by Morgana Best
“You need to get inside,” I said. “It’s dark.”
“Settle down. I can deal with a little darkness.”
“A man was killed here recently.”
“You’re right,” Cordelia said. “Why don’t you sleep in my room tonight?”
I considered it for a minute, but then shook my head. “No, I’ll be fine, thanks anyway.”
I slid my phone into my pocket just as I stopped outside the door to my new room. I pulled the keycard out of the paper sleeve, and slid it into the lock. A small green light lit up next to the handle I pushed it down and opened the door.
“I’m sorry!” a voice called as I stepped in. A young woman looked up from scrubbing the walls. “I’m not finished,” she said.
I was somewhat irritated. I wanted to get into my room and kick off my shoes.
“Please don’t tell anyone,” the maid said. “I was supposed to be done already, but these markings are so hard to get off, and I’m not even done.”
All over one wall were white lines. There were strange symbols, a large pentagram and letters which didn’t seem to spell any words that I knew. They looked as though they had been made with chalk.
“What’s all this?” I asked.
“I don’t know,” she said with a shrug. “They were everywhere. The police took lots of photos and now I have to get rid of them all. They won’t come off.”
I took one more step and then froze. I tried to suck in a breath, but none would come. I felt something, something strange, something pulling on me, something I was sure the maid could not feel.
I closed my eyes for a moment and tried to get a handle on the feeling, but it remained somewhere in the room, hidden.
I opened my eyes to find the maid staring at me.
“Are you all right, miss?”
I shook my head. “I’m just really tired.”
“I’m sorry. Let me just finish getting these off the wall.”
I nodded. My luggage had been delivered to the room, and I set about putting my clothes into the dresser.
“All of the symbols were like that?” I asked, indicating the white marks that hadn’t yet been wiped away.
“Yes. It kind of scared me,” she added. “I don’t know why.”
“They are freaky,” I agreed. The strange symbols and letters were off putting, although the feeling that I was still experiencing was even worse. It felt like it was pulling me somewhere.
Finally, she stopped scrubbing. “I’m sorry; I can’t get them all off. I think the room will have to be repainted.”
“That’s fine,” I said, with a wave of my hand. “I don’t mind at all.”
I watched her go, trying not to think about the fact that a man who was dead had slept in the bed, on those sheets the maid had carried out of there.
It made me uneasy, but I did my best to settle myself. I was the Keeper of The Orpheans after all. I had spoken to the dead before, and I wondered if I could do so now. I walked to the middle of the room.
“Hello?” I called out. I didn’t say a name. I was happy to talk to any ghosts who turned up. Surely, I could get information from any of them.
However, nothing happened. I tried again. “Hello? Mr Wallace?”
I stayed quiet for a long while, but Lucas Wallace did not speak to me. I took a deep breath and sat on the edge of the bed. The feeling was still there, the pulling. It was never ending, and it felt as though it might be getting stronger. It was intoxicating almost, and I felt that a part of me wanted to give in to the pulling, to let it tug me away.
I wondered where it would take me. The rational part of me knew that wherever it would take me wouldn’t be good. I figured that Lucas Wallace had probably been taken to the same place. And look what happened to him! Okay, that pushed the idea of letting myself get taken right out of my mind. I sure didn’t want to end up the same way.
I knew what I had to do. I needed to figure out exactly what was in the room with me. I had not the faintest clue what it was, but I knew that there was something. The worst part was that it didn’t feel all that nice.
Chapter 9
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. My bath was going to have to wait. I placed my hands palm down on my legs, just above my knees. I took another deep breath and then I began breathing regularly, slowly, with the same tempo, a breath in, a breath out.
My eyes were closed, but I began to see. It wasn’t just a memory or a thought in my brain. It was as if I were seeing the room now, through my eyelids. Everything had a blue tint to it. And then there was a flash of light, and there they were, the symbols. And not just the ones I had seen, I was now seeing the psychic echo left behind by the mystical scribbling.
