The
light passed along the wall, an ethereal cold white glow that cast
strange shadows on the wall. As it travelled down the corridor, it
illuminated a large wooden crate, which had remained mouldy and
unused for several years.
"Get back!" Hissed the
man, whose name was Bridgemore, as he and the two behind him shrunk
against the box, shielding themselves from the light. It paused on
the crate, staring intently.
"Oh gods, it heard us!"
Whimpered the woman, Leniru, tears running down her face.
"Shut up-shut up!"
Whispered Bridgemore.
The girl, named Reannette,
stared at the light, entranced.
"We're going to die."
She said calmly and clearly, and although she spoke softly, it seemed
to echo through the endless hallways. Was the light getting closer
now?
"Were not going to die,
don't say that little one!" Blubbered Leniru, her voice just as
loud.
"Oh yes, we are." Said
Reannette, an odd smile on her face, "But it's OK. We can be with
them." Her eyes were glassy and unresponsive.
"No, no, no, stop it, stop
it!" There was no doubt about it, the light was getting closer now,
wobbling, as if its caster was taking slow, lurching steps.
"Run!" Shouted Bridgemore,
not bothering to be quiet anymore.
He grasped Leniru and
Reannette's arms, and shot off down the corridor. Leniru ran with
him, sobbing, but Reannette shook her arm out of his grip.
"My baby!" Shrieked
Leniru, distraught. Bridgemore, who was so intent on escape, risked a
glance behind him, but what he saw made him stop completely. The
light, which was a now a warm shade of orange, was just behind the
box, centimetres from where Reannette was hidden. She shot one last
joyful look at them, then stood up, directly into the light. The glow
turned a deep red colour, and the caster of the light started
singing. Not beautiful rhythmic singing, but a deep indiscernible
melody. A shadowy figure was barely visible through the crimson glow.
Tall and elegant, it moved towards Reannette, who was staring
blissfully at the figure. She opened her mouth to say something, but
never had the chance. The thing casting the light shot towards her,
unbelievably fast, its strange singing turned into a horrible
screech, like a war cry.
Bridgemore, all bravery lost
now, grabbed Leniru's arm and ran down the opposite end of the
hall, practically dragging her. She kicked and shouted, but a strange
adrenaline rush had come over Bridgemore. Reannette's screams
echoed through the endless halls, drowning out Leniru's yelling
altogether.
THREE
MONTHS EARLIER
If there was ever a word to
describe The Blind Beggars Tavern & Inn, filthy would probably be
that word. The glasses were grimy and chipped, a layer of thick dust
clung to the furniture like glue, and the stench of alcohol hung in
the air. None of this must have bothered the customers though,
because the Blind Beggar was also quite successful. Every seat in the
house was often filled, and today was not going to be an exception.
".... And then she said to
me she did, she said, I accidently left me' coins on ya' kitchen
table! An' I said, yeah, sure you did missus'! Just like I left
my house
on this rich fella's property!" Rambled Private Stots, who was
more commonly known in the Blind Beggar as 'Stottsy'.
The whole tavern roared with
laughter as he told his story, including a small, stubby man sitting
next to Stottsy, who was known as Mr Bridgemore Blue. Mr Blue had a
peculiar accent and a mop of curly brown hair, along with a rather
toothy grin.
"What happened next?!" He
asked Stottsy eagerly.
"The lunatic slapped me
right across the cheek!" He yelled, and the tavern once again
lapsed into an uproar of mirth. This was the kind of thing that
happened every night in the Blind Beggar, and it was just as the
barman began to tell a tale about his bad leg, the mayor's wife and
a very drunk dog that the daily routine was rudely interrupted.
The door of the tavern
slammed open, and a ferocious looking woman stepped inside.
"Bridgemore!" She shrieked
to the far side of the room, where Mr Blue was seated. He seemed to
shrink in his chair as the lady stormed up to him.
"What time did I tell you to
be back!?" She yelled at him, her round face contorted in rage.
"S-Seven dear..." Said Mr
Blue feebly. The tavern proceeded to watch quietly as Mrs Blue ranted
at her husband, who cowered in his seat.
"Said you would be back
at a reasonable hour! Seven pm you said, and what time is it know?
Eleven! Eleven o' clock at night! We've got a wedding to go to
tomorrow, in case you haven't noticed, and what am I going to say
when we show up and you've got the mother of all hangovers!?"
With that, she grabbed him by
the back of his shirt and steered him out onto the open street, where
they could hear the Blind Beggar burst into laughter once more.
"What were you thinking?"
Asked Mrs Blue.
"I was going to come soon
dear, honest-"
"As if! Come on, we'd
better get some sleep or we'll both
look like a disaster at the wedding!" She said, shooting him a
filthy look.
Mr Blue didn't dare to talk
back to his wife. But he was still a little disappointed as he lay in
bed with her, thinking about what the mayor's wife could've
possibly been doing with a drunk dog.
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