House of a Thousand Rooms

Chapter 2

Cora dreamt of her parents that very night. She was back in her aunts' parlor again, except amidst this reality there was absolutely nothing in the room. Not even a speck of dust or a spider's web.

Someone started screaming inside the broom closet.

Cora's heart lurched as her eyes shot towards the crimson door. It swung open. Her parents stood on the other side. Their hands stretched towards her, straining and clawing to reach beyond the doorway, but an unseen barrier seemed to be holding them back. Cora desperately wanted to go to them, but she was frozen in place as well. Her muscles felt as rigid and cold as ice.

She gazed upon her parents with wide frightened eyes.

Her father's mouth was moving rapidly, but not a single word or sound tumbled out. Tears were trailing down her mother's face. Both of them appeared to be so lifelike as they stood before her. Cora could see every detail on her father's perfectly tailored gray wool suit. His midnight-black hair was glossy and parted handsomely to the side. Her mother was even more lovely than Cora remembered in her deep burgundy lace and silk gown. Angelic white-blonde curls flowed down her shoulders. There was something not quite right about their eyes, though, something very wrong indeed.

Their eyes looked positively feline.

In a flash, her mother and father disappeared. Cora cried out for them, but her shrieks were muffled inside her throat. She tried to break free from the icy grip that was still locking her in place. Her heart thudded heavily in her chest. The walls and floorboards in the parlor warped and swayed. The old upright piano reappeared. The book of sonatas reappeared. A strange feather-like feeling trickled across her skin. Cora glanced down. She was wearing the white nightgown. She glanced back up.

A very old ebony-stained grandfather clock appeared. Cora had never seen anything quite like it before. Both of its ornately carved hands were positioned at twelve o' clock. Not a minute earlier. Not a minute later. Exactly at midnight.

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Cora's eyes fluttered open. Morning light streamed into her room. Her skin felt cool and clammy. Her heart was still racing, but her nerves were finally calming down. She released a soft, shaky sigh. It was only a dream. Only a dream.

Cora looked around for her aunts' cats. They always slept at the foot of her bed, but at the moment they were nowhere to be found.

"Luna? Noctis?" Cora called out. "Come out, you sleepyheads! Where are you two furballs hiding?"

The house was unexpectedly quiet. Her aunts were both early risers and tended to be very noisy about it. The two of them should have been banging around downstairs by now.

Cora pouted and rolled out of bed. What in the world was going on with everyone today?

After she washed up and changed out of her nightgown into a blue gingham day dress, Cora padded downstairs in search of Aunt Mathilde, Aunt Amelia, Luna, and Noctis.

Once she made it to the first floor, Cora was shocked to find ruddy-faced Mrs. Fielding, the cook, to be the only one in the kitchen.

"Where are my aunts?" Cora asked.

"Don't know, Miss," replied Mrs. Fielding. "I'm just as surprised as you are. I haven't seen them all morning."

"Is that so? I hope they haven't fallen ill," Cora murmured. "Let me go check on them."

Without waiting for Mrs. Fielding to respond, Cora raced back up the stairs. She rushed down the hallway to the small bedroom that her aunts shared. She opened their door only to find two empty beds, neatly made, without a trace of their mistresses anywhere.

Cora's heart began to pound again. There was something not quite right going on. She could feel it in her bones. Something was very wrong indeed.

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AUTHOR'S NOTE: This chapter is dedicated to decopunknoir for always hyping me and being such a lovely writing buddy. Be sure to check out her story, "A Wicked Most Wicked Game," if you're into dark noir, badass heroines, and crazy good world building.