What Lies Beneath

Chapter Thirty-Eight: Whispers in the Wind

Greyson watched as Delphine danced ahead of him. He didn't know where she was taking him, but it didn't matter. He knew that he should be worried or afraid, but all he felt was peace. It didn't matter that the girl he was following was colder than ice, or that there were moments when she just seemed to disappear. No, he didn't care about any of that. He only knew that he had an innate desire within him to do so. It was as if she was calling to his soul and beckoning him onward. He had never known love before, but deep down he wondered if his current feelings were what the poets would often write about.

"Why do you keep looking at me like that?" Greyson had been so lost in thought that he hadn't noticed that she'd stopped, or even when she started staring at him with curiosity in her eyes.

"I can't figure you out."

"How do you mean?" As Delphine walked toward him, he could feel his heart begin to flutter from within his chest. He wanted to keep looking at her, but the closer she got, the harder he had to try to keep his eyes focused.

"I mean, you're not like anyone I have ever met before. You're nice and beautiful, but most of all, you treat me like an actual person." Greyson finally looked away as he said these words. He hadn't realized it before, but the reason that he liked her so much was that she was friendly towards him. He had never met anyone who would smile at him before without hate or mischief in their eyes.

"Why would I be mean to you?" The question was so innocent, but so heavy all at the same time. He had never really thought that people needed a reason to be mean to him. He'd always thought that people were always awful at heart.

"I don't know. No one has ever really needed a reason before."

"That's awful. I don't think that I could ever hate anyone for the soul purpose of hate itself." Delphine stretched out her hand and placed it on Greyson's shoulder. "Especially you." Greyson couldn't help but tear up at her words. He had made it a point to never cry. Crying showed weakness, but he didn't feel weak with her. He felt strong. He felt like he could do anything as long as they were together.

"Thank you." The words came out like a whisper, but that didn't matter. The air around them was heavy with their truth.

Agatha had spent a few more moments wandering the property after Gwyneth had returned to the house. Things weren't going the way that she had planned. The guests were roaming about the house without supervision, Delphine had died her first night, and now the house was playing tricks on her.

Everything inside of her wanted to scream and burn the house to the ground. She only brought the kids here because she thought that the house would make her wishes come true. She should have known that when you try to train a snake it bites you more often than not. For years she had planned this and for years she had thought of how she would feel, but never had she imagined that her plans would be foiled by the one detail that she thought she could count on.

Then there was Charlie. He was an obnoxious child who should have stayed in England. She had tried to find a way around inviting him, but the house had been so insistent. If she had thought about it, then she would have realized that it was never her that the house had planned on helping, but instead that insolent little British snot.

It was in that moment, when those exact words crossed her mind that she felt the sharp edge of Charlie's axe sink deep into her chest. Still in shock she looked down to see what had caused her to stop walking so suddenly. She only saw the blade for a moment before it was ripped from her chest and swung again. This time the blade was left protruding through her head.

Agatha felt her legs give out from under her. How could this be? How could she- how could the house have let this happen?