A Breath of Scandal

Lips red as blood, hair black as night, bring me your heart, my dear, dear snow white. -Snow White and the Huntsman (2013) Killed. The thought was as bitter as the bile in her mouth. If only it wasn't the truth. She pulled open the rusty screen door, its hinges squealing as she stumbled into the slight darken chamber of the withering manor. Her face somewhat pale as death while her hands trembled in fear. The house had become aware of itself, of the history that echoed within the walls. Somewhere within, mixed with the angst, were images of forsake and aloneness. Yet it was dim and uninviting. But here in the flickering light of the old house, still hours from twilight, the furniture dusty and old, looking as though it would crumble to dust if it had been touch it. Mould ate away at the walls and flooring, cob webs bordering at each corner of the room and the windows were caked in grime and for the most parts boarded up leaving only the slimmest of slithers for the rays to struggle through. Moaning and creaking noises being projected from the house, bundled panic into her chest, she stopped; breathing hard, her chest squeezing as she gasped for oxygen before advancing further across the room, she could hear the creaking sound as her weight pressed into the wooden boards. A foul stench invaded her nostrils as she glances around for its source. "S-sir, y-you in here?" She swallowed, couldn't shake the feeling of unease that often haunted her every time she visited. "Ain't I usually?—" His voice was an enchanting music to her ears that lure any and everyone who dear to listen to their death. "—I have been waiting for you," he coos at her, his dark, ominous gazed fixed on her with unwavering interest. Silas, perched relentlessly on the edge of his desk, wore an impassive face as he glared at the lady who was somewhat in her mid- forties. His red eyes scrutinize her from head to toe, calculating her every movement. "Oh, wise one, bear any good news," A sinister smile creeps onto his face, brandishing his white teeth. The woman's eyes met Silas', her lips quiver with hatred and self-betrayal. The tension ascended as he's aware of the secret she holds. "Yes, Lord Silas, it is done"