You find yourself on a quiet, dark residential street. It’s late at night, and though you can hear the sounds of the city only a few streets away, everything here is still. You call out, but no one answers. You try to reach the main thoroughfare, but it seems farther and farther away as you rush towards it. Dismayed, you turn back. Small, quaint old gable homes are set on either side of you. All windows have been darkened, but for one. As you walk up to the small house, you can see an old, gnarled tree looming a hundred feet over you, the house, and the rest of the street, dwarfing everything in its vastness. This tree doesn’t seem like it _ought_ to be able to grow so high and so imposing given the space it’s been allowed, but there it is, its bark dark as coal, purple wisteria swaying from its branches in the breeze.
You steel yourself, and walk up the cobblestone path. Under the moonlight - was it supposed to be a full moon tonight? - the grass around the path looks purple, and undulating. Surely, that’s simply fallen wisteria. You step up to the door. The door, too, looks purple, and has a line of fine gold writing just below the stained glass pane that takes up the top half of the door. It’s too dark to read.
“Yes, darling?” a voice answers, from … inside? It’s difficult to say. It must be inside. There is no one out here with you.
“Uh. I think I’m… uh… lost?” you offer uncertainly.
“Oh, please, come in and we’ll see what we can do, won’t we?” the voice invites.
You turn the golden coloured knob, and push open the door. The inside is lit by a warm orange glow. In your trepidation, you don’t look down at the door as you enter. If you had, you would’ve seen what the lovely gold cursive script said.
You walk a few feet down the narrow hallway and poke your head into an archway, looking for the source of the voice, but you see no one. The room is filled to the brim with bookshelves, and books crammed into each one. In the middle, there is a stone fountain, with odd pieces of glass hanging over it. There is no liquid in the fountain, but tallow candles dot the rim of the bowl, throwing flickering light through the fractures hanging-glass, painting the shelves with all sorts of colours.
You see another archway, and approach. You stand in the arch and stare at the large hourglass in the center of the small room, as tall as you. It emits a purple glow that seems to penetrate every corner of the room, but you notice something odd. Not all of the sand is yet at the bottom of the hourglass, but no more sand is flowing. It seems… paused. You look around at the purple-lit room, and see timepieces in various states of having been dismantled. Curious, you reach a hand towards the large hourglass, and jolt as the hourglass seems to try to meet you, to stick to you, like a particularly insistent sea anemone. You yowl out of surprise and quickly back out into the hallway.
You shout again, as something brushes against your leg. You’re answered by an unimpressed meow.
“Don’t worry about that silly furball. I’m in here,” the voice beckons.
You follow the voice through the hallway, taking a turn to the right. The orange glow is dimmer now, only just lighting your way. You find yourself at the end of the hall, in front of a solarium, lit by nothing but starlight. You look up through the glass and see hundreds of thousands of stars, far more than you should see in the city. You look down, and see a sheer cliff. You gasp and stumble back. Wasn’t there another house back there?
A girl sits in a rocking chair, regarding you, petting a purring cat in her lap. Her black hair shines in the starlight. She tilts her head, and asks, “You said you were lost?”
Your mouth starts and stops a few times. “I… I mean… I think… I guess so?”
She nods. “What was the last thing you remember?” she asks.
“Er… I was walking up the street and I can’t seem to find the main road,” you furrow your brows. What an odd question.
She leans forward, just a little, and presses, “But what do you remember before THAT?”
“Think. Think hard.” Her voice has changed. There’s an edge to it now. You swallow.
“I remember… it was really hot… and… dry? I…”
You do. Huh. Well, this is quite an outfit. You’re wearing a paisley vest with nothing under it, six or seven gauzy scarves, and a diaphanous… skirt? sarong? balloon pants? that shimmer in the starlight. Your feet are bare, and now that you think about it, you feel grit and dust on your soles.
“I remember… sand. Sand! I was camping in the desert! How did I get here?” Your eyes widen and you look around frantically now, finally taking in the rest of the room. It’s filled with… basins? Numerous pedestals, with basins on each. Clay, bronze, pewter, porcelain, stone, all shapes and sizes. You look again at the stars above, and don’t recognise them. You look at the cliff below, and see nothing below them. You turn wide eyes to the girl as she shoos the cat off her lap and stands.
“That doesn’t matter, darling. You’re here now. Don’t you want to stay?” She smiled, just an upturn of the lips, but somehow, you’re seeing all teeth.
“I don’t… Uh… I don’t think that’s a great idea I should probably get back yeah I mean–” you ramble.
She laughs. “Oh, that’s alright, I can send you back, but I want something.” The smile is sweet, and terrifying.
“O…kay. I don’t have a lot on me,” you gesture vaguely at your state of dress, “Is there something I can do for you?”
“Um, I guess, sure, I mean I definitely hope I can go home.”
She smiles again, all light and darkness. “Good,” she says shortly, as an unseen force grabs you by the back of your neck, you panick. This must be the end. You’ve screwed up for good this time.
You’re shoved toward one of the basins, held in place by this immovable force. Your face is angled down, looking right into the basin. It’s sandstone, about the size of a dinner platter, round, and there’s half a disc shape inscribed into the bottom. You watch as it fills with liquid without source. The force shoves you down and down, until your entire body is immersed in the liquid.
You struggle and struggle and despair. And then you pull yourself up, waking to stars and sand.
#week five #secret lair #cinphoria
tangentwithtanner
prguitarman
origamiaround
dailybridgerton
areudirty
jbbartram-illu
pixelskylines
andulkaphoto
