Page 30 of When Bones Whisper
She turned left, walking toward the dining room through the maze of interconnected corridors, each taking her deeper into the center of Sallow Manor. The last corridor was narrower than the others, the wall-sconces unlit. Her boot heels echoed against the ancient stone steps carrying her down into the cold, stone passage. This definitely was not the way to the dining room, although she’d sworn she’d gone in the right direction. Her breath fogged in front of her, the dwindling light of her single candle illuminating the dust motes hanging in the air.
Howling winds creaked beyond the walls, the whistles breaking through the eerie quiet along with the trail of her dress rustling as it dragged over cold stone.
Charlotte’s breath caught, the candle almost tumbling from her weak grasp when she spotted a figure draped in tattered white, mostly obscured by the corridor, just beyond the reaches of candlelight. She glanced back toward the way she’d come, but the light at the end of the corridor was gone. Someone had extinguished the lamps in the upper hallways. From somewherebehind her, a drawn-out breath reverberated, and the temperature dropped, raising the hairs on her arms and neck.
With a roll of her shoulders, she suppressed a shiver, and swallowed thickly, her mouth dry. Her eyes focused on the darkness ahead, and the flickering of the candle that danced with every gust of air.
“Don’t go out,” Charlotte begged the candle, her hand shaking as she white-knuckled the handle and took a hesitant step forward, away from the ungodly sounds happening behind her. Determined not to look back, to acknowledge whatever was following her, she kept moving, her pace quickening despite her joints protesting against the sudden increase in speed.
With every step, the walls tightened around her. The rough stone brushed her forearms, her dry gasps echoing around her as the candlelight dwindled until it was nothing but a small, blue flame.
The scent of mildew and lilies hung in the air, the musky fragrance turning her stomach. The corridor twisted deeper into darkness, and as she descended the tiny, stone steps, her foot met the hard, icy edge, toppling her off balance.
She gripped the wall, her heart pounding in her chest as the ground beneath her feet disappeared for a moment. A spike of energy pushed through her body as she gasped in deep lungfuls of air and regained her balance.
The muscles in her legs tightened and twitched, a tremor flickering the muscles under her right eye. She needed to get back to her bedroom, or the library, anywhere but the creepy corridor that didn’t even feel like it was a part of the house anymore.
Cold tendrils grazed her arm. She whipped her head back to look over her shoulder and screamed when she saw the semi-translucent figure of a young woman standing before her, with blacked-out eyes and long, dark hair hanging around her face like curtains. Dried blood crusted around the puncture marks on the woman’s pale throat, her tattered, white dress stained with crimson.
The figure, its form barely visible in the dim, yellow light, hovered over her, arms outstretched. Charlotte spun, nearly losing her balance, and the candle toppled from her grip, clanking down several steps and plunging her into darkness.
In the unending darkness, Charlotte felt for the stone, her frantic climb up the stairs guided by her fingertips. Her heart pounded and each shallow breath scraped her throat.
As she raced out, ignoring the pain searing through her calves, the ghost’s face, with its dark, empty eyes, burrowed deep into her mind.
Panting, she stumbled, her foot catching the edge of a step, and her knees met the ground with a thud. With a groan, she pushed herself up, crawling forward while the heavy, rhythmic pounding of footsteps grew louder behind her.
Robbed of her sight, she tried to focus on the feel of each step to navigate her way out, but the footsteps and ragged breaths were getting louder, faster, and while she moved as quickly as she could, the spirit was faster.
Meow.
Charlotte jumped, uncertain if she had imagined the sound, when a second, louder meow drifted down the hallway. A glimmer of light flickered ahead, illuminating the entrance to the corridor and Duke was sitting at the top, hissing as if warning her to hurry.
Icy fingers curled around her ankle, forcing another, louder scream from her throat. She was so close to the light of the upper corridor, and Duke, who was crouched close to the ground, had his yellow eyes fixated on the space behind her.
She fell out into the open space of the corridor, tears pricking her eyes as she sucked in a deep breath and kicked her way up the plush carpet, her back sliding against the floor.
Footsteps pounded from the staircase to where she was, and in seconds, Nathaniel was standing over her, worry etched into every line creasing around his eyes. “What happened?”
He turned his head when she pointed at the door to the passageway, but when she looked over, it was gone.
“There was a corridor,” she spluttered.
Nathaniel pushed against the wall. He didn’t say anything, but his brows deepened, wrinkles forming around his eyes.
She climbed to her feet, pointing at the wall. “It was right there. I’m telling you.”
“It’s been a long and tiring week.”
“I’m not insane. I saw a ghost, a woman. She had—”
Meow.
Her heart leaped when she looked at Duke, forgetting for a moment about what had happened. He nudged against her ankles, his nose still wet from the rain. “Hello old friend.” She leaned overand scooped him into her arms. Resting her cheek against his rain-stricken fur, she closed her eyes, breathing in his scent. “I’ve missed you.”
Loud purrs vibrated against her chest, and she hugged him tighter. His claws curled into the fabric of her dress when she moved to put him down.
She looked at Nathaniel, who swept his fingers through his rain-soaked locks.
