The Forbidden Room

The Secret

Clarence.

I'm not sure if I say his name aloud, but my heart is pounding and I'm running towards him, wishing him alive, wishing him conscious. I forget how he scared and angered me earlier, and all I can think about is that moment yesterday when he agreed to marry me and to release me from Aunt Mae's clutches.

I reach him and bend down to grasp his wrist, but my hand meets only air. My mouth gaping, I watch his insubstantial body disappear like steam before my eyes.

I lift up my gaze toward the open room and freeze in my spot. An odd black shape is hovering above the stained floor.

I face the figure, my mind blank with panic. The wind is howling outside again but I make out the sound of voices carried across the distance by the storm. At first I don't understand the words, but after a while I start to recognise urgency in the hundreds of voices that blend together. It's a howling and a whisper, a cry and a question, a moaning and a word.

See...

It fills the corridor, deafens me and mesmerises me. I can't help but walk into the room, my eyes attached to the dark silhouette. I am so enthralled by the vision I barely register the door slamming shut behind me.

I see....

As I walk towards the figure, sunlight reaches me through the window and I turn to face it. Slow and quiet, the window opens on its own accord and I find myself bathed in warm sunshine.

Do you see?...

Before me a wide plain opens up, its tall grass green and its road a ribbon of red dust. I smile, my nostrils filled with the smell of a summer day.

Do you see?...

"I see," I whisper, "nothing but a cloud of dust in the sun, and the green grass..."

I step closer to the open window and lean toward the opening. The landscape outside calls to me, inviting whispers and tempting promises. All I want is to walk in this field, my hands brushing the blades of grass and my lungs filled with the summer air. I want to run amidst this beautiful meadow and let sunshine warm my skin. I rest my palms on the windowsill.

For a heartbeat, I'm standing in a dark, blood-stained room.

When the sunbathed landscape reappears in front of me, my heart races. Gentle whispers call me outside, but doubt creeps up the back of my mind and tugs at my heart. The edge of a memory. A quiet warning. With effort, I close my eyes and shake my head. My fingers grip the windowsill, its wood hard and rough against my skin. I let go, and knock a hard object onto the floor. It hits the carpet with a dull thud, snapping my attention back to the bedroom.

The African figurine displayed by the window now rests at my feet. I grab it and a screech resonates behind him, sending a chill down my spine. The dark figure I glimpsed earlier is still hovering above the stained floor, a silhouette made of midst and shadows without clear shape or solidity. My grip tightens around the figurine, and the figure shrieks again.

"Amelia!"

My husband's voice. Pounding on the door.

"Yes!" I reply, my tone unsteady.

I remain frozen in my spot, facing the creature, afraid of what a wrong move on my part might unleash. I need to reach the door, but it must be locked, or my husband would have let himself in already.

"Amelia!"

Clarence's voice is closer to a roar, now, and the door rattles on its hinges. My gestures slow and deliberate, I settle the statuette on the windowsill. The silhouette shudders and hisses as I move, as if it doesn't like me fiddling with it. My gaze fixed on the hovering figure and my heartbeat hammering, I take a step away from the figurine, then another. If I can reach the door, I shall be safe – at least, I pray I will. As I edge my way towards the exit, the ghostly apparition remains in its spot, the shadows pulsing and swirling, taking on the vague shape of a human-like creature then dissolving into an unidentifiable mass again. I keep my eyes on it, on alert for any change in its behaviour, until I reach the door.

Just as my hand closes on the doorknob, the figure shrieks again and flings itself forward. I throw one arm up as I turn the knob, and tumble into the corridor. I crash into someone and shouts erupt around me, while a deafening screech rises at my back. The door slams behind me, so violently the whole house shakes on its foundation.

Then silence falls.

My heartbeat still thrashing, I take stock of my surroundings. A couple of steps away, Sam is holding a candlestick, panting and bewildered. My husband, a revolver in hand, is the one I crashed into during my escape. Both of them are barefoot, half-dressed and dishevelled.

My gaze returns to the forbidden room's door, which now stands closed and inconspicuous. My breath slows as the threat recedes, until I find my voice again.

"What on earth is happening here?"

***

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And let me know what you think Amelia should do now...