The Unexpected

Chapter 6- The Room

"Michelle dear. I hope you will find my house acceptable for your needs. If you need the temperature changed, I think you can do that yourself."

He smiled menacingly, not unlike those clown mannequins in horror films. How did he know me? I couldn't remember him no matter how hard I tried. He clearly knew me. Everybody did. But I didn't know anyone. Ugh. I pinched myself to make sure I wasn't dreaming. I don't know why people do that. It won't make you pinch yourself in real life. If your greatest fears are happening all around you, pinching will be the least of your worries. He walked out of the room. I smiled as I heard heels click clacking down the hall. Wow...a powerful man orchestrates a kidnapping across the country all while wearing heels. The lady watching me turned to face me the fear still plastered on her face. I decided to speak to her.

"Excuse me. May I please sit up?"

Her eyes widened and she looked as if she would rather be digging her own grave. She quickly shook her head. She looked strangely like a spinning top I used to play with as a kid. Then it hit me, if that man thought I was powerful, she must think so too. I decided to use that to my advantage. I didn't know what was holding me down but I decided that she would let me go no matter what. I took out my mom voice.

"If you don't let me up I'll use my magical abilities to make sure you never stand up again."

She let out a horrified gasp quickly followed by a deathly scream. I wasn't sure why. Then I saw blood slowly making it's way down her pale white leg. I didn't look at her as she left the room. The scream stopped a couple of minutes after she left. A breeze filled the room even though there were no windows, but I didn't care because my legs were free. Quickly, I got up, ready to run and get out of this horrid place. I got to the door and something forced me back. I hit my head on the opposite wall. I touched it gingerly and the man came back into the room.

"My staff are reporting harassment by the guests. I hate when the guests give bad reviews but it is even worse when my staff have bad reviews of the guests."

There was that smile again. The malicious smile that would send Lord Voldemort shaking in his boots. Or maybe his trainers? Who knows? He came into the room carefully exaggerating each step, looking at the threshold. This whole situation is too weird. He came up to me but there was nowhere for me to go. He kneeled down in front of me and lowered his voice to a whisper.

"I need you to do something for me."

I lowered my voice to mock his whisper. "Too bad." I formed my hand into a fist and swung as hard as I could, my hard fist making impact with his chiseled jaw. He turned his head when my fist connected with his million dollar face, but it seemed to hurt me then it hurt him. My knuckles started to bleed but he hadn't even flinched. I shook my hand out while I shouted in pain. I used some words that my mother would not approve of. I expected it this time, that smile that made me cringe.

"I don't appreciate getting hit by my guest, especially when I have treated them so kindly. "

"Whatever. We must have different definitions of kindly. Can I ask some questions now?"

"No, but you can come with me."

"I don't really have a choice do I?"

"Nope." There it is that smile again, but less menacing. I decided to go with him. I stood. "Great choice. Let's be on our way."

Reluctantly I followed him out the door, quite curious where we were going. We walked through endless hallways all painted the same color. He seemed quite into art. Every hallway was a pale yellow the floors lined with a cold hard tile a few shades lighter than the walls. My feet were not cold despite the chill I felt in my bones. His black dress shoes click-clacked all the way down the hall. Pieces of art lined the hallway a new picture every couple of feet. They looked like they cost millions. They all looked original, how he had gotten them all was beyond me. We walked down the endless yellow hallway when finally there were some doors. Just plain wooden doors but it showed that there was something different than just a long yellow hallway. The click clacking of his shoes stopped and I quickly glanced at him. He had paused in front of one of the doors. Slowly, he pulled out a keychain that had many keys. The hallway was now silent besides the slight clamor of his keys

But I heard something else, a low deep sob. A sob that was produced only by someone in pain. Not physical pain, but pain of loss. I didn't dare ask him what it was. It was so faint that I might have been hearing things. After all, I had hit my head. "Can I sit down," I asked. "It feels like we have been walking for hours."

"Sure," he replied, without looking up.

Weird, I thought, no creepy smile. I sat down opposite to the door he was working on. That's when I heard the sobbing again. But this time it was different. It was lighter and the longer I listened the more It became less of a sob and more of a scream. This man must have heard it too. He paused in his search for his key. What was his name again? Oh Ya.. It was Jason. Like the killer. That's great. He went back to the search but a little more feverishly. He soon found the right one and unlocked the door. I gasped it was full of sharp colors and bold brush marks. The room was bursting with bright reds, pumpkins oranges, sunny yellows, meadow greens, sky blues, and purples that looked fit for a king. He had mixed them and spun them together with the purest of whites and the most sinful of black to create a beautiful collage of colored and emotions. The blacks twisting with reds and the blues spiraled with yellow. I was reminded of the walk I had started to take this morning. But how long had it actually been? A week, a month a year. I didn't have time to wonder. I brought my eyes back to the room. The floor inside the room was different than the hallway. It was smooth and white the same as the walls had once been. When he opened the door, he took the liberty of choosing some words that my mother expelled from our house a long time ago. I believe he said them in response to the scream that was issued from the room across or perhaps below where we were standing. He started into the room and turned on his heel and beckoned me in. I jumped up and followed him. He opened a door on the other side of the room that I hadn't seen before. I followed him in barely making it. My arm hit the door frame and started to bleed. I grasped it tightly and winced. But he was far ahead so I couldn't fuss over it now. I caught up to him, panting.

"Where are we going," I asked.

"Don't ask questions," he replied, flustered.

I grabbed his arm. "If I'm going to run all over God's great creation, I deserve to know why."

He screamed out in pain. When I looked down his arm was on fire. I yanked my hand off his arm. The fire automatically stopped but my hand print was burned onto his arm. He looked at me and for the first time I saw fear etched into the creases around his eyes. He paused in his pursuit to stare at me and his arm.

"Don't we have somewhere to go?" I asked, trying to mask my fear of the power I had so recently discovered.

"Yes. yes." He stuttered very flustered. He cleared his thought. "Yes," he said more strongly. He turned around to go but his gait was different. I followed him when pain shot through my arm. I had to keep going. I didn't want him to be suspicious. He stopped abruptly and I almost tripped over him. In front Jason were a set of steep dark stairs I hadn't noticed before.

"Be very quiet" was all he told me.

Slowly and steadily we made our way down the stairs. It was very wet. At the end of the damp hallway, there was a door that has been rusted from many years of the dank wet atmosphere. It looked much older than house by maybe even hundreds of years. There wasn't anything at the end of the stairs and I was very suspicious of why we are down there when suddenly I heard the same scream I had heard upstairs.

"What is that?" I asked.

"A guest," he replied.

He took great care in opening the big metal door and it squeaked as he slowly pulled it open. I was very surprised when sunlight filled the entire space but horror grasped my heart when I saw my captors sitting in the middle of the room, practically on fire. Their eyes were closed and it looked as if they have been sitting in the sun for many days and were sunburned beyond repair. As soon as I walked in the room, they twisted their heads toward me screaming in pain.

"When are you going to feed us," they cried "There's blood on her arm give it to us. Let us feed on her," they said in unison.

"What are they talking about," I screamed in fear. "Why would they want my blood?"

Jason closed ceiling and we were plunged into darkness. It took him a while to answer. I huffed in anger and frustration. I was scared and confused and so over the secrecy. He sighed and started to tell the story of the man.