Cutie and the Crazed

~{-I 1 I-}~

The thunder rumbled, and for the first time, Clement was worried.  There had been a light drizzle for a while, but the rain was getting stronger.  He kept walking through the trees, looking for somewhere to seek refuge from the angry clouds.  The rain started pounding on his head, and he knew that he had to find a house soon.  He was getting drenched and would soon be shivering in his wet clothes. 

Up ahead, Clement thought he saw something.  He couldn't quite see right through the thick rain, but at least there was a chance of finding shelter if he headed that way.  Squinting and blinking the water out of his eyes, he made a dash for the porch.  He nearly slipped in the mud before steadying himself and speed-walking towards the house, which grew clearer by the second. 

Clement's chosen shelter creaked and swayed in the rough wind.  It looked like it had once been a great manor but then fallen into disrepair, dark and haunted by the memory of what it once was.  Clement almost reconsidered seeking refuge there, but the rain was relentless and his health was now at stake.  He knocked twice, sharp and quick.  The large door almost immediately opened.  Clement cautiously stepped in, scanning his surroundings for any sign of danger.

The front room was bigger than any parlor he had seen before, many times the size of a normal room.  At the end, he saw the outline of a grand staircase.  Nothing was too clear, as the only dim lighting came from an assortment of candles strewn around on the floor.  Clement had never been proud of his cowardly tendencies, but he almost gave in to the pressure and thought of going right back out into the rain.  He didn't care about his health anymore; he was just suspicious of whoever lived in that horrid mansion that give him chills down his back.

"Welcome," a strong voice said, emanating power.                                                                  

 Clement's head jerked towards the stairs.  His heart was beating faster than that of a deer captured by a lion.  A girl wearing a billowy dress stood at the top.  Light auburn waves framed her face, which was completely covered by a Venetian mask.  She held a candlestick in one hand and stood at the top of the stairs.  The unknown girl came down, striding with a fixed poker face.  Clement backed away.  There was an eerie sense of beauty to her, the way a porcelain doll might look.

"Who are you and why are you here?" she said.

 He cast a glance at the doorknob next to him.

"My name is Clement.  I was looking for shelter, but that's fine.  I'll be going now."

"Shelter?  In my castle?"  She seemed disgusted at the simple thought of it.  "You'd just ruin the carpets with all that mud.  It's a good thing you're leaving then, Mr. Clement."

"Yes, a good thing indeed."

With a semi-polite smile, he backed out of the door and walked out on the porch.  He nearly pulled the door shut behind him before he heard her voice again.

"Yes, I know he wants shelter, but he doesn't need it from me.  No!  He can't possibly be the one to break the spell!  Just look at him.  He looks more like a hoodlum than a spell-breaker."

Clement pushed it open again.  Was she talking to him?  No, she seemed to be talking about him, though he certainly didn't consider himself a hoodlum.  But that wasn't the thing that surprised him most.  The girl had appeared to be talking to no one, which surprised and confused him far more than his description.  As he watched her talk again, Clement realized that she wasn't talking to a person; she was talking to her candle.  Of course, being a candle, it couldn't talk back, but she appeared to be receiving some kind of response from it, considering all of her nods and replies to questions that Clement couldn't hear.

"Fine."  The girl and the candlestick appeared to have reached a consensus.  "I didn't want to take you in, but Lumen insists that I be welcoming."  She shot a glare at the candle.

"You know, actually, I think I'm fine.  The rain sounds lighter; I'll be going now."  Clement was officially freaked out.  The girl might have been going loony, and he didn't want to be stuck with a psychopath for who knows how long. 

"The rain looks incredibly strong at the moment, Mr. Clement.  Are you questioning my hospitality?"  Her tone almost seemed threatening.

"No, no!  Of course not.  If you really think I shouldn't go back out, I suppose I will stay in your lovely company." 

She nodded and began to turn towards the stairs before addressing him.

"You may come upstairs.  If you follow me, I have a room fit for your needs."

One shaky foot after another, Clement followed her up the stairs and down a hallway.  He wasn't quite sure what to think.  The mask was undoubtedly suspicious, and talking to inanimate objects was even more suspicious.  But she seemed to be fairly nice if she was letting him stay in her house and, hopefully, giving him dry clothes.  At the same time, many things about his surroundings frightened him, so Clement decided that he would get away as soon as the rain ended.

"Here."

They stopped at a wooden door.

"There should be clothes in the dresser."

 "Thank you for your generosity."  Realizing he still didn't know something very important, he spoke up again.  "What's your name?"

"Chrissy."  Her voice remained devoid of amity.  "If you are deathly sick and about to die, ring the bell in the corner, so we don't have any rotting carcasses on my nice wooden floors.  Otherwise, don't bother me."

All Clement could manage was a small stunned smile as Chrissy walked away.  Yes, he would certainly have to get away as soon as the rain stopped.