Red Bullets in June

Chapter 11: Nightmares

     But he never came back.

     His reassuring lie taunts me as usual.

     Of course, princess.

     I clutch onto my pillow and begin to sob silent tears of grief as that gaping hole in my chest is stretched wider.

     I wish Jaxon was here to comfort me. I really want to cuddle with him right now...

     A shrill and ghost-like cry reels me out of my sorrow. My eyes scatter around the black room in a panic.

     What the heck was that??

     My sobs subside immediately. I quickly wipe my wet cheeks and strain my ears to listen.

     I hear it again, faintly seeping under the crack at the base of my door. It's coming from the hallway. It sounds agonized, whatever it is or whoever it belongs to.

     This mansion isn't haunted, is it?

     I don't know that I want to live in a haunted mansion...

     The uncanny cry creeps into my room a third time and a shiver crawls up my spine.

    What in the heck is that??

     My curiosity gets the best of me.

    I need to check this out. There's no way in heck I can go back to sleep now...

     Tentatively slipping out of my covers, I pad my feet across the cool marble floor and stop by the closet to grab a black, silk, night robe that Jaxon bought me at Prada. I slide it on over his emerald green T-shirt that I've assigned as my new favorite pajamas despite all my lavish Prada nightgowns, and hug it against my body.

     It's cold for an early June morning...

     Eerily cold.

     Eager to discover the source of this otherworldly sound, I don't bother to put on slippers and venture out into the massive open space surrounding the stairs. My eyes flit across every dimly lit wall, corner and crevice surrounding me in search of a ghost.

     Nothing.

     A puff of air I didn't realize I was holding blows out in front of me.

     No ghosts.

     So far...

     The shrill cry carries through the air again and it's then that I register where it's coming from.

     The other side of the 2nd floor, directly in front of me.

     The west side.

     Where Jaxon lives.

     That infinite and boundless black hole of space lies open and waiting in the ambiguous darkness. It beckons me to come after it and mindlessly, I follow.
Before I know it, I'm face to face with that narrow length of black matter once again. And this time, I venture inside.

     The ghost-like cry leads me to the end of the seemingly limitless hallway and turns a corner. I continue to follow its winding path, down corridor after corridor, it's volume increasing with each step closer to it. I lose track of how many corners I've turned and I feel completely lost, but I keep following that uncanny cry like it's my beacon in the dark. And finally, it guides me to an abrupt halt. A dead end with only one path to take.

     A massive, black marble door at the end of the vacant hall.

     I gape at the door in awe.

     It looks just like every other door in this mansion, but there's something different about it...

     Maybe it's the fact that it towers powerfully at the end of this gigantic hallway, with no accompanying doors or furniture large enough to challenge it's size...
Or maybe it's the fact that it's cracked open slightly and those ghost-like cries are seeping through the open space, prodding me forward...

     That must be Jaxon's room.

     I cock my head to the side in interest and begin to float across the floor like someone walking in their sleep. The dim light trickling into the hallway from the cracked door and the now loud, agonized cries from within are intriguing. I've been sucked into their relentless gravitational torrent and I can't turn away.
My eyes are wide with wonder as I stop inches in front of the enigmatic door and tilt my head, ever so slightly, to peek inside the crack. I gradually reach my hand up to grab the handle and open the door wider, but before my fingers close over the metal knob, a foreboding voice from within makes me startle.

     "No! Please! STOP!"

    Holy crap.

     It sounds like Jaxon's in the darkest and farthest pit of sorrow and grief, wrestling with the fallen angel of utter despair himself. The weight of misery and torment in the air is palpable. A dark, thick and tangible presence seeps through the crack to greet me.

     A satanic presence.

     I shiver with dread.

     He must be having a nightmare.

     Oh, how I want to comfort him...

     I gallantly lift my hand once more to grab the door knob in front of me, but Khleo's words blare through my head like a burglar alarm.

     Don't ever go down there! No one's allowed down there!

     I lower my hand, suddenly terrified of venturing inside...

     What would Jaxon do if I entered?

     I don't know that I want to find out...

     I gotta get out of here.

     Now.

     Jaxon's crying stops abruptly and my whole body freezes with anxiety.

     Did he hear me??

     After a few minutes of distressed silence, straining my ears to listen, I can make out his faint, even breaths. I release a hushed and shaky sigh of relief and get the heck out of there...