Everything otherworldly had a psychic echo. I didn’t have to move my head to see each wall. I could see them all at once. I could see the white lines, the letters, the symbols. In this state, I could see them and recognise them.
They were calling out for something. Bringing it to the room. But no, that wasn’t quite right. There was already something here.
I sucked in a breath as fear overcame me. It ruined my methodical breathing, and it pulled me out of the echo. I lost the room. I was left alone with my thoughts.
I opened my eyes.
Standing in front of me was a shadow. That was the best way to describe the thing in my room, standing over by the wall. It was all black, and tall, and its head, if you could call it that, almost touched the ceiling.
If the blackness was its skin, then its skin was moving, shifting lazily like smoke filmed with a slow motion camera. It rose a bit, twisting into the air before it faded. The creature was vaguely humanoid, with arms and legs, and a long torso made up of the same smoky black as the rest of its body. The thing had no discernible features, no eyes, no mouth, or nose. It moved one of its arms, as I made myself move, and head for the door.
Behind the thing was an almost blank wall, but it still held the remnants of a drawn triangle. That was what the creature had come out of, and that’s what had been pulling at me when I entered. I didn’t know if it had been the dead man, or someone else, but someone had opened a portal in the room.
As I took a wary step towards the door, the thing raised its arm. I froze, and the thing stopped moving, its arm raised, its long fingers curled into a fist. It was a standoff.
Slowly one finger uncurled from that black fist, and it pointed at me. I knew I had to go. I charged at the door, but had only taken two steps before something hot and heavy hit me in the small of my back and sent me falling forwards.
As I rolled over, I saw with horror that the shadow creature was moving.
I scrambled to my feet. “Get away!” I yelled.
The thing laughed. Its head went back and its mouth opened, as black as everything else on the creature. Its laughter was raspy, sickening. I was frozen with fear.
I took a step backwards to the door, but the thing moved quickly, without making a sound. It grabbed me by the arm, its fingers burning my flesh. I tried to scream, but a hand went over my mouth, and I was burning there too, inhaling smoky heat which threatened to roast my lungs and burn my throat.
I was pulled back off my feet, towards the wall. I looked over my shoulder to see the thing holding me, but instead saw that the wall was open now, somehow, nothing but white hot light in a large crack.
The creature stepped through, holding me, bringing me into the crack, into the light.
“No!” I screamed, wrenching my head to the side, trying to break its hold. I reached forward with my hand, my fingers gripping the edge of the wall, as I slid through the crack into the portal.
I couldn’t let go. I knew that. If I let go now, that was the end. There was no coming back.
Or was there? Had Lucas Wallace gone into the portal? He had come back, but he hadn’t come back alive.
I focused everything I had on that one hand, those fingers holding me in the real world.
The creature struggled against me. It rea
ched for my wrist. I closed my eyes, and focused hard on being back in the room. When I opened my eyes, there were no pupils, only white, white like the light coming from the massive crack in the wall. I spoke, my lips moving, the voice mine, but I didn’t know the words I was saying.
I felt the shadow creature losing its grip on me, and I heard it yelling, the same raspy voice that had laughed, but now it was not laughter—it was pain, and I was free, scrambling for the hotel room as my eyes returned to normal.
I turned to see the crack shrinking and saw the shadow creature yelling. It came forward, still yelling, and then it began to fall apart. The smoky aspect of its body faded, and cracks formed, full of blue light. There was a loud pop, and the shadow demon was no more, now a thousand small pieces falling to the floor inside the crack, which shut completely then, with a faint but audible booming sound.
I fell to the floor, panting. I lay there for a moment, gathering the strength to move. My arm burnt still. My lips felt as though they had blistered.
Finally, I stood and made my way into the bathroom, forcing myself not to cry. I stood at the basin and looked into the mirror on the wall. I was burnt, but even as I watched, it faded into nothing. The pain subsided.
