Slayers: Book One

What the Slay? (2)

I turned on my side, breathing in the soft cotton sheets of my bed and crinkled my nose when the smell was unfamiliar. Desperately, I tried to hold onto my last moments of blissful sleep but was rudely awakened when the door was slammed open. I prepared to go into my usual morning rant, thinking it was my kid brother. All of a sudden, my head was swarmed with memories.

Sitting up, shocked and scared from the sudden intrusion, I was finally able to take in my surroundings. The room was white, with two twin beds and two bedside tables. there were two small wardrobes at the end of each bed and the one next to me was messily made with white sheets and colorful pillows. The walls on the opposite side of the room with the messily made bed were covered in pictures, posters, and drawings, while the side I was on was plain and dull.

My gaze fell to the small figure standing in the doorway with arms crossed. The little girl with bright red hair I saw at school walked in with a giddy smile on her face. "Good, you're awake." She tossed me some clothes that were in her hand and I caught them effortlessly. She turned around to walk back out the door before looking over her shoulder at me.

"Be downstairs in ten minutes." With that she walked back down the hall, pulling the door shut behind her. I was frozen in place for a few moments, wondering where the hell I was. I did what the girl said and pulled my shoes on. The clothes I wore yesterday were tucked under my arm and I put them into my backpack, sitting at the end of my bed on top of the wardrobe. I glanced around, not seeing anything else that was mine.

With a little jolt, I realized I had gotten ready without so much as a wince. I took a look at my wrist, wondering why I felt no pain. When I pulled back my sleeve, all that remained was a bright puckered red pentagram, similar to a scar. I made a face and decided it was better left alone. I pulled my sleeve back down and reached for my bag.

Fear had permanently made it's way into my stomach. I was so confused, and felt as if I was about to burst with questions. I knew if I wanted my answers I would need to walk out that door and face whatever was in front of me. But the coward in me wanted to tie up the sheets I had just slept on, jump out the window and repel down the side of the building. I opted for the most logical reason-I swung the bag over my shoulder and made my way out the door.

I passed nine rooms on my trek down the hall. Some doors were open and others were closed. There were impeccably clean rooms and rooms that looked as if they had their own personal tornadoes-my hunch was that the tornadoes were whomever lived there. I walked around the corner to see a huge staircase that led down into the main foyer. I could hear whispering and low murmurs in the room to my left at the bottom of the steps and my curiosity peaked.

Before making my way down, I took a good look around. I stood at the top of the stairs, a gray carpet beneath my feet and across from large bay windows that jutted out above two tall french doors-the front doors I guessed. There were two large arches on either side of the hallway, leading to other rooms and different places of the building. The floor was marble and shiny, like it had recently been waxed. The room was flooded with light and I could have almost imagined living there, if not for the circumstances. Below me, there was a shout in the room to the left of the stairs, I could see legs and shadows, but no faces. It looked to be a full house. I had decided that if I wanted my answers, this is where I would get them.

Stepping as lightly as I could down the stairs, I slid my back against the banister wall to listen to the conversation in the room. I was careful not to let my backpack scrape against the wall and to slowly make my way down the carpeted stairway. The last thing I wanted to do was let someone know I was here.

"She's one of us." A deep voice said. I recognized it and matched it to the face of the guy that saved me from that man the night before. Allan, was his name I think. I wasn't sure I could forget his face after such a traumatic event.