“No!”
“Yes,” Ryland taunted him, his voice deep and menacing.
“How did you get here?” The level of fear in Cail’s voice was shocking to me. Why did Ryland’s presence scare him so much?
I felt the small paw of a rodent press against my shoulder before the full weight of the creature transferred onto my collar bone. I opened my mouth in horror, not daring to move, my body unwillingly taking in a shaky breath that I prayed was not audible.
“It is my mind, Cail.” Ryland said, I could hear the smile in his voice.
Everything froze as the rat walked across my back, his body tangling itself in my hair. I tried to keep my panic under control, my shaky inhale silent as he made his passage.
“Not for long.”
The tiny closet shook as an explosion rattled the space sending books and baskets onto me. I screamed and covered my head, hoping my voice was not heard through the fight that was waging right outside the door.
My breathing picked up into a pant as I began to panic. The explosions grew in number but moved further down the hall, Ryland leading Cail away from me and giving me a chance to escape. I wiped away the invisible tracks of the rat, my shoulders shuddering in disgust.
Without thinking, I broke out of the closet and took off back the way I had come. I turned into a hallway I had never entered before, hoping the two locked in battle had not seen me flee.
I was at a disadvantage here. I only knew parts of this mansion. I knew how to get to Ryland’s room, and most of the servants corridors of the upper levels, but the main living space and all the lower rooms were foreign to me. If I was going to get the upper hand I wasn’t going to find it here.
I continued to run down the hall, my feet slipping on decaying carpet at my increased speed.
A loud crash echoed in the space around me causing light fixtures to shake and pieces of plaster to fall. I stopped in my tracks at the movement, my pulse surging heavily as I waited, as I tried to figure out what course to take. I could hear it pulse through my ear drums and feel it move through my fingers.
“Don’t stop moving,” I whispered aloud to myself. But I still couldn’t move. Slowly I pried my feet off the floor and moved into a run, knowing that a moving target was harder to catch. I kept going until I came to a split flight of stairs, one side leading back up to Ryland’s room, the other side leading down to the unknown levels of the house. I stayed still for a second before moving to go down.
I picked up my pace as I moved down the stairs, my hand lightly grazing the dirt and mold covered railing for stability. I turned corner after corner as I descended, each level becoming more infested, more deteriorated, and more blood covered. Even though I knew that was what it was, I begged my mind to believe it to be paint. It was splattered everywhere.
The more I moved through the silence, the more I became aware of every noise and twitch of the air surrounding me. I jumped at every creak, at the steady thumping that came from somewhere around me. I would pass doors to floors of the estate, sure I heard voices on the other side only to stop and have those voices turn into the squeaking of mice or ripping of paper.
I stopped abruptly when I had moved down about six stories, my heart thumping wildly at the pool of red liquid that occupied the landing of the steps below me. The smooth red fluid swirled aggressively as if it was being disturbed, as if something around the next turn was moving through it.
I gasped as my muscles tensed, my panic growing. I turned as quickly as I could, running back up the stairs, desperate to get away from whatever was deep within the pool of blood.
I had gone up far more floors than I had gone down when I realized that nothing was changing. I should have moved back into the manor by now, but the walls still remained red and glistening. My eyes darted around wildly before I turned to retrace my steps.
Two steps down, I howled in horror as my foot plunged into the warm pool of fluid. I looked at the bubbling pool of blood, fear pulsing through my ears. I had left this pool behind me, at least ten flights of stairs down. And yet here it was.
As I watched, the liquid lurched, growing a step and splashing against my foot. I screamed and grasped the door knob to the nearest floor. I flung my body through the door, not bothering to check if anyone was waiting for me on the other side. My only thought was to get away from the pool of blood.
Thirty-Two