Page 6 of Noire Moon
“Holy fuck. That was intense.” Rita breathes a little unsteadily but laughs at the same time. “Looks like we’re on our own from here, bitches.”
We can’t even hear anyone else, so who the fuck knows where those men just took the rest of the glamazons to. A shudder runs through me that they could so easily pluck multiple people out of thin air like that.
“Let’s go this way.” Cora points toward a doorway off to one side, heading away from the mirrors. None of us mind avoiding that particular space now that we’ve seen what happened to the others who barely stepped a foot inside.
As we approach the doorway we find ourselves walking into a room that looks like some kind of grand ballroom. The entire hall is lit with candles on free-standing high candelabras, and from somewhere close by, discordant piano music plays.
It’s eerie and fucking brilliantly atmospheric. Whoever puts these events together is a master of theatrics. I’ll give them that.
“So tell me why we all thought this was a good idea again?” I laugh nervously. Darting my eyes around in anticipation of another ambush, but nothing comes.
But I can feel eyes on me the whole way.
“We’re definitely being watched.” Rita shivers, sounding more than a little delighted by the thought. “And that is precisely why we’re here, remember.”
We cross through the ballroom, the three of us forming a tight bunch as if that might possibly protect us until we find doors at the far end of the ballroom leading us into a narrow hallway.
This space is only wide enough for us to walk through in a single file and has been draped on all sides with black fabric. Gusts of air make the material billow around us as we start to move along the narrow passage.
Cora is ahead of me, and Rita is behind. We’re all holding hands like a linked chain, and our breaths are shallow, frantic gusts.
There is no doubtsomethingis coming, and nervous tension crowds us so thickly you could slice the air in two.
Rita almost jumps on my back and screams in my ear.
“Oh god. Something grabbed me.”
Just as I try to crane my head and look, Cora lurches to one side, frantically batting away a gloved hand reaching out from behind the black cloth.
I’m caught by the ankle and nearly climb the walls, only to be surrounded by more hands clutching at me, trying to pull at my limbs and my clothes from the other side.
“Go!” Rita shrieks, and that’s all it takes to have us bolting forward.
We’re running blindly now. Half stumbling as the passageway seems to go on forever and more of the disembodied hands continue to reach out in an effort to snatch at our legs and arms.
Finally, we tumble into a stairwell. Black carved wooden steps wind up in a spiral staircase.
“Keep moving. I’m not going back through there.” I push at Cora, and she clutches her chest. Nodding in agreement.
“I feel like my heart is about to explode.” Rita wheezes behind me.
We climb to the next floor, and I try to make a mental note of the fact we’re now on at least the third floor. But other than that, I have no idea what part of the mansion we might be in.
The staircase exits into a large foyer with eerie white sheets draped over what appears to be furniture, but in all honesty, it could be concealing all sorts of horrors. As I spin in place, trying to figure out which way might be the best to go, my adrenaline begins to spike again.
From only a few feet away, a clanking of chains starts up, and we bunch together. Each of us blindly reaches out to clasp hands, because whatever it is, it’s moving.
“Can you see a way out?” Rita whispers. Cora makes a whimpering noise, and the chains get louder, followed by a thumping and dragging noise against the floorboards.
I’m trying to look for a door we can bolt out of when I catch a reflection in the mirror. A quick movement that draws my eye even though I don’t want to look. I don’t want to see what lurks there, but I can’t stop myself. The scream doesn’t even leave my throat when my eyes lock on another man in a skull mask in the reflection, silently tilting his head to one side while standing right behind us.
“Oh my god.” We all make panicky noises and scamper backward to get away from him. He’s running heavy chains through his hands that I’m certain are coated in dried blood.
“There’s a door.” Cora tugs on my arm, and we’re running again. The welcome sight of an exit is only a momentary wash of relief.
We burst through, only to descend into pitch black.
It’s so silent in here I can hear the blood rushing in my ears. Like being locked in a sound-proofed box.
