Corruptable

Chapter 4

Chapter 4:  Welcome Foolish Mortals

"Well, that was a tad cliché." remarked Abigaile.

"I told ya...spooks." mumbled Robert.

"Feh!" the Ambassador exclaimed looking down at Robert. "That was the wind you empty headed, superstitiousness egg-man!"

Sally looked around the dimly lit foyer. The moon was now totally enveloped within the clouds, and yet, some form of an eerie blue light was cast past the purple drapery in the windows on either side of the doors, giving just enough light to make out the structure of the room. It seemed small, just enough for about twenty or so people. There were two small tables with candelabras beneath the windows. The smell of cedar wood and vanilla filled the air. From what Sally could see, there didn't seem to be any doors or exit from the room other than those which they just entered from. On the wall in front of them hung a portrait of a man. The picture and it's frame were lit by the inexplicable outside light, giving it the appearance that it was glowing. The man in the picture was fairly young and handsome. He had a welcoming smile and warm eyes.

"Is there anybody that is home?" the Ambassador called. The foyer was small, but the question seemed to echo for miles. Though its journey was long, it received no answer.

"Listen, sport," said Robert, stepping in front of Nitrokoff, "ain't nobody been home for years. Your chains have all been yanked, y'hear? Now I suggest we find ourselves a fireplace 'fore we freeze to death in this darkness."

At that moment the Ambassador looked past Robert. His eyes widened and his mouth began to tremble as he quietly uttered,

"Bozhe moy!"

He stumbled backward unblinking and fell to the floor. Sally and Tom went to help him, but he swatted them away.

"smotret', look, the portrait!"

Sally turned to look but nothing seemed to be different. It was the same portrait that had hung there before.

"What do you mean?" she said.

The Ambassador stumbled to his feet.

"It was changing!" He cried, eyes still locked in the portrait. "The man, he started aging, and then, it was the skeleton and his eyes and–"

"Easy there, Ambassador," Robert said, calming him down, "look," he pointed to the picture, "there ain't nothin' wrong with it, see? Just a picture."

"It is not just a picture," the Ambassador called, "it's a spook!"

At that he turned to the door but found it locked. He began jiggling the knob furiously.

"What kind of door," he strained, trying to pry it open, "locks on the outside?"

"The kind that wants to keep something in," Tom muttered.

Sally felt a chill move up her back at the thought, but the chill soon turned into the feeling of a cold hand gripping her shoulder. She screamed and swung her umbrella to fight it. When she turned to face the violator, however, she found it was nothing but a loose drape from the window behind her, flowing through some unknown source of wind. She steadied her breathing.

"I could've sworn there was someone—"

"There ain't no one!" Robert interrupted, "I keep tellin' y'all, this place ain't nothin' but abandoned; there ain't been anyone livin' here for years! I mean, just look at the place, you really think anyone actually lives here? It's plum dumb to think that anyone, I mean anyone, could really–"