Nocturnal [COMPLETED✔️2018]

Chapter Sixteen: Tea Party

I sit at the long, polished oak table that stands in the centre of the dining room at Miller Mansion.

Sunlight beams through the high-arched windows, radiating past the green curtains which drape from an iron rail, and directly into the chandelier which hangs above my head, sending delicate streams of rainbow around the room.

With a smooth, pale hand, I lift a teapot and pour a steady line of tea into a fragile, china teacup that is set out in front of me.

There are many places set at the table, and I wait expectantly for my guests to arrive.

The first comes as soon as the grandfather clock at the door chimes two.

The partly open mahogany doors of the dining room don't move an inch as a black, shadowy cloud eases its way through, diffusing toward me with deadly grace.

I am not scared of this thing as it swims above my head. I raise a hand and gently glide my hand through it as if I were petting a cat. The darkness moves to rest at the very end of the table. It stops itself on top of one of the chairs, but it's lack of body forces it to hover. The only human-like thing about it, are the white, glinting teeth that shine in the sunlight. A drop of blood falls from one of the canines, and onto the crème table cloth.

"You must be more careful," I hiss at the shadow. "I washed that only yesterday. Well what are you waiting for?"

The voice I hear is familiar, but I cannot remember where I have heard it before.

I know that I am no longer in my own body- I am in another dream- but unlike before, I find that I don't try to wake myself up. I don't try to claw myself up to the surface. I don't even care that I am discovering another piece of the past. Although I am not conscious, I am aware of my sleeping body outside of this vision. There is a numbness within it that I have never encountered before, and this newfound act of not caring is something that has now settled itself into my bones.

The scene continues.

The cloud of black makes its way back to me, and then, floating over my teacup, allows a few drops of blood from its mouth to fall into it before returning to it's 'seat'.

Every few minutes, another shadow enters the room, until eventually, the whole room is filled with endless smoke, each thing merging as one.

I feel my hand raising upwards into the air and I feel my mouth open, but I don't get a chance to say a word.

A loud bang comes from the first door, and like a swarm of bees, the blackness moves in a synchronised movement to one end of the dining room.

"Who could that be," I whisper as I slowly pull myself out of my chair.

The banging comes again and in less than a minute, I hear the front door of Miller Mansion open with a loud creak.

I grab a candlestick from the table and creep silently towards the dining room doors. With narrowed eyes, I peek out through the crack between the doors to see whom the intruder is.

Realisation sets over my body- my real body- when I see who has entered Miller Mansion.

Jonah's mother.

The tiny tether keeping my unconscious body aware that I am only dreaming is snipped as whoever I am in the dream steps back.

What is Ronnie doing here? I think. What does she want?

Hiding the candlestick behind my back, I push the doors back to greet the intruder.

"Whatever brings you here, Ronnie?"

My voice causes Ronnie to scream and jump backwards. Her eyes are widened in terror as falls against the living room doors.

"W-What? Why are you here?"

I grin as I walk towards the timid woman, who is shaking like withered flower in the wind.

"Oh, don't be frightened," I say. "I'm just checking up on the house, making sure it's staying to its best standard."

Ronnie's shaking calms down, but there is still a weariness to her that shows me that she is on edge. Her fear is fuelling them, and I continue the conversation, letting them build up their strength.

"Jonathan told me about everything. He told me about the curse."

I laugh. "And you're here to stop it, I presume?"

When she doesn't respond, I know that I have discovered her motive. "You might as well just run on home, Ronnie. There's nothing that can stop this curse."

Ronnie shakes her head. "No," she gulps, still breathless from her fright. "I'm not going to sit back and do nothing about the fact that my son is going to have no life."

"Even if you did manage to find a way to stop this," I scowl. "I wouldn't let you. No one is going to take my monsters away from me. They're the only thing I have."

Confusion flashes in Ronnie's eyes, but I don't explain. Instead, I leap on her, and in one swift movement, I bring the candlestick down to her temple.

Blood trickles from a deep gash, but it was not sufficient enough to render her unconscious.

Good. They need as much fear as possible.

In shock, she doesn't scream. Doesn't move.

I take this as my chance.

I swipe up some of her blood onto my fingers and quickly put them in my mouth. I need to have her blood in my system before they come out. They get confused sometimes, but if I have the blood of the frightened inside me, they cannot touch me. They cannot drink the same blood twice. No, they don't want to drink the same blood twice. Once ones fear is drank, it is useless the second time around.

As if reading my thoughts, a cloud of smoke bursts through the living room doors and immediately swoops towards its next victim.

One personal demon for every unfortunate, depressed, dark soul that has lived in this house in the past. Henry, Monroe, Katherine, David, Arabelle, Damien, my brother Jonathan and of course, me.

They are not picky on who they feed on when they are starving. But, the bodies I have been bringing them haven't been satisfying. Maybe the mother of the next in line for a demon will be enough this time.

I will do anything for them. Anything as long as they don't feed on me. Because once they feed, that's when the madness ensues. And not one person who has lived in this house has gotten away from that madness. No one but Jonathan and I. I'm not going to let it catch us. I'm doing this for him.

I'm sorry Jonathan.

Ronnie is unconscious by the time the shadow pulls away from her.

My body shakes as I grab her legs and begin to drag her body to the basement tunnels. She can't die in the house. She needs to be with the rest.

As I drag her from the front door and to the basement door, I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror.

Ronnie's blood stains the corners of my mouth, and there is a splattered pattern on my cheek from where I struck her with the candlestick.

I take a deep breath as I take in my reflection. I, Julie Frost, am doing this for the good of my family.

There is no time to feel guilt.