A Horror Anthology

Beastly by - @TheVenn

"Oh, yes, if it isn't a problem—"

"Nothing is ever a problem, Miss Saunders, not when you have people to do the heavy lifting for you," he replies, just as a stocky man enters the garage, dressed in tatty clothes, and starts carrying my luggage into the house without a word. He doesn't nod at me, not even a glance in my direction. "Don't mind him, he's hardly someone to worry about. Now—shall I take you for the grand tour?"

"That would be lovely, thank you." My fingers are itching to hold my camera. Such a spectacular place like this, as intimidating as it is, is sure to be a gold mine of history and beauty.

"Then we shall begin." Lee's lips curve into a thin line, a glimpse of his teeth peeking through, and my heart stutters nervously. Despite my anxiety, though, charm twinkles in the bright green depths of his eyes, discordantly opposing that smile, and I forget all preconceived notions of fear and follow him like a puppy through the palatial house.

"Now, the first two floors are rather expansive, so I'm sure they'll do well for your pictures," Lee says as he whisks me past the giant dining room to the living room, from which a spectacular chandelier hangs with hundreds of crystals reflecting dazzling spectrums across the ceiling in colourful arcs. "However, I will have to ask you to refrain from exploring the third floor, as, well... you could say that it's my private space, and I'd appreciate it if you'd adhere to this one little request."

I beam, almost glowing in excitement as my right leg jitters furiously. "Of course, Mr—I mean Lee," I hastily correct myself, blushing furiously as he smiles at my stumble. "I'm sure my stay here will be a lovely experience."

The smile spreads into a wide grin, revealing a perfect set of dazzling white teeth, apart from, I suddenly notice, a silver canine that has been chiseled to a pointed tip. I barely notice it, but he steals my attention from it with a charming wink. "Then I'm sure we'll get along splendidly."

2. The Playpen

After a mouth-watering four course meal, each course accompanied with countless dishes of soups, sweetmeats and grand roasts placed on the expensive ebony wood dining table, Lysander and I retire to our respective rooms.

The room that has been provided for me has already lent my camera twenty odd pictures, with spectacular views of the setting sun, the brilliant shine of the chandelier as sunlight forms dazzling spectrums as it hits the crystal. The bed is a plush four-poster, with the softest quilts and sheets, and dozens of candles litter the shelves, giving off the most peculiar scent. I cannot quite place my finger on the scent, but it is mesmerising, almost heady. Mr Blackwood certainly has put a lot of effort into putting together this room for my use.

I had eaten only an hour ago, as the sun was beginning its descent, but now, as the sun paints incandescent hues of orange and purple across the sky, I feel as full as ever, and my eyes droop with drowsiness. I should probably get some sleep.

I sluggishly change out of my jeans and shirt—which, looking back, seems so hopelessly out of place in the mansion—and into a silk red robe that is as brilliantly red as the drapes of the house. My vision clouds and dances with fatigue as the scent of the candles waft through my system, and my head barely hits the feather-stuffed pillow before I plunge into the darkness of sleep.

~~

She awakens with a start, eyes wide open but blank as slate. Seeing but unseeing. Her hair is dishevelled, and her robe is twisted awkwardly, the front threatening to open, exposing her pale chest. She stands, and dons her ever-present camera, looping the strap over her neck. The candles are naught but burnt out piles of wax, but its potent smoke hangs around the room in heavy clouds. Their work is done. She grasps the door handle, the metal cool against her palm, and it opens without a sound. Her bare feet soundlessly pad across the hardwood floorboards. She strides with purpose, and yet she is unseeing, unaware of her movements, unconscious.