Color Me Red (A Vampire Romance)

8

For her first expedition, she chose the spiraling staircase on the grand room's left and it led to another receiving area with different doors. Gabbi chose the second door at random, though half of her brain told her to twist its knob open on instinct. Deja vu, as people who believe in twilight and abstract laws of nature, would describe it. But Gabbi was used to it. Vampires exist along with other obscurities; deja vu is just a mere flicker to life's mysteries to be bothered.

The first thing she had to do was crane her neck on the high ceiling to search for the cloaked figures lurking within its complicated structure. There was only one, and Gabbi had to squint to clearly conclude the pair of glowing eyes peering behind the ceiling's wooden arc, past the dead chandelier, was what she thought. A tingle of fear coiled on her nape, but she nodded instead. Soon, her uneasiness has been forgotten as she marveled at the shelves of books lined on the wall, with movable ladders each. Marcus himself had told her in passing that she can explore the manor as long as they were unlocked.

The room was primarily of dark wood, some carved on the walls. She had seen pictures of the world's most beautiful libraries from the farmer's daughter who dreamed of entering a prestigious university. It was just two days before the barn burned down with only Gabbi as a survivor and was outcasted by the town to be a harbinger of death.

She shook off the memory. That girl was neither her friend nor would be one if she survived. She was just simply boasting to Gabbi that she would leave the backwater town while Gabbi would be forever slaving away because she was taken in by the family's 'good graces' after her parents died.

But that girl, she remembered, Jane, would probably die again, of envy this time, looking at the majestic book palace. It was not as wide as the majority on the list she had seen, but Gabbi was confident to say it was as beautiful. And she was fortunate enough to dwell in it.

The room smelled like old pages, a new sensation, enough to entice further explorations. She fumbled across to leave the curtain open, but it wasn't enough. More or less, the light has given a sense of abandonment. Sad, to simply put it. Yet, Gabbi began her hunt for a read. When she found an exciting title, she walked closer to the window to read the first few pages to judge. But just in her first paragraph, a light enveloped the room. She looked up and was temporarily blinded by the chandelier given life. Its splinters exploded like daylight, fragmented glow on some parts, but not dizzying.

There was movement at the corner of her eye, then to bookshelves until it was swallowed by the room's unlighted structures. Gabbi followed the figure's trail, starting from the switch that she had missed earlier, beside the door.

"Thank you," she said to no one, but looking past the crown of bejeweled light on the ceiling.

Three days passed since then, and she claimed temporary residence in the library, and the chandelier, of oddly shaped crystals, has never died to light the pages. She does feel someone watching over her and is in the middle of conquering the uncomfortable knot in her gut. And so, to appease her mind and those people in the shadows, she would look up every time she entered the library and dip her head in recognition of their presence. Then she'd trail her hands in the binds of the books for a new read. In response, there were whispers too faint for her ears to understand. But on the third day, they were nowhere, not a single one. Yet, the fireplace has been lit since the second day, like the chandelier, as if they never died for her convenience.

She said her thanks despite being alone and resumed her renewed hunt for the next book. She thought there were other interesting rooms to discover in her theory, but they have to wait for now.

Discover. She thought of the word as if she wanted to learn and live. More. It must be the restlessness, her eagerness to die. It must be. There's no other reason. She walked to the nearest shelf and picked the closest book. The grey hardbound had a silver embossed print.