Prysmcat's Fantasy

Jake didn’t say much on the way up the back stairs and along the hallway that ran through the servants’ quarters. They went all the way to the very end, and into an oddly-shaped room. It held what was clearly a bed, though without headboard or footboard, just a raised area with bedding on it, and an upright dresser, and a narrow tall basket with laundry in it. That took up pretty much all the floorspace.

Jake gestured to the bed. “Sit.” It sounded more like an invitation than an order. There were three framed paintings on the walls, but he picked up one that was actually on the floor in the corner, behind the laundry hamper. He sat on the bed and braced the painting so Leo could look into it.

It looked like a real-world modern hospital, notable only for being empty, though there was something visible in the mirror over the small sink. What was so difficult about it?

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“These books,” Amerie said, “are a trip, and I mean that in multiple ways. But I think I’m getting dizzy and need a break.”

Sally nodded. “They get a bit heavy after a while. With lots of time, it’s great to just settle down with one and stay in it from cover to cover, so you get the full effect and don’t have the disorientation that builds up from going through them fairly fast. But that doesn’t really work on Hallowe’en for guests, so we do what we can. If you want Wanda and the games room, she’s right through that door.” Sally pointed.

“Thanks. I think I will.”

Sally smiled, and closed the book Amerie had last been reading. “That’ll be very different from reading.”

Amerie wondered what she meant, but strode across the library to the door Sally had indicated.

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There was another door on the opposite side of the entranceway, wasn’t there? He was sure he’d seen one, a mirror to Richard’s office door.

Lennox watched the suit of shiny elaborate armour warily. It didn’t stand quite still enough to just be a robot, although he had no idea how it could have anyone inside it. Either way, the message was clear: that front door stayed closed.

It didn’t come after him, though, when he took a look around and identified the door in question. It wasn’t going to hide a way out, but he might as well be thorough. Maybe there was a deadbolt key hanging on the wall.

The room was a sort of feminine reflection of Richard’s office, decorated in softer furniture in a theme of roses rather than autumn leaves. A roll-top desk, a couch and chair, rug on the floor, stained-glass window. On one wall was a very large mirror. The simple black frame didn’t quite match the rest of the decor, and faint traces on the wall suggested that there had once been something a bit larger mounted in this spot.

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“Your colours are fading,” Neon observed. “You’re hardly even green at all anymore, and there’s barely any of that rather nice oregano scent left.”

Trace looked down at his arms. “Oh yeah. Didn’t even notice. Guess I got used to it.”

Neon chuckled. “Some people are adaptable enough to do that. Not all that many.”

“Hi, folks!” A stranger bounced into the kitchen, or at least, sort of did.

All Trace could see was slightly-cheesy Hallowe’en fashion: a close-fitting black tank-dress printed with orange pumpkins and purple bats, orange fishnet stockings and matching fingerless gloves, nails painted in a mix of black and purple and orange, knee-height black boots with wedge heels, dangly earrings with plastic pumpkins on one side and bats on the other, a black lace choker. The glossy orange lips were smiling, and the black-lined lilac-and-white-shadowed eyes looked like they might be in accord, but there was no visible person underneath that or the clothing.

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“We’ve been talking for some time,” Richard said. “I suggest that you drop by the library if you want further information on the history of this house. There are several photographs and two paintings on display showing the house and grounds from different angles and at different seasons, and there is a book Ségolène put together while we were building the house, documenting the entire process so we could look back on it ourselves or leave its history to our heirs. If you can’t find it, Sally is usually near the library on Hallowe’en night and can assist. She knows the library better than anyone, including Ségolène and I.”

“Oh, I definitely need to see those. I met Sally, she tried to be nice even though I was pretty freaked out, and I think she probably kept me from hitting my head.” She tried to figure out just how long she’d been talking to Richard. She must have lost track in her excitement.

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