(18+) Someone in the dark

Ch. 22: Strangled

"Michael..."

I stumbled across the hall and sunk down on the floor outside his room. I could hardly lift my hand up to knock on the door, and it sounded like a weak thud instead of actual knocking.

"Michael? Are you there? I know what it means now," I said, but I couldn't hear anything other than whispering. Did something happen to him? "Hello?"

I tried to speak as loud as I could, but my voice wouldn't bear. It was hoarse and raw, as if I had a severe cold. But I wasn't sick. I was dying.

"Michael? Please answer me. I really need to hear your voice," I mumbled, and my eyes burned with unshed tears as I leaned against his door. I knocked again, but even though I tried really hard to listen, the people calling my name made it hard to hear anything else. "I know what it means."

"Arielle? I can hear you. Are you alright?"

His soft voice broke through the whispers in my head, and a faint warmth hugged my heart. But I needed more.

"No, I'm not. It's time. It's over. I can hear it."

"No! Don't give up, Arielle! I'm here for you, but... I don't know what they've done, but I can't get out. I'm trapped."

"I know what it means," I repeated as if I was a broken vinyl.

"What do you mean?"

"Abandon the colors. It means I should stay away from the shed. But it's calling for me. I should have stayed gray. I know that now. They warned me. I shouldn't have fought it. I should have minded my own business. But now I'm too gray. I can't give anything more, and the house does everything to force me out."

"No! Don't listen to them!" he protested, and he sounded so lost and desperate that my heart ached for him.

"But the colors from the shed are so beautiful, and I need to get away from the crushing power in this house. I'm dead either way."

Every cell in my body wanted to go there. Get my relief. Walk into the colors and let them engulf me.

"Abandon the colors."

I wanted to go there, anyway. How could I not? The pull was too strong.

"Stay away from the light."

"I can't resist it anymore. I want to do both. The light and the colors..." I said, but the words slipped away.

"Arielle! Don't! Whatever you do, do not go in there! Do you hear me? You'll be..."

"... dead?" I chuckled, but there was no fun in it. "I already am dead, Michael. I can't breathe."

"Don't give up! I need you," he said, and his voice sounded groggy. Was he crying?

"I need you, too. But it's too late."

"No, it isn't!" he yelled angrily, and I knew the anger was directed at the house. "Listen to me, Arielle! It's not too late! We can..."

"But I can't stay in the house anymore!" I exclaimed and a sore sob slipped out, but still no tears. They had probably dried out like the blood in my necrotic veins. But right now, black blood vessels were the last thing on my mind. The only thing I could think of was what I shouldn't do. I already envisioned how it would feel to enter it. The shed. My destiny.

"Arielle! Are you there?" Michael yelled, and he was pounding so hard on the door that it was a wonder he didn't tear the whole thing down. Unfortunately, it was solid oak, and the house had most likely stolen his supernatural powers since he couldn't walk right through it.

"I have to go. They need me. I can hear them calling for me," I said, but it sounded like a muffled sigh.

"No! Listen to me! Are you there?"

I heard him curse before he attacked the door again, to no avail. He ended it with a loud hit that either was his fist or his foot. It still didn't budge.

"FUCK! Arielle!"

"I'm still here," I said eventually.

"Remember the note? You wrote it only a couple of hours ago, or maybe even less. Remember what it said? You wrote about love. Do you really love me?"

"Yes," I said, and there was no hesitation despite being drained of energy.

"And I love you, too! So please don't go in there. Please don't leave me."

Another sob shook my body, a desperate cry from a hollow soul. The house did everything to keep us apart. It had done that ever since I started working here, and now that we'd developed feelings for each other, it was in a hurry to split us up for good. And the way my heart beat stronger, and my mouth tried to smile because of him, told me that these feelings were strong. But were they strong enough to defeat it? And if so, then how?

"I'm tired, Michael. So tired. But I love you more than I've loved anyone before."

The second I said that, we heard a terrible scream that stabbed our eardrums. Then a roar from what sounded like a hundred ferocious lions, before all the lights in the entire house turned on simultaneously. But they didn't only turn on. They were three times as strong as usual, the exact opposite of an electrical short circuit right before it shuts down completely. And all of them pulsated like a giant heart. A black heart from the beast itself: the house. The Silver Fox Mansion. And the light kept getting stronger and more intense, causing the lightbulbs to shatter one by one, sending billions of pieces of glass all over.

"I NEED TO GO! I NEED TO LEAVE TO SAVE YOU, MICHAEL! JUST REMEMBER THAT I WILL ALWAYS..." I shouted, but I choked because I couldn't breathe. It strangled me, even though I couldn't see anyone doing it. So the rest of the sentence became a grunt. "... always love you."

I heard him say something back, but I was already on my way down, half crawling, half sliding, until I was lying face down with my limbs sprawled around me on the floor at the bottom of the stairs. It took every ounce of willpower to get up on legs that were trembling with fatigue, and I had to walk along the walls and hold on to everything I could reach to keep from falling. I didn't even flinch when I walked past by the REDRUM and saw Samuel's portrait outside the door.

I'd never seen eyes as pained as his. They were bleeding while the flesh melted from his face, and I could see the facial muscles and parts of his skull behind it. His mouth was wide open, like someone had cut through the canvas and slowly tore it apart. He was burning, but without flames, and right in front of the macabre sight was a red handkerchief. Carl. And next to it was a small frame. I didn't even need to look at it to know who it was. It was Leo. Picture number fifty-eight on the sideboard.

And I was going to be number fifty-nine.

I felt dizzy from the lack of oxygen, and it seemed like my nervous system was pumping acid instead of electrical impulses. It became harder and harder to make my body listen to my brain and I crashed into the mirror on my way to the kitchen. My reflection was gone. Even when I dragged my finger across it, I could only see a vague trail in the dust. But no finger, no hand, and no arm. I didn't exist anymore.

I had never spent more time walking from the hall, through the kitchen, and out into the backyard. The night was cool, but I didn't feel it. The air was fresh, but I couldn't breathe it. The only thing in my mind was to leave the blinding light of the house. I didn't even know where the light came from, because there wasn't a single working lightbulb left. But knew I would find safety in the shed. The colors would take me to a better place, and I had nothing to fear. I had nothing more to live for, anyway.

The key was glowing more intensely than ever and with more colors than what was visible to the human eye. The voices from the shed had turned into repetitious chanting, similar to the roar in a stadium when someone scores the final goal.

"Follow us, Arielle. You're next in the line. Follow us. You're next in the line."

And I was ready.