Page 45 of Something Cryptid This Way Comes
Bram grabs my sleeve.
The mist continues rising. Another crack and flash of lightning, and the man appears in a different spot. The sound of rain overtakes the music. Lights cast swirling patterns in the mist, obscuring the floor. Hanging, swaying mirrors disorient us, and the man keeps popping up, everywhere we turn, startling us with every bolt that lights the room.
We stumble out of the fog and into the last room. Dramatic organ music plays from a hidden speaker. The six-foot skeleton who shared my office for a day is seated behind his own desk. A candelabra with flickering red lights sits atop it beside a line of hardback novels.
Two of the other skeletons are here too. One sits in an old-fashioned rocker, and the other is in the lotus position on ayoga mat in the corner. Jo liked the idea of the skeleton doing yoga.
Bram approaches the desk and one of the books slides forward. His head whips in its direction. “That just moved on its own.”
With a creak, the rocking chair tips forward, then back, forward, then back, in controlled small movements. Like the skeleton is actually rocking it.
When Bram walks in front of the yoga skeleton, it turns its head and red lights flash in its eye sockets.
A knock sounds from inside the wardrobe.
He looks at me. “Am I supposed to open that door?”
I try for an innocent smile. “Why don’t you walk toward it and see what happens?”
Shaking his head, he grabs my hand, linking us together. “Not without you.”
With slow footsteps, we get closer to the ornate piece of furniture. The wardrobe’s doors click open, then swing wider and wider, and the third skeleton looms out with hands outstretched, backlit by deep red.
Bram smiles. “Okay, that’s fun. Kind of tame compared to the other rooms?—”
The lights go out, leaving us in total darkness. The music quits.
“Trev,” Bram’s voice is close to me, though I can’t see him. His hand tightens around mine. “Is this part of it, or did we lose power?”
I wait. Three, two, one…
A flash of red lights the room. The strobe light’s erratic pattern matches the music which returns full-force, at a louder volume. Other items on the desk, shelves, and walls light up thanks to blacklight paint. And the six-foot skeleton slowly rolls his chair away from the desk.
The door behind him opens, revealing a darkened room with an illusion of various tunnels on the walls.
Bram raises his brows at it, then me. “Let me guess, we’re going in there.”
“Of course, we are.” I tug on his hand. “Let’s go.”
We slip past the skeleton, which sets off cackling laughter that makes Bram jump, and step into the shadows.
The whispered voices attempting to misdirect us begin. “This way,” one breathes, with a rush of cool air.
“Over here,” another teases from the other side.
Cold breezes float around us and more spiderwebs trail over our skin. A current of air pushes against our shins, like the room is trying to keep us inside. Then, a mist filters in, slowly rising.
“Stay,” a breathy voice begs. A touch tickles my hand, thanks to feathery ribbons attached to the air vent.
“Forever…” a wispy, eerie whisper comes from behind us.
Bram jumps and curses, and in the dim misty light, pulls his hand to his chest. I guess the “ghost” touch got him too. “Trev, how do we get out of here?”
I’m still holding his other hand, so I give it a squeeze. “We just have to walk in a straight line. See the blue safety light? We’re going there.”
The warm weight of him leans into my side. “Okay.”
More voices whisper around us and cobwebs cling as we make our way to the door.
