Trek to Dystrovia

60 9 4
                                    

A short story
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My sister and I have been driving for almost five hours without sightings of anyone. Ophelia went behind my back and bid for a house at an auction after we planned to do it together, but I wasn't complaining too much since according to her, the house is flawless, cheap even.

We turned from the highway onto an old, dark dirt road. The only light guiding us was those from our truck which seemed as tired as me.

"I feel like the flesh on my ass melted away Ophe," I complain for the trillionth time while rubbing my butt.

"Relax and stop whining you, big baby," She scolds, annoyed. "We're almost there, it's just up the road," She continues, settling her eyes back on the road. I hissed, turning to look out the window, or at least, I attempted to. My reflection greeted me and I chuckle lowly.

"You said that two hours ago," I grumble to myself, "But whatever, don't mind me."

The car suddenly came to a halt and Ophelia caressed my bare shoulder with a stinging slap.

"Ouch!" I yelp rubbing the spot, "That hurt, you bitch."

"Yeah. That's for complaining the entire journey," She laughs atrociously, "And this," She pulls me into a lung-crushing hug, "Is because we're here!" She screams in excitement. Pulling away from me, she steps out of the car.

"Oh, my God! My eardrums." I too stepped out of the car. In front of us stood a house made from wood, old stones, and glass, which I assume was recently updated. A paved front yard leads us onto a wooded porch and in front of double European doors. The doors are armored with iron wands at each side and an iron pentacle in the center that parted in half upon opening.

"Sis I told you it was gorgeous," Ophelia chimes, dashing into the void of what I thought to be the living room.

"Yeah, it's beautiful," I agree, following her. I smile at our reflection in a mirror that hung on the wall opposite the door. Although we were twins, Ophelia was a replica of our mom, with straight dirty blonde hair and pearly white teeth. I, on the other hand, looked much like our dad, with brownish hair and a straight nose.

Ophelia switches the lights on revealing a baronial living space. It models mahogany walls and black furniture. White floors round off the dark theme that stretched across the entire house. "It's not a fixer-upper like we planned, but I appreciate it." The house is accessorized with many old items that Ophelia preferred to call, vintage. "How old is this place anyway?" I wandered into one of the two bedrooms.

"Three hundred years old," Ophelia shouts from the opposite side of the hall, "Seriously, it doesn't matter. It's beautiful and cheap, plus we won't have Mrs. Desard sneaking into our kitchen to steal food."

"When you put it like that it's perfect." I chuckle in agreement.

My sister poses in my doorway with one hand against the frame and spoke, "You can check out the place but I'm going to get my beauty sleep." She winks and twirls her hair onto her finger before her slim figure disappears around the corner for her room.

My bedroom is comfortable, clean, and well organized. Beforehand, Ophelia accompanied a set of movers with all of our belongings so all that's left is for us to settle in. Cringing at the scent of my day-old clothes, I decide to shower and sleep.

The sound of a door opening and closing drive me out of repose. I perk up and glance around the room confused. It sounded like a door in my bedroom, but that's weird considering the bathroom doesn't have a door. I shrug at the thought that it is only Ophelia being an early bird as usual and turn back into the softness of my pillows. Once more, I am alarmed by the opening and closing of a door, only this time it slams so hard I felt the bed shake with me. It is now, I conclude the noise is in my room. Confusion picked at my brain as I sat up in the middle of my bed scratching the back of my head and roaming the room with my eyes. The knocking continues, louder and I leap from the bed causing the blue sheets to haul behind me.

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