The Knight of Slaughtaverty

Chapter 27 - Blurred Reality

I watch in stunned silence as Ransford turns to gaze forlornly in the direction the woman vanished. He reaches out for her with one hand and stares in despair as his fingers touch nothing but empty air.

Blinding tears make me realise that I am crying, and I brush at them, frustration and heartache crashing over me with crushing weight. When I'm finally able to see again, Ransford is no longer standing in the hallway.

I knew he was gone the moment the weight lifted, and the pain left me, and I was able to breathe again. Turning away from the junction where I'd just witnessed something the logical part of my brain has no idea how to process and is fiercely trying to reject, I run. Sightlessly, not caring where I'm going, I turn corner after corner.

I should be happy; I'm finally getting that run I was craving earlier, and my lungs are even starting to burn with the effort, but it is not fun. The burn is caused by lingering heartache that isn't even mine to bear.

I need to get out of this cursed mansion. I need the cool light of day on my skin. I need to feel the breeze in my hair. I long for the rain to come streaming down again and wash away all the gossamer memories clouding my mind. I no longer know what I feel, what I think, or what I remember. I'm tangled in the sorrow of others, and I cannot carry that burden anymore.

And now... ghosts?!

I couldn't have seen what I think I just saw. There is no scientific explanation for it. I don't normally care about science much, but I do now. I care very much. I need someone, anybody, to make sense of it for me.

I've seen that woman once before. I followed her down a corridor and saw her climb a spiral staircase into darkness. I know it was her though she'd been too far away and the dusk too heavy to see her clearly that day.

How could a woman that vivid, with a fragrance that tangible, soundlessly walk right through Ransford and disappear?

"She couldn't have," I whimper, stopping to catch my breath. My legs are trembling too much to hold me, and I sink to the carpet, pressing my back into the wall, seeking comfort from the wood panelling and finding none. I've lost my way now; I no longer see the passages clearly and might've been running in circles.

I don't sense Ransford anymore, and Alaric's presence has left me as well. I don't feel anybody. I am utterly alone now.

I saw a ghost!

Diarmuid said the mansion was haunted, but I thought he was talking rubbish. What else did he say that sounded like nonsense but might've been true? The woman couldn't have been real. She left the hallway in darkness; the light bulbs all died as she passed them. That is not possible!

I saw a ghost!

"No! I don't believe in ghosts!"

I need to get out of this dark, sinister prison I've lost myself in, but I'm shaking so much that I cannot even get to my feet. I force myself onto my knees and crawl to a sturdy-looking marble statue of a water nymph wrapped in the embrace of a curvy wave. Its beauty, period and artist - details that normally matter to me - are lost on me as I grab onto it and struggle to pull myself up.

I'm almost on my feet when I lose the feeling in my hands and legs, falling back to the floor with no way to soften the impact, and my head smacks the carpet-covered wooden floor. Lying stunned on my back, I'm unable to resist when I'm dragged into the unwelcome depths of a nightmare.

The world around me is wrapped in impenetrable night, and all I can see is ochre eyes piercing mine while stained lips mutter words I cannot understand. I try in vain to suck air into my terrified lungs when I recognize Alazne and feel her long, talon-like nails run wetly along my cheekbone, sending sparkling fear in a river down my back.