The Life of Her

Into the Lair

How the wind entered the window, slapping itself on the curtain felt so slow and humid. There's a new vibe captivating each cell on me. I was afloat and I was in deep doubts if this is reality to enthrall. We could listen to how the clock worked well above the fireplace, ticking into seconds. Those fingers have shined, the filtered tulips have bloomed on their vases and the arid, scrappy rag was well cleaned.

Everything was moving gradually. Ms. Adair kept herself on the couch, taking the moment to wait. She was well composed. Surely, this woman knows everything that is happening to us. Just like what she said a while ago, she’s our fairy godmother. She’ll help us in some ways.

Even though our second encounter was in terror and it made me quivered, I could say Ms. Everly is a fine woman with a good heart but her intentions are just not sure. I wonder if the profession that those people were talking about is even true as well as the matter that dealt with the man who used to be her lover.

Amber froze on her spot when she heard what the woman told her. Even I didn’t expect that from her. It was alarming – talked about life and death is surely substantial.

“W-What do you mean…my…my time is near?” Amber strumbled.

Ms. Adair let out a heavy puff. “Before I tell you everything. Let’s go somewhere else. The house is currently lively, and we don’t want the authorities to know. To them, I’m already dead, but to you, I’m alive and kicking.” She moved and closed the windows and curtains. She grabbed her notebook and flipped it to the page where her red bookmark was inserted. She faced the fireplace.

The fire was lighting immensely, dancing with the soot. She read something on her notes that only she could understand. Slowly, the ground trembled together with the walls, vibrating to their cores.

The glass chattered and the chandelier whirled in circles. Shallow whispers of those outcries were heard inside the house - screetching, calling for comfort and begging for mercies. The fireplace was torn into two and a rusty staircase slowly emerged leading to an opaque passage. It was obscure. The dust surrounded the room.

Ms. Adair walked to the shelf and grabbed an erstwhile, yellow lantern. She lighted it up and went behind us. Amber was in silence, her hand was in a clench as she tried to wait for answers.

The woman stood, gently pushing our backs to start. We seized a step on the stairs and waited for her call. She seemed to be a little carry of her surroundings. We peeked at her with doubts. She was glancing over the main door and the windows, as if she’s trying to find something or expecting someone. It was probably five-thirty in the evening and the full moon will set forth.

“We have to hurry, before their time will take place. We don’t want to deal with them right now, knowing that you don’t know anything about this.” She said and nudged us through the passage.

As soon as we laid our feet inside, everything had faltered to darkness; the fireplace shut loud into a thunderclap. It was narrow and reed. The walls were heavily bricked, that we couldn’t hear anything from the outside. The tiny droplets from above began to make a tap continuously, giving in a rhythm for us to hear. It was cold and the disagreeable spongy, blue-green moss was already consuming most of it. Ms. Adair took the lead.

Her lightly knotted scarf smelt like roses. She elevated her right hand enough for the lantern to shed light more. Crickets hurdled around. The dabbing sound of our shoes dropping down on the sides echoed, one by one just like the seconds. The floor was reeking wet and facile. I rubbed my nose, holding myself from making a sneeze.

“U-Uh, Ms. Adair? If you don’t mind, how did you end up missing? I mean, it’s been several years when the people last have a contact with you. What happened?” I inquisitively asked.

The woman stayed in silence for a while and decided to give a feedback. “It’s a long story. The truth is, I didn’t die nor I went myself missing. I was brought to somewhere else to learn and be molded to do these tasks. Each year, a random person is being chosen to be like us. And, just beneath this place where an average person wouldn’t see, not until it will choose you to be. All these years, I was just here patiently looking over those souls, taking missions…just like this one.” She looked at Amber.

She stopped right at the end of the way, where a wooden, silver door resided, locked with heavy, corrupted chains. It has an angel engraved, holding a spear, just on top of its stained knob. Something imperious enveloped the place, pulling ourselves.

Amber just attained the will to talk. “Where do you really want to lead us? First, you brought us in your residence and now we’re in front of this dull, whiffy place.” Her voice was cold as her eyes locked to Everly Willow.

The woman didn’t shove. She was well aware that Amber will treat her amiss and boldly.

“You don’t need to give me that attitude just like how you treat your mother.” Her words were sharp as a sword, piercing her soul and ego. Amber clamped her hands into tightly. Grinding her teeth, a black vapor recoiled around her. I moved to Ms. Everly, yet she remained calm.

Amber was getting berserk again. The woman took her point near to her. She remained still and uttered, “I know you already saw those creatures. You should calm your deluge if you don’t want to turn yourself into one of them.”

With promptness, Amber suddenly released the obscured vibe and tried to calm herself. She looked at the woman intently, as if they’re having their private conversation through telepathy, not until she decided to pull her graze. Ms. Everly moved and faced the door once more. She leaned her face near the chains and whispered something.

"Fear not, for the heavens will guide you. Dwell in their presence, rest reside the light that shall pass evil. Reaching souls shall quiver with hope and shall dwell peace."

Then, a cracking sound daggled around. The chains moved like those rattling snakes, pulling themselves from the door and plunged on the floor. The knob glowed as she twitched it open. A melodic song cheered us, calling out for us to move inside. It was heavenly.

Ms. Everly progressed inside. Opening her arms wide, a smile was painted on her face as she addressed us. She was fascinated. With a lovely voice, she said,

“Welcome to the Great Lair.”