XI

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cQueen staggered as cold air rushed around him. He felt the drunk haze lift from his eyes , while the pounding behind his ears slowed. He leaned against the wall, using it to support himself, taking a minute to feel alright again, though his vision still spun. Was it the alcohol? Opening his eyes, he saw Echo stood directly opposite him, watching him with a smile.


"What?" He asked, trying to keep his eyes from wandering her body. He felt a flush creep up his cheeks when he saw nothing but dark lace. Her skin was paler in places and it took him a moment to see they were bandages. "What happened?" He walked forwards reaching to check her arms, but his uncooperative feet staggered.

"Nothing." She smiled as he ran his fingers over her arms: skin then bandage, skin then bandage, over and over. "Just an uncooperative door." McQueen frowned, not liking her flippant answer. Some of the bandages were stained pink, blood pooling on the other side. But before he could ask for more information, she coiled her fingers through his pant loops, dragging him closer. "Did you still want to go to that quiet, restful place?"

McQueen blinked. "That's not here?"

A soft, feminine chuckled came from Echo's lips. "No silly. This is just the corridor. Follow me." Slipping her hand in his, she led him over to another set of stairs, their layout matching the floor below. Curving round to the right, McQueen kept his eyes on the carpet beneath him, so he didn't lose his footing. Trailing up and up, he felt like the steps went on forever, until he stumbled tragically and found himself on the top floor.

Directly ahead was much like the floor blow; a grand display of windows overlooking the front drive, though from up here you could see a lot more of the grounds. In fact, his mind thought distantly, you could almost see to the bridge. It was dark now, but in the day time...

A sudden change of pace snapped McQueen from his thoughts and he found once again he feet were being uncooperative. Blinking at his surroundings, he saw similar doors to the ones below, and he quickly counted four. Unfortunately, only one was open, showing a very grand room with a long-clothed table that could have been fit for a king. However, they didn't stop there, and by McQueen's guess, the entire floor was empty.

"Why is no one up here?" He asked. The varnished wooden floor was solid under foot, and the patter of their footsteps was too loud. Beautiful large plants with a strong fresh fragrance flew past them as Echo continued to pull him along. If his drunk brain wasn't too addled, he calculated they would be coming up on the back of the house soon enough and there wasn't anywhere else to go.

"The... owners of each room, aren't here. They only come home for special occasions. In fact," Echo paused looking back. "They're due to arrive soon, so maybe you can come back when the whole House is in swing." She chuckled, "Now that is a sight to see."

McQueen didn't reply, only giving one short, curt nod. Despite the alcohol running through his mind, he had no doubt he never wanted to come back here again. Part House, part bar, part brothel, it was the last place he wanted to be, but in his current state he didn't want to risk his chances at getting home.

Finally, they did, as McQueen predicted, reach the back of the house and there was nothing at the end of this corridor but a tall window that overlook the stone veranda and the gardens beyond. That and a very oddly placed bookshelf mainly for its complete lack of books.

"What are you-?" But as the words tumbled from McQueen lips Echo softly and easily pride back the case, revealing a hidden staircase behind. "...Awesome." He breathed, feeling every cell of his childhood ablaze with excitement.

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