The Witch's Doll ⚢

Chapter 18

A/N: This chapter was rewritten twice because I lost the file. Nothing major changed. Just the way it's phrased and worded. I prefer the first version, but oh well. *cries*

After she visited Detective Inspector's place, Isla returned home as soon as possible. Bored out of her mind for being able to study for her exams the previous days, Isla decided to head towards the family library.

The library was a long and dark immense room, and it was quiet as a graveyard. The ceiling must have been twenty feet high. The shelves went all the way up, and there was a little stairway of iron that curved to a second level, and a balcony where Isla could reach books on that level.

And on the lower level were two wooden ladders that slid along railings put there for that purpose. Isla could see the gaping spaces, like teeth, missing in the long rows of leather-bound, gold-tooled, hub bed-spined expensive books.

The smell of old books was apparent in the air and no matter how much they tried to preserve them, long shelf life has its inevitable end. Isla could remember as if it was fresh in her mind that her mother would buy her new editions of books and taught her how to take care and preserve it so that the future generations of the Cecil would be able to hold in their hands what their ancestors once held.

A desk was there, dark and massive, must have weighed a ton, and a tall leather swivel chair was behind it, and Isla could just picture her mother, and her grandmother and all the matriarchs before her sitting there—issuing orders right and left, and studying.

There was a dark mahogany filing system made to look like fine furniture. Two very long, soft, sofas were set out from the walls about three feet, giving people plenty of room to move behind them. Chairs were placed near the fireplace, and, of course, there was a batch of tables and chairs and things to stumble against, and an awful lot of bric-a-brac.

Among one of the secret doors from behind the bookshelves was a chamber of a secret hospital to help and cure people in need.

The night wore on. Isla returned to reading the medical books for leisure. Isla was now sitting on a cushioned armchair by the open window, reading when her phone rang.

"Hello Henri?" she answered, putting the phone near her ear. "Have you returned home?"

"I'm fine." He cautioned in a hurried tone. "I merely called to see if you feel alright."

"Why would I be not?" Isla noticed that he was fumbling on something and possibly running. "Where are you right now?"

Henri took a staggering amount of time before he even replied. "There are dark forces out there, Isla. Be careful."

"What on earth?" Isla's voice started rising from anger. She wanted him to start saying things without abstract thoughts, but her question was only replied to with laborious breathing before his phone went off.

Puzzled, she was left to wonder what that phone call could have meant.

* * *

"What's the meaning of this Evonnie?" Alessandra's body was tight as a coiled wire; ready to chant spells if this calm is just a trap.

"Eh? Don't ask me! I was just showing you what Ate Marie taught me! Calling someone on a phone picks up frequencies sometimes." The device slipped from her grasp and she had to catch it back with theatrics. "You mean this wasn't supposed to be here?"