The Missing Linck

• SEVEN •

"Right there. Yeah, that's perfect. Move on to the seats," I order the guys I've hired to set the house just right, earning many a scowl from them.

It's the very first party I've planned since moving to Crole, and I'm quite excited. Reid's mom, who insists I call her Nat, has asked me to plan a get-together right in their house.

I shooed Reid, Quen, Nat and Alex (their dad) out of the house while I get the arrangements done in the house. They offered to help, but I'd already gotten people to help, and, besides, I want to retain the element of surprise for when they see it for the first time. Plus, it allows me to explore their house.

Eh, it's rude, but I don't care. What they don't know won't kill them...

After ensuring they've all left and locking them outside, I give the guys some work to do and look around the house. The kitchen and various drawing rooms and studies are nothing out of the ordinary if you ignore the fact that they're all so expensively renovated and all the pieces of furniture are lush. The carpets are so thick that my soles feel like they're on flower petals!

All in all, it's quite expensive, and, as much as I've observed them, they are too, but aren't snobby. I shouldn't expect them to; not all rich people are snobby and haughty...

Anyways, I'm in a bedroom that seems to be Quen's by the look of it and I'm instantly drawn to the several dozens of books lining the aesthetically pleasing bookshelf on the wall. The bookshelf doesn't have the normal clean-cut ninety degree compartments in line with the ground and the wall, but instead have the same ninety-degree compartments slanted at forty-five to the ground.

Another slanting bookstand stands by the window, magazines occupying the racks. I randomly look through the titles and find that Quen has quite a diverse range of books here. One day, I'm gonna ask if she can loan me some, or, if she doesn't approve of the books leaving her house, sit here and read. Then maybe I could-

My train of thought is interrupted by the door banging shut. What? I wasn't anywhere near the door and- what if it was a gust of wind from the window- the window's closed shut.

Hmm, maybe it's one of the guys who's trying to toy with me. Well, I'm not scared. I'll just stay here until they let me out, which they'll have to sometime or the other. I walk to the door and twist the door knob.

So they even went to the trouble of locking it? Either that or they're standing on the other side and holding the door knob tight.

I drop down and peek out from the small space under the door. There's no one outside, not even a bit of maybe a shoe or something peeping out. But if they locked the door, I would've heard a click.

I stand up and try the door knob again, but it's useless. Maybe it jammed? I remember the instructions Dad had taught me about how to open a jammed lock, and I follow through, but it still doesn't open. So it's definitely locked.

My breathing quickens and I can feel my heart beating fast. Okay, calm down, Tasha. Don't panic. Take a deep breath.

Nothing makes a hitch though. Even though I know it's useless, I try the door knob again. No point. I peek out again and still can't see anyone.

I put my hand in my pockets and realize I left my phone downstairs. Great. I contemplate pounding on the door loudly and demanding I be let out. Yeah, like that'll work.

I'm about to do that anyway when I hear a voice. An unfamiliar cold voice devoid of any warmth and brimming with cruel joy. One that chills me to my bone and gives me goosebumps.

"Welcome to the beginning of your end."

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That was one of the fastest chapters I've written!

As usual, let me know what you thought. What do you think this party is going to end in?? Any theories as to what the voice means, and (maybe) to whom it belongs.

Oh, and the bookshelves described (one in the picture above) are ones that I've seen in houses I've visited, and are the kind I would love to have!

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