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Who's Raphael?
I reread the text a couple more times in the hopes that it triggers a memory. But I have no clue what the text is talking about. In the nightmare I'm stumbled upon to, a text like this sends shivers down my spine.
I type a message back - Why not? Who is this? - and click send. The screen flickers black and white, then turns its normal hue again.
Nothing happens.
The battery lowers to sixty-eight percent. Out of desperation, I call the police again.
One ring.
I press my phone against my ear, running the thin fabric of my robe through my fingers. The tiles beneath my feet reflect the flame of my candle.
Two rings.
This building has an elegant charm to it, etched into the crevices of the arches and woven into the fabrics of the carpets. Even though I had a class that studied architecture, none of the styles I've seen so far resembles anything in my textbooks.
Three rings.
I think I'm in a castle.
Four rings.
But how did I even get here? There are no castles from me I live.
Five rings.
Please pick up.
Six rings.
I hang up.
In a sudden bout of frustration, I kick a nearby stand, which holds a vase full of flowers, over to the floor. It topples over. The vase shatters into green shards, letting all the black water inside spray all over my robe. Cursing, I pull myself up and away from the broken glass.
Somebody behind me chuckles. Low and mocking.
I grab my candlestick and spin around. The flame's light is too dim for me to make out anything besides my own shadow. Nothing moves. Nothing makes a sound.
My hands are trembling.
Am I going crazy?
No way, it's too early for me to go crazy.
"I'm not in the mood to play to games," I call. "If you want to kill me, do it now."
Nobody answers.
Strangely disappointed, but also relieved, I drop my phone back into the pocket of my robe. The weight shifts the fabric down to my shoulders. I pull it up again, scanning the empty corridors and steps. The castle should't be completely empty, right?
Somebody brought me in here.
I need to get myself out.
I turn my head to monumental staircase, spiraling up into the darkness, each step so wide and long it could be its own hallway. Door lines the edges, colored blue and green, different shapes and sizes. Looking at them makes me dizzy.
Footsteps.
A floor above me, a door swings open and shuts again with a faint rattle. Whoever the person is, they're wearing heels that snap against the floor with every step.
The footsteps fade away.
I wait for a second, then creep towards the sound.
Golden light streams from the crack of a door, cracked open by an inch. There's writing on a silver plague on the door: DRESSING ROOM.
Walking away seems like torture. In here, ignorance isn't bliss. This monstrous castle is so hollow and dark that I'm starved for any sort of human contact, even if it is somebody dangerous.
There's a ripped piece of yellowed parchment taped to the plaque.
The makeup is mine.Please, don't use it.
xoxo Princess Tami
Princess Tami? I've never heard of that name.
But if she's a princess, then she has to be a part of this castle - which, probably, is a bad thing. I run my finger over the Xs and Os, wondering what kind of kidnapper would sign their notes like this.
Then, I swing the door open.
A sea of expensive perfume and white powder wash over me. I cough into the sleeve of my flimsy robe before stepping onto the plush tan carpet.
Mirrors line both walls, so clear and shiny that they double the golden light in the room by their reflections. On top of the minty green counters, have every form and shade of makeup possible glistens.
The room radiates a sweet warmth. There's no threat to me so far, so I sink into one of the cushioned seats and wait for my toes to thaw.
Eventually, my blood begins to circulate properly. My fingers turn from a cracked white to a healthy tan again. I run my tongue over my lips, blistered and dry.
One shade of the lipsticks catches my eye. Bloody Rose.
It's already open. By the smeared top, somebody seems to have used it recently. I think of the sign outside, warning people not to use the makeup. Did somebody not follow the instructions? Or was this done by Princess Tami? I pick up the tube of lipstick, inspecting it.
The color is alarmingly red, drawing your attention automatically, like the blaring siren on a firetruck as it storms by.
A voice from behind me shatters my trance.
"Don't you know how to read?"
Wincing, I turn around.
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Things You Learned This Chapter
1) Princess Tami does not like people using her makeup.
2) There's a giant spiral staircase in the middle of the castle.
