Chapter 5

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"Are we there yet?" she asked for the millionth time.

Jasmine had been following Eluard for what felt like hours. Her watch stopped working so she did not know if it had been mere minutes or three hours.

Eluard came to a halt in front of a small dilapidated house which was guarded by only a wire fence. Jasmine looked at it skeptically as Eluard picked at the lock of the gate. With some effort it opened with a loud creak and he walked into the neglected yard.

"Please don't tell me you live here." Jasmine frowned as she walked through the gate with Tabitha in riding her pocket.

Eluard kicked the front door down effortlessly and the two entered the dusty house. The house had obviously been uninhabited for a very long time. Dust clung to the old furniture and cobwebs hung from the ceiling. Jasmine could have sworn she heard the sound of mice scampering across the floor.

"Me, live here?" scoffed Eluard, "no, I don't live here. No, this is not where I'm taking you. Just stopping to pick some stuff up before we get to the real adventure."

Jasmine nodded uncertainly and moved to get a closer look at the painting hanging on the wall above the ash-filled fireplace. The portrait was of a woman sitting in an armchair, clearly done by a professional with decades of experience. She had an intimidating look to her. The black background was a stark contrast to her sharp, pale face. Her almond-shaped eyes looked so real that they sent shivers down Jasmine's spine. She moved closer to get a better view of the painting, the eyes of the woman almost following her every move. Jasmine reached out her finger to touch the canvas and the painting's mouth opened wide as if the lady was screaming. Jasmine gasped and withdrew her hand quickly, stepping away in the process. She looked at the painting again hoping it was all a nasty trick her eyes were playing on her. The lady in the painting sent her a mischievous wink before returning to her previous pose. Jasmine stared at the painting in total astonishment.

She was brought out of her daze by a bundle of clothes hitting her face. She squeaked and looked up to see Eluard standing in front of her wearing a whole new outfit. The bloody shirt replaced with a blue cotton one.

"You look like you've just seen a ghost," he said.

"Maybe I have. What are the clothes for anyways?"

"For you to change into of course," said Eluard as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"Where did you even get these from?" asked Jasmine as she picked the clothes up from the floor. The clothes looked modern, unlike the rest of the house.

Eluard leaned against the wall and sighed.

"Look, I'm not walking into town with you looking like that. I mean, even if your clothes weren't torn and dirty I'd still have you change them. Those shoes? With that shirt? Were you getting dressed blindfolded in the dark or something?"

Jasmine sharply inhaled through her nose before stomping off to find a bathroom. Eluard called after her.

"You might want to fix your hair too! Looks like a rat's nest! Ten minutes and we're leaving!"

Jasmine stuck her head out from behind the door and stuck her tongue out at him. She walked through the dimly lit passage opening and closing doors until she found the bathroom. Surprisingly, the bathroom was neat and clean. There was no trace of dust whatsoever in sight. Jasmine noticed the bottles of shampoo, conditioner and body wash by the bathtub. The room was probably the only one in the house that had been recently used. Eluard most likely. She walked over to the wash basin and set the clothes and her bag down next to it. Her hair was pile of knots and tangles on her head and it needed a wash urgently. She took Tabitha out of her pocket and placed her next to the pile of clothes. Tabitha had gotten a bit bigger over the past day. Not by much though, she was still tiny enough to hold with one hand. Her long fur had darkened too, making her bright blue eyes stand out more. Jasmine pealed the cardigan off her skin and noticed the bruises and small cuts running down her arms. They weren't bad enough to leave any scars but they were still there. She grabbed the cloth hanging from the edge of the sink and began wiping the dirt from her face.

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