A Beautiful Decay

The Locket

It was past midnight when she finally pushed back the last of hollow moving boxes. The old attic lay barren save for a few old knick-knacks and newspapers that had been neatly tucked away into a far corner.

The girl glanced around, squinting into a corner shaded in darkness. 

Something glittered, moonlight reflecting off of it like a diamond. The girl kneeled down onto wooden boards that cracked softly under her weight. 

She reached out tentatively as if the shadows would reach out and drag her down into them if she moved too quickly. Her fingers scooped up a small necklace hung from a thin gold chain. The centerpiece was carved into the shape of a heart and after brushing off old dust, a worn out engraving could be seen. 

Les yeux de la mort

The girl had taken french but had mostly looked out the window instead of actually speaking the language. She could only deciper one word. 

Death. 

The beautiful slope of the engraving captivated her attention far more than the crpytic message. She circled the locket around her fingers, studying the sharp curve of the heart.

It was too beautiful for her to not put on. So she did.

Her fingers deftly clasped the necklace around her neck. The weight of it felt familiar around her neck, as if she had never gone a minute without wearing the thing. 

The floorboards groaned from somewhere behind her. She whirled on her heels, almost slipping in her haste to stand facing the tiny window, too small for ever her to crawl out of. 

Shadows crept about the room slowly, like honey dripping from it's dish in that slow and thoughtful way it always seemed to possess. 

Her heart beat more quickly, pulsing through her veins uncomfortably. 

She was tempted to call out and ask who was there. However the thought of something answering her back kept her silent. 

A breeze ruffles her curls, although the window remained firmly closed. The smell of the air makes her wrinkle her nose in disgust.

It smelled like death. 

The floorboard creaked more loudly, this time from the spot she had been facing a moment earlier. She turned even faster than before. The shadows were no longer abstract. They reached out for her, swirls billowing closer and closer.

No. Not for her. For the locket. 

She ripped the thing from her neck. Holding it away from her as if it had burned her chest. When she blinked the shadows no longer held a sinister shape, instead resting on the floorboards as if they had never moved in the first place.

The girl stood for a moment, surveying the room for any signs of danger. But she was alone in the attic, as she had been the entire time; she almost laughed at her own paranoia. 

The necklace was quickly refastened in her hurry to leave the room. 

She scooped up empty boxes under each arm, thankful for the job to be done. It was just too late at night, everything would be clearer in the light of day. She shivered slightly, a chill running down her spine.

Something drew her eyes back to the corner she had watched earlier. 

A pair of hollow eyes stared back.