My Little Araignée

Ch 7 *unsettling eyes*

so im not completly sure about this song but i just love it with its halloween vibes.

🎧 haunted house - neoni 🎧

                                                                                   Enjoy

   Wandering around the place is both unsettling and strangely captivating. It's been a while since I woke up, and the eerie silence is starting to creep me out. This castle feels haunted, and I can't shake the feeling that I'm being watched.

The weirdest part of today is that I haven't seen him. Well, at least not since last night. Booth has been my only company, and I'm beginning to feel like a ghost in this empty, foreboding space.

"So... is it always this lonely around here?" I ask Booth, who looks at me with those innocent, puppy-like eyes. Who would've thought the most terrifying creature could also be such a sweetie?

I'm still shaken from last night's events, but something doesn't sit right with me. As I continue my solitary exploration, flashes of last night invade my mind—memories laced with confusion and fear.

Roaming through the long, dimly lit halls, I come across a striking door. Its surface is a delicate cerulean, almost ethereal, with golden doorknobs that shimmer like stars against the night sky. Intricate symbols, etched in gold, weave a mysterious tapestry around the door, their meanings lost to me. I feel drawn to it, an inexplicable urge to uncover what lies beyond, but unfortunately, it's locked tight—not just with a key but sealed with some kind of magic. My curiosity is piqued, but before I can linger, an open doorway down the hall catches my eye.

When I approach, Booth steps in front of me, blocking my way. "Oh, come on, buddy, just a tiny peek!" I plead, but he doesn't budge. I need a distraction, so I resort to a classic dog trick. "Oh, Booth, look what I've got for you!" I say, feigning excitement even though I hold nothing in my hands.

"FETCH!" I shout, and his head snaps toward the imaginary ball. 

As he dashes after the nonexistent prize, I seize the moment to slip past him into the room, quickly shutting the door behind me. "Sorry, buddy," I whisper, my heart racing.

Inside, I find what appears to be a bedroom. It's simple—just a bed, two nightstands, a closet, and a large study table. But there it is: a journal lying open on the table, beckoning me with its secrets.

As I flip through the pages, I'm met with disturbing sketches and jumbled words. The writing shifts between German and English, interspersed with languages I can't decipher. Each entry carries a weight of anguish, and the varied handwriting suggests that many different people have contributed to it, yet they all share the same sense of despair.

One drawing, in particular, grips me—a pair of haunting eyes that mirror my own. I try to shake off the unsettling feeling and continue flipping through the pages, but my mind races with the realization that I've stumbled onto something deeply personal and horrifying.

Suddenly, I hear footsteps in the hallway. Panic grips me. I duck under the bed, my heart pounding in my chest.

The door creaks open, and there he is—Alex. He steps into the room, his expression a tumultuous mix of turmoil and resolve. My breath catches in my throat as I listen intently, my heart racing with fear and curiosity.

"What am I doing?" he murmurs to himself, pacing the room. "I can't keep doing this. Not with her... not after last night." He runs a hand through his hair, his gaze darting around as if searching for answers in the shadows. "But she is just exactly like her..."