Entangled | Zayn Malik

Chapter Twenty-Six

We walk very slowly up the hallway - any slower and we'd be walking backwards. None of us saying a word because it's far too quiet and the sound of our voices would surely be too harsh against the silence. We communicate with our eyes and I know the both of us are thinking the same thing. Get the fuck out of here and don't come back. But neither of us seem to make any attempt to leave, instead we continue up the hall.

The flames from the candles flicker with every step we take, as if some kind of morse code warning us not to go any further. The overwhelming sense of uneasiness courses through my blood and settles deep in my bones. We stand in front of the first door and Zayn reaches for the door handle. The nerves in my stomach reach an all time peak as he twists the handle to the side. He tries to push the door forward but it doesn't budge.

"Locked." He mouths, and I furrow my eyebrows at him. Of all the rooms we've come across in this place, every single one of them have been unlocked.

We move on to the next door and it's the exact same. We get about halfway up the hallway and one finally budges. We hold our breath as we open the door and walk through.

The room is large and dimly lit - a dull lamp in the corner being the only light in the room. The windows are boarded up and not an ounce of sunlight from outside peeks through.

A wooden four poster bed is placed in the middle of the room. A wardrobe and chest of drawers sits across from the bed and a suitcase lays on the floor in front of it.

"Whose room is this?" I whisper.

"I have no idea." Zayn whispers back.

"Your uncle?"

"He's out of town." He says.

"He's supposed to be out of town." He adds.

"Is that his stuff in the suitcase?" I whisper.

He kneels down beside the case and has a look inside.

"There's men and women's clothes in here." He tells me.

"What the fuck?"

I spot the en-suite so I slowly open the door and walk in to have a look around. The interior is much the same as the rest of the bathrooms in the house. I step towards the sink and take a look in the mirror above it. I take a deep breath and just stand there for a few moments, taking in my reflection. Beside the sink I spot men's aftershave, woman's perfume and a lipstick.

"Zayn?" I whisper.

"Yeah?" He says, walking into the bathroom.

"Does your uncle wear this aftershave?" I ask, lifting the bottle so he can smell it.

"No, I don't think so. Not that I've noticed." He says, sitting the bottle back down on the sink.

"Someone's definitely staying in here. Or has stayed here recently. The bed has been slept in." Zayn says.

"I never heard anyone come in." I say.

"Neither did I."

Suddenly it dawns on me.

"The water bottle."

"What?" Zayn asks, confused.

"Last night when we were clearing the drinks away, there was an empty water bottle on the counter. I couldn't recall if it had been there before but now I remember it wasn't."

"It wasn't yours was it?" I ask.

"No, I didn't go into the kitchen all night." He says.

"So someone was in there?" I ask, a chill running up my spine at the mere thought of someone being in the house while we were asleep.