In Dire Need of Cessation

Three

Previously: 

Scrape...

Something sounded from the room beside me, where the kitchen and interlude room for the staff was.

I paused my music instantly, stopping the tune of Sia.

Silence fell upon the house, putting a choking hold around my neck. I felt the heaviness of whatever strong emotion dawn.

•  •  •

Bump-bump-bump.

It was a familiar sound of wood clattering on the floor with haste. I rotated to the door and stalked towards the next room.

I must have paled more so than I had ever done as my concerns devoured my mind, picking at it with sharp teeth...how ironic. I couldn't hear anything unnatural throughout the house afterward but my light taps of footsteps.

For a fraction of a second, I prepared myself for a problematic incident, it might have been petty or an action of pusillanimity, but being alone in a basement with possibly a supernatural being was rather unnerving.

I stepped forward purposely, squaring my shoulders and raising my head. I couldn't display any indications of a weakness, which was fear. It was a strong emotion with an iron grip, especially with my heightened emotions and senses. Instead of a sharp stab and twist of a knife type of fear, that was common with humans more so than vampires, I had the type of fear that would glissade into my cold thoughts and latch, with only the ambition to make me think and rethink every decision before I was to commit the action.

Was it really wise to go out there?

I didn't exactly know what I was facing. It could, for all I knew, be able to hurt me. Kill me. I hadn't ever thought about the possibility of ghosts. Was that really what it was? It couldn't be the wind. I would've heard it. It wasn't rats. It wasn't piping.

What other excuse was there?

On the other hand, I realized that the fear in my possession was just an illusion. It was a physiological warning departed from the brain. It wouldn't have to be a big scene when I was to step inside the interval room. I would simply glance and, if danger, run. Nobody, not even my family, could out run me. It was simply impossible and not a discussion up for debate.

If Emmett was here, he would have stormed into the room, demolishing the wall on the trek, and growling to whatever was out there. Showing where the power was laid.

I reached the doorframe.

Just one look.

Then run.

I stepped out.

With excessive speed, my eyes viewed every piece of furniture in the room. The fireplace, plates, saucepans, broom, spinning wheel, bowls, cauldron, candles, table, chairs...two chairs were moved. The dark room, shown in a new light for me, showcased the culprits.

One chair had fallen back, farther than what it would have been if someone had caught their foot around it accidently. No, something had thrown this chair back towards the farthest door, hitting the wall presumably, before clattering to the floor by the weak force of gravity. The other chair was...different.

Scarier.

Worrying.

It had been graciously pulled out about three feet away from its original place. It was as if someone was going to sit down on it.

Or was sitting in it.

I felt a strange impulse to say the iconic 'hello' directed at the chair as if this was a conference meeting. Throughout all of this, with the crawling blue darkness and dimmed furniture, setting a scene for this to play, I found myself with the inner suggestion that I had just entered the house of the 'devil'. The devil's lair.