Page 60 of Brighter Than Gold

Eamon slowly peeked his head inside. His eyes were wider than an owl’s at midnight, and he was visibly shaking. Callan pulled him roughly inside and shut the door.

“What is it?” he demanded.

Eamon could barely look the man in the face.

“I was told to give you this.” He held out a small glass bottle and two cloths.

“What is that?” Callan asked.

“I don’t know sir, she told me—I was told to give you this immediately.” Eamon was on the verge of tears.

“Who is‘she’Eamon?”

“I don’t know sir, truly. She had silver eyes…”

Callan gave the boy a lasting look before he snatched the bottle and cloths from his hand. “Go.” He said opening the door. Eamon scuttled quickly out.

“What’s happening?” I asked, terror tinging my voice.

Callan uncorked the bottle and smelled the clear liquid inside, then he tipped the bottle over a finger and tasted it.

“Fuck!” He spat the horrid taste from his mouth.

“What is it?”

“I have no fucking idea.”

Somewhere outside of the room there was a loud thud, followed by a shrill scream.

“Get away from the door, Reyah,” Callan commanded. I rushed to the opposite side of the room, my body immediately beginning to tremble as the adrenaline shot through my veins.

I watched as Callan opened the door and glanced outside. There was more yelling, hollering and heavy banging noises. The sounds terrified me. “What’s going on?”

“I don’t know, it’s coming from the kitchen…”

Suddenly, Callan retreated back into the room as a kitchen attendant rushed past the door screaming.

I heard the thud of the man’s body hit the floor. Callan’s face whipped right and left; it seemed he couldn’t make sense of what was happening. What had the man been running from?

Then his whole body stiffened.

“What is it? What do you see?” I begged.

“It’s smoke…”

Callan jumped back and closed the door. “Get me the bed sheets, now!”

I raced to the bed and pulled the heavy covers off. As I brought it to Callan, I saw what he had seen. Smoke, thick, black, curling smoke seeping in under the door.

“Is there a fire?” I asked as I helped him seal the bottom of the door with the blankets. It didn’t smell like anything was burning…

We both stared at the blanket shoved crudely against the door, and waited.

“Fuck.” Callan stamped the blanket down harder as the fumes began to seep through. It wasn’t any use; the smoke was permeating through the side of the door now. He backed away from the door and stood next to me.

The thick black air snaked in as though it were sentient, curling and moving like a worm in soil. The tendrils expanded and shifted, split and searched about the room. Like a looming black shadow, it poured in through the edges of the door, pooling and covering the ground like a dark flood.

“Callan…” I said nervously, as I watched the smoke rising up my legs.

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