Unpainted

I

"I must leave now," I said to Jillian. It was late, and the night was dark and dreary, there was something in the air, something strange that couldn't be seen or touched, just felt. "My mom must be concerned". He nodded comprehensively.
"Let me walk you to the entrance," he said offering me his arm. I took it and walked with him to the front door.
"It was a pleasure to have you as my guest, Clarice" he smiled openly and his dark black eyes never left mine. Something mysterious rambled around his countenance. He kissed both of my cheeks as a farewell and opened the door to my carriage. My chauffeur herded the horses after I entered and the carriage started moving, leaving Jillian behind. It started raining, drops of rain crashed against the glass of the window. I feared that I wasn't gonna get home, rain meant that the wheel could get stuck on the mud, and if that happened, a thief or someone might come in our hunt, even a killer, and what could be told to my parents? Such a shame couldn't be endured by my family. We have had enough bearing the death of my sister. We don't need any other degrading situation. Her death was pretty much what you call murder, she went to the town on the pursuit of a new painting for her room. A guy with an unknown identity sold her the painting she was looking for and carried it home to help her. But the guy who was supposed to be the seller turned out to be a murderer. He killed her in our own house, took all her money and some family wealth and for starters, my motionless sister's body was left in my room, as an attempt to show it was suicide. But clearly, it wasn't. The painting she bought was intact, the murderer apparently had enough time to hang it on my wall, I'm not gonna lie when I say the painting is beautiful, yes, is, because it's still hanging in my tapestry, we tried to bring it down but somehow it was stuck to the wall. I decided to leave it there since it didn't look bad and it was the only thing left from my sister Janette. It was about a rose, the painting, which was on fire and a skull was in the background resting on a wooden table. Rose petals fell from the skull to the floor, where there was the rose on fire. Roses were my sister's favourite flowers. If there was any rose around our chateau, it was because of her.

The carriage arrived home. A flash of lightning struck on the sky lighting up everything around me, the cracks of the castle could be seen clearly merging with the rainwater. My family has lived there since hundreds of centuries ago, the castle was typical of the Medici family, it characterized us. The chauffeur got down and went to open the door of the carriage for me. He helped me to get down and walked me to the entrance of the castle, my home where some servants who were still awake opened the door for me. I made my way up to my room through the halls with red carpets on the floor and grey tapestries with pictures of my ancestors hanging over them. Each one of their faces was serious, showing off how powerful our family had become for the last two centuries. I entered my room, apparently, my parents weren't awake. There was the picture the murder had hanged on the wall when my sister was killed, the rose on fire with the skull. But there was something I had never seen before, it was a paper, more like a letter, right in front of the framework, it could easily fall with a simple blow. I walked towards it and to it. It was sealed with paraffin, with no symbol to identify its sender. Just paraffin, red paraffin. It's didn't even said to who was it for. I opened it anyway, but as soon as I started reading, I let the paper slip through my hands and fall into the floor. The ink hadn't written those letters, it was blood, it shined against the light of the candles, armed like it was fresh and as seconds passed by the colour red got more intense. All of a sudden and out of nowhere a supernatural sound, like a scream of panic and plaintive invaded my room, bringing me down to my knees. I covered both my ears trying to bear the loud sound. I looked around and there was nothing. My heartbeat raced, and raced, and raced. My hands became cold and my body went numb. I couldn't move rather than just stare at the empty room lighted by the candle's weak fire. I looked at the painting and the skull wasn't there anymore, neither the rose on fire. It was just a blank space, empty, like if all the memories that picture held were thrown away. I blinked and as my eyes opened, the painting now held my sister, my dead sister in it. She was looking at me, in a spectral way, in a way that's not human, deadly, like if she hadn't  recognized me. Her mouth trembled as horrible sounds came out of it, my hands never left my ears. I saw her bending and taking the rose on fire, and putting it out of the picture, letting it fall to the floor, the wooden floor. I wanted to call out her name but words couldn't come to my mouth. I had no control over my body. The wooden floor started to burn, embers of fire were expanding over it, and I couldn't do anything, my sister stared at me, tilting her head to the right and smiling. I freaked out. She stretched her ghastly hand to me and placed it over my cheek, where tears were falling, tears of consternation fell down my cheeks. Her touch was cold, deadly. I still couldn't move, and she was already placing her hand around my wrist and closing it, slowly, chary. It happened in a matter of a blink, she had pulled me inside the painting with her. But I was now standing in my room again, starring at the painting a guy has just placed in my sister's room. I wanted to gift something and I liked the painting since it has roses in it. It'll be a nice gift and her rook was in the lack of new paintings.
"Thank you so much, sir," I said to him whilst handing him a package with coins of gold in it. He smiled and said goodbye with a gesture. He left and the click on the door downstairs told me I was home alone. Or so I thought so. I heard steps on the stairs. Tap, tap. I wondered what to do. I stood still in my sister's room, the door was open, I couldn't leave it like that. I gave a step towards the door, cautiously. The stepping on the stairs had stopped. Whoever was there was already upstairs. I extended my hand to the doorknob but suddenly a figure appeared. It was Jillian, my sister's friend who's house I visited today in the morning cause he invited me and it was going to be mean from my part to decline his invitation, he was holding a rose bouquet. He was the one whose steps could be heard.
"You left your bouquet, Janette," he said holding the bouquet full of red roses with both of his hands. I sighed as in relief and stared at him. I was about to grab the bouquet when I realized it was on fire, the petals were turning black, like carbon, their ashes fell slowly to the floor. I looked up to Jillian. A half-moon bright smile was drawn in his face.
"Jillian...?" I said, frightened. His sight, the way he was looking, deadly, didn't give me any safe feeling. He let the bouquet fall to the ground. I stepped back but he stretched his hand to me and held me by the wrist.
"You must fear nothing," he said, and his voice was anything but tremulous. His deep dark black eyes were on me. His mein was like the ones the predator gives to his prey, he was thirsty for blood; he knew what he was doing and nothing would stop him. I tried screaming, but a big bear hand covered my mouth, hushing any sound that could come out of it. A shiny sharp blade shone on his hand. One. Two. Three.  There was nothing left to do. Four. Five. Six. It was over.