What was that creature? Was it simply something that had come through the portal? Was it targeting me, or had I simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time? Did it know any more about me than I knew about it?
Something or someone had killed Lucas Wallace. Had that same creature done it? Why was it after me now?
I did not know the answer to any of those questions, or the answers to a hundred more. I ran a bath, and then lowered myself into the hot water and sighed, laying back and closing my eyes. Maybe I would stay with Cordelia tonight. It might be the safest thing to do. But for now, I could enjoy my bath, the spoils of war in a way. I was safe for the moment, and I knew it. I allowed the hot water to soothe me.
There was a knock on my door, and fear washed over me once more. I hesitated, but then common sense prevailed. The creature wouldn’t knock on the door. I jumped out of the bath, pulled a bathrobe around me, and opened the door. To my relief, Cordelia was standing there.
“Want to have dinner?” Cordelia asked.
“Would you mind if I had dinner with John?”
Cordelia pulled a face, and I thought for a moment that I was in for another lecture about long distance relationships never amounting to anything.
Thankfully, she simply smiled. “I suppose I don’t mind. Is the room creepy?”
“Yes!” I exclaimed without thinking.
Cordelia frowned. “Do you want to sleep in my room tonight?”
I bit a fingernail. “I might, if that’s okay. I’ll see how I feel.”
Cordelia nodded. “Well, go and get ready for dinner with John. You look as white as a ghost. Call me later.”
I shut the door behind her. I had a little time before I was to meet John for dinner, so I took my time getting dressed. I went to the wall, the one that had cracked, and ran my fingertips along it. The portal was gone; I knew it. I could not feel it pulling at me anymore. I wondered if it would stay gone, but I didn’t think that was likely.
I went to sit on the end of the bed again, and I closed my eyes. Maybe there was more to see; maybe I had missed something. I fell into my breathing pattern, and at once saw the original white writings on the wall. Even like this, I did not know what any of them meant. There was nothing to explain who had made them, nothing to explain why a man had died.
My suspect was the creature that had attacked me. It made sense that the thing had taken Lucas Wallace into the portal, since he had been missing for some days. But why had he been brought back? And why had his body been placed in my room? I once again found myself with too many questions, and not enough answers.
I opened my eyes, breaking my trance, and the images faded. I stood. I knew I could not sleep there, not that night. I took a look around the room, and then I went to meet John for dinner. I would have to get my clothes of course, but that could wait for the morning. I had no intention of going back into that room until the sun was up.
Chapter 10
I gazed at the restaurant in awe. I thought the hotel suites were amazing, but this place was on a whole different level. The blue walls were covered in intricate gold embellishments that matched the tables perfectly. A crystal chandelier glistened in the candlelight flickering softly on the tables. My breath caught when I saw two ornate fireplaces blazing in the background. It all felt warm and very safe. I wondered if the other restaurants at the hotel were as lovely a this.
John seemed comfortable in this setting. I supposed he was used to these sorts of accommodations. His work with SI7 probably had him in nice, expensive places like this all the time.
I, on the other hand, felt somewhat underdressed as I gazed around the place. I nervously brushed away a nonexistent wrinkle from the skirt of my simple black dress. My fashion jewellery made me feel like I was playing dress-up as I glanced at the other patrons in their custom suits and designer dresses.
I, of course, should have told John about the portal and the creature, but we saw so little of each other as it was. He lived and worked in the UK, so his visits to Australia were rare and always work-related. I didn’t care if my priorities were a little backwards. Dinner with John trumped a scary monster sealed in a portal.
We made our way through the lavish room towards our seats. It felt like a whole other world, completely removed from dead politicians. Normal, in a ritzy and expensive sort of way.
I stiffened and blinked as I tried to make out two figures going around a corner.
“What’s wrong?” John asked, as his eyes followed my gaze to the now-vacant fireplace, his brows furrowed with concern.
