The House

Chapter 48 - Day 5: Let There Be Light

"Belle."

There are hands all over me in the darkness, and, panicking, I swat at them, turning away from the man spasming on the end of a rope above me, visible only when lightning paints the night in slashes of silver light.

"Belle."

Am I Mirabelle? Am I hearing Hugolin's voice? Is he trying to save me?

"Belle, don't move." The hands touching me are firm, but they're not hurting me; their fingers are running over my neck and my shoulders as though they're searching for something. What are they searching for?

"Hugolin?" I croak, relaxing into his touch, terrified of the fingers turning cruel again and belonging to the man who dragged me and not to David's great-grandfather. No, Hugolin speaks French, and his voice is coarse and broken, not warm and silky, even when edged with tension as the one speaking to me from the dark.

"Luna, it's me; please don't move; let me see how badly you're injured."

"David?" My heart leaps in my chest, relief washing over me in beautiful waves, my mind clearing of the gathering demons. "David!"

"Yes, it's me, David."

I turn my head towards the sound of his voice, but all I see are shadows and darkness.

"Work, dammit," he grunts. I can hear him shaking and slapping something, and then I'm flinching away from a harsh light shining in my eyes. "Sorry," David mutters, turning the flashlight to shine it down my body instead, and when my eyes finally clear, I can see his shadowy face while he looks me over, his brows drawn together in concern. And a sob of joy breaks from my chest.

"Don't move, Honey," he says when I try to sit up. "You've taken a bad fall; let's first see how severely you're injured." I obediently lie still, waiting for him to run his hands over my arms and legs, feeling for broken bones. "I'm sorry I took so long to come. I heard the crash, but there... some... I couldn't get my bedroom door open. Where does it hurt?"

"I didn't f-fall," I stutter hoarsely, my throat hurting from all the screaming I'd done. "He knocked me down and dragged me..." I choke on the panic rising from my core, numbing my extremities. My eyes dart around, searching the dancing shadows in the area of the balcony for the spectral people I'd seen hanging the man.

"Who dragged you?!" David gasps in shock, turning on his haunches, flashing the light around, searching for looming threats.

"Him," I whisper, raising my hand to point at the general area above my head, and frowning, David lifts the light and follows my gaze. All I can see now are the outlines of the thick beams among the shadows quivering in the faltering light of the flashlight. David is shaking, unable to keep his hand steady and when he turns his head to look at me, I can see that he is distraught.

"They hung him..."

"They? What?" he is still chasing the shadows with his light, his silhouette ghostly in what it catches of the glow.

"The others, they bound him and hung him from there."

My words make no sense. I know that, but everything I experienced until David found me is still vivid and frighteningly real in my mind. I did not dream it. I wasn't sleepwalking. Nothing about it was whimsical and watery, the way saving Hugolin from the sea had been. It's not just a lingering memory I experienced in a dreamy state. But it makes no sense. 

Keep the fear down, don't give in to it. Don't give in, stay calm.

"Where does it hurt?" David repeats his question. He is not telling me I'm crazy or lying or anything that would be logical to think about me at the moment, but his jaw is clenched, and I do not miss the uneasy looks he keeps on darting around us.