twisted killings

.:TRICKSTER:.

I am holding onto something that I want to get rid of. Quite literally. Who would have thought that Landon detests the smell of puke? Apparently, I am not smart enough to have thought twice about that. She told me that if I didn't clean up the contents of my stomach, she would start killing everybody. She had left me no choice, but to scoop it up with both my hands and dump it into a flower pot.

Which led me to another ugly predicament; something that, I swear, I don't go looking for. I am standing at the end of a hallway; puke dripping off my hands onto the pristine red carpet, Landon gleefully whistling as she drew nearer and nearer, and only one door in front of me. Any person would say that I am insane— "just go through the stupid door! She will just think that she took a wrong turn following you". Point number one: I have puke on my hands. If I touch the knob, there will be wetness on the sleek silver. This house may be crazy insane, but I don't know about puke-on-the-handle insane.

Point number two: what is behind the door? In a normal house, I would just go in, but here? The hell hounds could be back there....or who knows what other animal. Lions, bears, tigers. What's that saying again? Lions, tigers and bears; oh my! Or worse: it might be a room of spiders. That thought sends shivers down my back. I weigh my options. Stay in the hall and pray not to be hell's next meal, or go into the mysterious room and deal with spiders. Maybe there is another option.

Say and fight this psycho off. Okay, bad idea. Who knows, if the situation changed, I may have stayed there. But I go through the door and slam it behind me. I don't even check for spiders, although I want to. I push my back against the door, sliding down and curling up like a toddler. I close my eyes as I hear footsteps coming towards me— "Celeste, tut tut, you should know better than this. I thought I taught you well enough".

Celeste. I forgot that is my name. This is the first time in what felt like days that I have heard it been said. I find it ironic that my name means light, but this whole house is boarded up. No light. No sign of the world. No way out. There had to be a way out; there had to be at least secret passages. I mean, how else could she be getting around so fast? Magic? Okay, it was definitely magic. Or maybe she was just a dog. High frequency hearing.

She started humming as she tapped slowly against the wood. Each time, the hairs on the back of my neck stood even straighter. If she had magic, something I didn't believe existed until this moment, couldn't she just move me outside the door, or pick the lock, or hell, even transport? That logic was enough for me to make my final decision; she has no magical powers.

The house, from what little parts I have seen, is from a time where the rich had servants. In history class, we learn that for a time servants were suppose to work behind the scenes thus the creation of thick walls and doors that blend in. Landon is no historian, which makes sense because instead of going on killing sprees, she would have to pick up a book.

I dared to move, feeling along the walls. "Celeste, I hear you moving—", high frequency hearing, I tell you, "—do I need to break down this door?" Her voice melted into one of a mother, I sped up. I finally found it as there was a loud bang from the other side of the door. "Boy, am I going to have fun killing you."

"See you, Landon." My fingers pried the hidden door out of its place resting in the wall. I ducked inside, gently closing it as to make no sound. The minute the door sealed, I was plunged into a dark abyss that seemed miles away from the surface of the Earth. It was times like this I was grateful for having a cellphone, even if there was no wifi or service to be found. Even with the flashlight shining on the ground, I couldn't see more than five inches in front of my feet.

There was a draft from the other end of the narrow hallway. Taking baby steps, I neared the source of the breeze. Maybe it was a way out. I could only mutter prayers that it was. I felt a dip in the wooden boards I was stepping on; a curve in the wall. The floor became a ramp which kept going, however, there was a three foot shaft where my hand had previously rested. Hoping to find some way out, or a safer place to hide, my butt chafed against my jeans as I slid. At the end, was something that I prefer to never see again. 

not as long as i had hoped, but i thought i would give you guys a cliffhanger. sorry for the wait :)