The Last Damsel - Prompt Challenge

Day Eleven - Light

It's only as Cedrix walks past the guest room that he realises there's a light on, and it's only as he realises there's a light on that he hears the scream.

In one smooth movement he's drawn his sword and thrown open the door, ready for whatever lies behind.

Or not, as it turns out.

Four lumpy faces turn to stare at him. The adrenaline coursing through his body means it takes him a moment, but it dawns on him that, despite the slathering of mud and disturbingly flowery headscarves obscuring their features, he knows these faces.

Joaquinne is perched in front of the unlit fireplace, hands paused mid-air as if he'd been interrupted part way through a sentence and face lit eerily from below by Tiff, seated next to him holding a flickering candle to his chin. Their faces are both covered in a sickly green paste, and, for some reason, they're wearing matching nightclothes.

Opposite them, across an ocean of nail polish, candied fruit, and empty wine bottles, are Alyce and Tim. They're clutching each other, also in nightgowns, Tim raised up on his knees to properly cling to Alyce, who's trembling on the edge of her wheelchair. From the little Cedrix can see of the expressions beneath their muddy masks, he'd make a confident guess that the scream came from one of them.

All four of them stare at him. Cedrix stares back for just a moment, before abruptly turning right around and letting the door swing shut behind him.

Whatever's going on in there, Cedrix really doesn't want to know.