Bereft: Demise

5 | Of Hills and Those Beneath Them

When no one answered my knocking, I laid my hand upon the intricate metal filigree of the handle and gave it a twist. It turned without protest, opening with a slight push. Unsure of what else to do, I stepped inside.

The door swung inward onto a narrow entryway with just enough space for a bench and a haphazard stack of muddied galoshes. The sound of the door closing was loud in the quiet that greeted my ears. I stared at the shoes, counting upwards of ten differently sized pairs. Someone had left their rain-spotted coat on the wooden bench.

"Hello?" I called as I passed through an archway. The floor changed from roughhewn stone to knotted hardwood done in a herringbone pattern. I stood in a foyer with numerous archways and doors branching from the hexagonal perimeter. A sizeable wooden staircase rose to a high mezzanine overlooking the foyer. The curved walls of the outer mezzanine were traced by a second, set of spiral stairs ascending upward to the far-off ceiling.

The sense of spatial of distortion gave me vertigo. The interior of the building didn't match the exterior, not in style or in shape. I had expected a mass of disjointed, woebegone rooms connected by a series of stubby halls. What I found was something much different.

The décor wouldn't have been out of place in an old English hunting lodge, what with the wood paneling, stone accents, and bone-white antlers hung above every lintel, but there were touches of other elements as well. The chandelier laden with teardrop crystals and amber wall sconces added aristocratic flair. Frames cluttered the available wall space, each showcasing a painting of a different scene. Some were lovely. Others...not so much.

Unnerved by a Gothic portrait of a man without a face, I clutched the bag to my middle and lowered my gaze from the walls.

It was quiet, but not silent. The house thrummed with an imminent energy, like a breath just waiting to be let go.

"Hello?" I said again, feeling foolish. "Is anyone, ah, here?"

Naturally, there wasn't a response. The rain dripping from my loose hair pattered on the wood floor. I would have felt guilty about the mess I was making if I hadn't been so exhausted and irritable.

If I was a Sin living in the middle of a marsh, this is definitely the type of place I'd stay, I mused. I eyed the stairs, then the collection of doors and arches. The doors were all comprised of the same heavy wood, but each was stained differently and had a different number of panels upon its face. One of the shadowy arches was covered by a curtain of roughly cut crystals and beads.

Muttering under my breath about frustrating demons, I set the bag on the floor and began to rub my weary face. A low growl sent a thrill like thrown ice water through my heart.

Two glimmering eyes had appeared in the shadow of an opened door. The eyes watched me with unwavering focus as the growl grew in intensity, shivering through the floorboards until I could feel it in my knees. Paws thumped as a wolf as large as a man inched forward from the darkness. Its furry lips were parted to reveal white teeth.

I didn't move. I held my breath as the beast stalked nearer.

It was because I was so utterly still that I felt the sudden, curious motion of a shadow spilling through my thoughts. I could not rightly describe the sensation, having never experienced anything similar before its first occurrence. I had become aware of its existence several weeks ago, not long after the Sin of Pride had saved my life. I wasn't an idiot. I knew the intangible darkness had something to do with Darius, but how could I ask him about something I couldn't even put a word to?

All I knew was that there was a shadow living beneath my thoughts, and when I was afraid or when I was angry, it slid over my mind in a nacreous, transparent veil of living darkness.