“Probably just my imagination.” I gave him an apologetic smile. “I’ve had a lot on my mind.”
“Not surprisingly,” John said. “I apologise. I am sure you have your hands full, trying to process everything. I shouldn’t have pushed for us to have dinner tonight.”
“Not at all. I’m happy we have a night out.” I shook my head for emphasis. “And it’s nice to have a breather here. It’s gorgeous.”
He did not seem entirely convinced, but he dropped the subject as he took my hand in his. We continued our way to the table hand in hand. The warmth of his fingers squeezing gently into mine felt like a protective charm, warding off all the things that had been on my mind.
I stole a quick glance at the fireplace as we walked across the room. Nothing unusual was there anymore. I had to question if I really saw anything in the first place. It was impossible. I knew it was. Yet I could have sworn that I had seen Douglas arguing with Julie, my nosy parcel delivery lady from back home.
Still, dinner was lovely. I savoured the roasted figs and pickled mushrooms as we talked and talked some more.
I found myself wishing that we were dining privately. I still had a million questions to ask that we couldn’t let people overhear. I wanted to know more about The Orpheans, and more importantly my place in it—if he knew. I wanted to know everything he knew about Douglas. Then there was the mystery, the dead body, and…
No! Stop, I chided myself. Here I was with one of the most handsome men on the planet—or so he seemed to me—in an expensive restaurant, on a date. And my mind was on everything but the date. What in the world was wrong with me?
I gazed around the room once more. I still felt a little out of place. I didn’t go to fancy places like this. Until a few months ago, I would never have afforded to look at this place. Everyone looked so comfortable in this bright, glitzy world. I wondered if I would see these sorts of sights more with my new, secret government job. I felt a little sad that I would never be able to share the truth with Cordelia.
And as if summoned like a demon from the depths of hell, there was Skinny walking through the door in a sleek, form-fitting dress that was entirely too short to be appropriate. I stared at the woman’s back as
she left the room.
That was impossible. There was no way Skinny could be here. She was back at the office complaining about deadlines and subscription sales.
I blinked and restrained the urge to rub at my eyes. I must be more tired than I thought. I knew Skinny wasn’t here. I just had work on the brain. That had to be it. I was hallucinating from all the stress.
“Misty?” John tapped the back of my hand, bringing me back to our date. He gave me a smile as he studied me, waiting for an answer.
My cheeks burnt as I tried to pull the conversation out of my head. What had we just been talking about? My mind was a total blank. I had been so distracted by the illusion of Skinny that I had actually zoned out.
“I’m sorry. What was the question?”
John let out a slow sigh and shook his head with a half smile. “It can wait for now, I suppose. You seem very distracted tonight. Are you sure you’re all right?”
I didn’t want to try to talk about hallucinations, wild imaginations, and monsters in code for those who might overhear. In fact, I would have preferred to forget it all and enjoy this like a normal date, or as normal as two people in our lines of work could enjoy.
“No, no. Everything is fine,” I insisted with as convincing a smile as I could muster, leaning forward attentively. “Please. Tell me what was on your mind. I’ll be ready this time. Scout’s honour.”
John studied me carefully and then poked at his sweet potato with a furrowed brow. I sat patiently as I watched him struggle to find the words to say. This got my attention. Despite how little we saw each other, I knew him. I had never seen him so nervous before. He was rubbing his free hand on his lap, seemingly at a loss as to what to do with it. He glanced around at the walls and fireplace as he struggled with the words. He cleared his throat twice, something he had never really done before.
“Misty, I know it isn’t easy for us to be so far apart all the time,” he started, tapping his fork softly against the plate as he searched out the words he wanted. He always seemed to know the words to say, or when not to say anything at all. Why was it so different tonight? “It is hard to be so far away from you with work.” He carefully set down his fork and sat straight, squaring his shoulders as he gazed straight into my eyes, causing my heart to beat out of my chest. “But I would like to…”