Underneath The Surface Chapter 13
Underneath The Surface Chapter 13
Flavors of Hell
**Authors Note: First, let me apologize for the long wait between updates. I'll try to update every few days. Secondly, I apologize for this short chapter, but it was necessary. I tried making it longer, but my Muse all but insisted this be a stand alone. Although it may not seem like it, this will be an important chapter. I hope you like it.**
Back at their room at the B&B, Emma shut the door, locked it and collapsed on the bed. She let her lower legs and feet dangle over the edge. She laid that way for a minute before sitting up and starting to unlace her boots.
Regina, true to her upbringing, had already removed her shoes and left them by the door. She retrieved the book on magic from her night stand and sat on the bed, back scooted against the headboard.
"Did you want to read the book together, or you read one night, or...?" Regina let the question trail.
"I guess we can try reading the same page, unless you read faster than me and I drive you crazy."
Regina shrugged and patted the bed beside her.
Emma, having finally unlaced and removed her boots, settled beside Regina and sighed.
"Tired?"
"Not used to chopping wood after a run, I guess."
"You should pace yourself. Perhaps run a little less now that you have the firewood to burn off stress."
"I think you're right."
Regina said no more, but made sure she had a notebook and pencil nearby and opened the book.
They found they read at pretty much the same speed, but it was when they were on page 20, when Regina asked if Emma was done reading that page, that she realized Emma's head was leaning against her shoulder.
She had been so focused on the book, she hadn't noticed her breathing change.
Regina smiled and carried on reading, making notes occasionally while Emma napped on her shoulder.
Emma had ceased being aware of her surroundings. Somewhere near the beginning of page 20, she found her eyelids sliding shut and unwilling to keep them open. She had a comfortable headrest and she was more tired than she had been willing to admit. One minute she was awake, and then...
Then she was standing at the top of a narrow flight of stairs. The stairway looked vaguely familiar, with peeling strips of faded white paint, a hand rail broken off halfway down and one swinging, dimly-lit, bare bulb overhead.
Emma...Emma...
The voice whispered her name and sent chills racing across her arms. Her hands instinctively came up to her forearms and she discovered she was touching flannel. She looked down to see herself wearing a pink and white night gown she'd had when she was 12.
With a flash, she realized the scene, the moment, was all too familiar. She remembered this...the fear gripped her stomach just as it had back then and she tried very hard to forget.
There was no forgetting, as her feet carried her forward and down.
She didn't want to go lower, she wanted to stay upstairs, but she continued down...down...
I'm waiting Emma, be a good girl and come down...
No! She wanted to scream, but all that came out was a strangled, weak whimper.
Her feet carried her further down the stairs and the bulb swung more wildly, throwing her shadow around the stairwell.
Emma...you know why you need to do this...you know I won't hurt you...
In the back of her mind, Emma knew the voice lied. She knew what waited for her down there.
When she was nearly at the bottom, the light sputtered and swung more wildly. She felt the little hairs on her arms all stand up and no matter how warm the flannel was, she grew colder and colder.
But try as she might, she could not stop her downward descent.
The light went out for a few seconds, coming back to life suddenly in a blinding flash. Emma was momentarily relieved until she saw the pale face at the bottom of the stairs, peeking around the corner at her with a wide, evil smile.
She screamed for all she was worth.