Phantom Chained

Chapter 15. Working on trust(cont.) Ingrid.

Her lunar majesty returns,

trailing the familiar fears.

With enchanted loneliness,

lifts the hairs on your arms.

I place candles on the windowsill,

prodding into the mystic sea,

and like a submissive lover,

I let it into me.

Elm's romantic song

With Johan gone, the anxiety induced by this surreal situation grew tenfold. Out of the window, I saw how the wind rocked bushes while shadowy silhouettes twitched in a mesmerising dance. Through the blanket of clouds protruded a single ray of sunshine, nervously sliding across the room's bare walls.

A dim strip of light made its way through the space under the door, followed by a thin scent of vanilla. The loud knocking that followed made me violently shudder; It was a resonant thud, evidently done with a leg. I sprung from the bed and threw the door open.

Johan stumbled in, supporting with his chin a pyramid made from three plates being balanced on top of two clay mugs.

"Granny's fired up." Johan began while I helped him unload. "I barely escaped from her fried sausages. Mulled wine goes way better with cheese... Hey, don't put the plate on that table, you'll knock over the valuable ingredients! On the bed, everything goes on the bed! The windowsill works too, just anywhere but the table."

"This is mulled wine?" I asked distrustingly, carefully wrapping my fingers around the mug's handle. I took a whiff, inhaling the mixed aroma of alcohol and various spices. "Smells weird."

"There's no love spell, stop being so suspicious."

"Not like I need one in the first place," I silently mumbled and climbed back into my usual spot. "I tried to turn on the light but the switch doesn't work."

"It's been like that for ages." Johan took a big gulp from his mug while emptying yet another bag onto the table. "Something's up with the wiring. Hope you're not against using candles? Personally, I'm all for the romantic mood, we still have a couple of hours left."

To stop the incoming emotional breakdown I took a greedy sip of the mulled wine and nearly choked when the liquid blazed through my stomach and ricocheted into my brain, leaking from my nose and eyes.

"Did you add pure alcohol in there?" I rasped.

"Tequila. And a quality one, at that. What are you crying for, you should be thrilled!"

"I'll die!"

"Doubt it."

"You can't mix alcohol with sleeping pills!"

"You will only take them once we leave. Dad lent me his car, by the way. Two hours is plenty of time for the alcohol to get absorbed but still enough to increase the pills' potency. You'll be out like a light, I promise."

"Bloody mad scientist..." I grumbled and took another sip. This time it came through much more smoothly and the cheese biscuits definitely came in handy.

Meanwhile, Johan took out a few half-burned candles from one of the table drawers. He placed a few around the perimeter of the room, stuck one on the bed's headboard and propped the final one on the windowsill.