Page 17 of Hollow House
Instinct forced me to lift my gaze, and a shadow movement caught my eye. I tried to follow it but lost it in the darkness.
My heart raced, picking up in speed each second the silence remained, but I couldn’t find what had caused the shadow.
I stared across the landscape, narrowing my focus. Nothing else around me mattered. I felt like my sanity was slowly slipping.
Bang. Bang. Bang.
I jumped, startled by the sudden loud sound.
A pounding behind me sent a shiver down my spine. I turned, my heart racing, not initially finding anything. My gaze swept across the garden, and the pounding continued. I lifted my stare to the mansion, and movement in one of the windows on the second floor caught my eye.
My feet instinctively moved forward. The closer I got, I could make out the silhouette of a woman. The pounding grew more furious.
I stopped when I finally had a good view, and my jaw dropped. The woman in the window waved frantically to me. She glanced over her shoulder and pounded again at the window. I stood frozen with fear, watching in horror.
Where was she?
I had to get to her, to help her. Was she hurt?
A shadow crept over her, and the look of terror that spread across her face kept me paralyzed. All I could do was helplessly watch.
She mouthed something, and I swore it looked likehelp.
A hand wrapped around her and covered her mouth. One moment, she was there, and the next, she was ripped backward. I couldn’t see who grabbed her, but the second she disappeared, I moved.
I sprinted back inside, straight into the group of people still dancing to the music. I pushed through bodies grinding on each other, enjoying their pleasures on the dance floor.
“Help,” I said meekly.
No one paid me any attention.
“Help,” I said a bit more forcefully, drawing some attention, but no one moved.
I sprinted through the crowd and found the staircase I’d seen when I entered the house.My feet hurried, taking them two at a time. Fuck, why did it feel like I was moving in slow motion? Every second passed was one wasted.
Upstairs was more of a maze than the garden or first floor. Which window was it? A few down in the left of the house maybe?
I walked down the hallway and started trying doors I knew had windows facing the back of the house. The first door I tried led to an empty room. A single bed sat inside, alongside minimal furniture, but not the woman.
I tried the next one, the door locked. Fuck, I hadn’t thought about what to do if the door was locked. Was she inside? Could she hear me trying to get to her?
I pounded on the locked door, hoping someone inside would open. If she was in there, perhaps my noise and persistence could stop whatever was happening. I pulled back my arm again to hit the door, but it stopped. A strong hand caught my wrist and pulled me back. My body spun, slamming into a massive wall.
Not a wall—a man. The man from before stared down at me, still holding my wrist. He cocked his head, his eyes questioning me.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“That woman!” I said, trying to catch my breath. “She needs help.”
His brows furrowed only slight.
“What woman?” he asked.
“I saw her,” I said, trying to calm myself down and reasonably explain what I’d seen.
He didn’t ask anything further, instead moving me back from the door. I opened my mouth to protest until I watched him knock on the door.
“Open,” he demanded in a stern, powerful tone.
