A Cold Dish

Chapter 21 - Birds

The dormitory halls were surprisingly empty for this time of day. Perhaps the gloomy weather led to a preference of staying in their dorms. My theory proved correct as chatter could be heard behind doors when we entered the dormitories. Relief hit me when Anne closed the door behind her. That room was like my safe space, no prying eyes would make their eyes there. Anne lit a few candles, the heat that radiated off of them made me aware of how cold it was.
“Shall I draw up a bath?” she asked and eyed me cautiously.
“No… I just want to sleep,” I sighed.
It was not until I sat down on my bed that I realized how exhausted I was.
“Very well, I will let you rest. Call for me if you need anything.”
“Thank you, Anne.” I managed a small smile.
Anne's worried eyes were the last thing I saw in that hallway before she closed the door. A shaky sigh escaped my lips as I stared down at my dark hands, they were trembling lightly. The sounds of rain hitting the windows dampened the sounds in the hallways. I relaxed my body, letting it be cushioned by the soft mattress. The ceiling seemed to stretch farther than it actually did, as if the whiteness enveloped my senses. I felt numb except for one thing… something was itching inside of me, something was desperately trying to claw its way out. I jolted up and covered my mouth with a pillow before I let out a muffled scream. My eyes stung and my vision was hazy. What am I doing here? An unexpected thought interrupted my cries. Studying… to be a good wife. What else? What else is there for me? I blankly stared at the ceiling. Enough… rest, you are not thinking straight. I nestled into bed, completely wrapped in the feather blanket. In the warm and tight confines of my bed I felt safe. My eyelids felt heavy, drowsiness clung to me, ready to take me away…

A field of green as far as the eye could see appeared before me. There was a gentle breeze that carefully lifted my skirt. Nothing but the vast field existed… nothing but that and a single black feather that lay on the ground. There was something about it that grabbed my attention, something off. Was it the size? Or how the smell of dusty books came from it? The smell of wet walls… the smell of rot. Before I realized I had already picked up the feather. Trees stemmed from the ground and their crowns stretched to block out the sun. My blood went cold as I whipped my head back and forth. Where was I? The only sound that could be heard was my rapid breathing, not a single hint of life was present… except for the feather in my hand. It was rough looking, with a tattered appearance and odd dark stains. Run. The word that echoed in my head was sudden. The voice was not my own, but however hard I tried to recall how it sounded it was to no avail. Was it a feminine voice? A masculine voice? Childish? Mature? Was it even a voice? The sound of a twig being snapped woke me from my confusion. Hiding amongst the trees was a tall and muscular silhouette and it, just like the voice, seemed… so familiar to me. However, its fingers resembled claws, feathers covered its form and when it screamt the jaw was completely dislodged. The horrid sight sprung me into action. Trees whipped past me as I stumbled over roots and stones. Behind me I could hear the thumping of the… thing. Its footsteps were growing louder and louder, its presence loomed over me like birds flocking a carcass. I spared a glance backwards, if only to know how close it was. My eyes met with crystal clear orbs which stared intensely at me, the sound leaving its gaping maw made the trees shake. The longer I looked at it the more unsure I grew… was it human? Or was it something else? A swipe of its claws reminded me that I did not have time to ponder such a question. Just put one foot in front of the other. As I heard it get closer the last place I would consider a sanctuary came into view… that disgustingly familiar mansion.
The halls carried no sound, no light, just the faint smell of something familiar.
"Anne?" My voice echoed up and down the hallways. Once it returned it sounded distorted, not at all like my own voice.
I wandered through the hallways that I knew all too well. A flash of white light filled the rooms. It was then that I noticed that the paintings decorating the hallways did not include me, at least not the me I am now. The me in the paintings was younger and she seemed more lively, a mere child excited about being alive. It seemed so foreign to me… when was that painted? I could not recall. A loud clap could be heard in the distance and then shortly after the pitter patter of rain followed. As I went deeper into the mansion the smell grew stronger, it was similar to the scent the feather carried but much deeper, more pungent. It carried me through the hallways that were so familiar yet off, they were decorated in a way that I had not seen before. I stopped at a somewhat unfamiliar hallway. There was a painting depicting a very young Oscar holding an infant, next to it was a door that oozed of rot. Was there always a door here? Yes, you remember this door. The voice echoed in my head. You have opened this door… then you locked yourself up. For as long as I could remember I had remained in my room when I was not needed… why? My hand reached for the doorknob, whatever the reason for my isolating behavior must lay behind this door.
My hands slowly turned the doorknob only to be stopped midway by a chill that crept down my spine. Heavy footsteps echoed off of the walls as they approached me. Move! My body was frozen still, no matter how much I urged for it to move it did not obey. Warm, rough hands closed around my neck, around my arms. Its' hot breath hovered over my ear and barely a whisper escaped its' lips,
"Let's have some fun, you and I."