Soul Lines (Completed)

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Three
Elle POV

The old mansion would have once been the envy of the town, once upon a time. But now, the coloured tiles had cracked, and dirt filled the gaps. The paint of the walls had braved the time and weather poorly. It was faded, chipped and torn. Broken lights hung from the ceiling – grand old candle chandeliers that rattled in the air flowing through the broken windows.

The house's occupants hadn't survived long enough to see electricity popularised, so the light from outside had to fight against the moth-torn curtains and the crumbling cardboard that boarded the windows. It wasn't enough, and dark shadows blanketed the house.

The house had heavy influences from the Georgian and Victorian eras, but there was a deep saturation of old Greek design. Corinthian columns, each topped with intricate marble pediments and several large frescos that had turned motley with age, were peeling from the walls as the old paint bubbled beneath them. Four tall vases which matched the frescos framed the walkways with mocking status, with historic Greek depictions painted upon them in golden hues.

The floorboards creaked, and the balusters of the second storey were unsteady, rickety, and at times decay had rotted away at the railings.

My heart jumped as the thought of falling over the railings sprung to the forefront of my mind.

I tightened my grip on the wooden frame and felt the rough edge leave splinters in my palm. The house's past haunted the air, and it was stifling, hanging heavy around us like toxic smog as we stole through the faded memories. Anne Clarke had been crushed to death, not twenty steps away from where we had climbed the stairs, and we had stepped over the blood-stained floorboards. Now, we were twenty steps from where my great, great, great grandfather had found her brittle form, crushed on the landing, pale and decaying, with mottled skin and rotting flesh.

Goosebumps pimpled my skin, and the hair on the nape of my neck prickled, standing on end. My body rippled with a shiver, my hands clenching into a fist.

I saw something move in the gloom, and it looked like a shadow moving within the darkness.

I kept my eyes on it, studying it, waiting for it to move again to figure out what it was. It wasn't until it lept out, shrieking, arms flailing, that I finally stumbled away. While my stomach twisted and my heart skittered in my chest, I felt, more than heard, Kendra fall to the ground, cowering behind me.

A scream that I couldn't be sure had come from me or Kendra pierced the air, but I didn't turn or run. Instead, my vision tunnelled, and I drove my fist through the air, landing my punch with a dull thunk.

'AGH! Jesus!'

I blinked, staring at the kinky brown coils and expresso skin of the woman I knew.

'Carmon?' The air whooshed into my lungs, wheezing, as I remembered how to breathe. I fell back against the ground beside Kendra. A cold draft skittered over the floorboards, chasing the flushed heat that coursed over my body. 'What the hell is wrong with you!'

Pain seared my hand, radiating from my knuckles, but I reached for Kendra, pressing my fingers against her wrist. Her pulse raced, and she gasped for air, panting as the colour returned to her cheeks.

Carmon had dissolved into a fit of laughter, holding onto the wall as she doubled over. A groaning pain sullied the laughter as she tenderly touched a finger to a welting bruise that bloomed on her jaw. 'I'm sorry.' She rasped, wheezing between bouts of hysteria. 'You should have seen your faces!'

Kendra scampered to her feet and then shoved past Carmon, turning a bright shade of red. She hung her head, letting her hair curtain her blistering embarrassment as she trudged down the hallway, following the walls around the corner.