There's something strange about Button House.
It's both subtle and obvious at the same time - a kind of simultaneous balancing act - peculiar in its inconsistent consistency. Newly installed lightbulbs flicker, sometimes on a large scale, and other times in an odd singularity. Inexplicably, things have the tendency to move about. Eliza has witnessed it happening in her periphery only once, could have fooled herself into thinking it was her imagination if not for the sound of the mug dragging across the table.
Then there is Alison. She's lovely, but just as strange as the house itself. On numerous occasions, Eliza overhears her muttering to people when there's only the two of them in a room - looking at specific areas of empty space as if someone's there - smiling or even laughing at nothing. Mike, Alison's husband, acts as if this is all completely normal, so Eliza goes along with it in the same fashion. It's not as if she's got no experience with it, after all, because her own brother exhibits much of the same behaviour. Holden hallucinates - has done so since the accident when they were four - his perspective altered permanently.
So Eliza minds her own business and focuses on the job Mike and Alison hired her to do. Holden is a magician with his camera, as always, so the photoshoot part of the process is over and done with quickly. The brides-to-be look incredible, dressed up as if they were queens, ready to be put to a canvas.
Alison insists she should come to the mansion to paint. I'd love to watch you work, she'd said, maybe get some tips. I'm a painter myself - not a good one - but you know... it's always been a passion.
Eliza agrees simply because she remembers when she had been the aspiring painter, always eager for any opportunity to improve or work on her craft. Besides, Button House really is an inspiring place to work, so full of dwindling majesty and the remnants of a decadent history spanning generations. It's exactly the kind of place her mother would have loved, with all her admiration for classical literature. It's like something right out of a Jane Austen novel... romantic in its attempt at fading authenticity.
The painting is a great labour of love, as every piece she devotes herself to often is. With Holden's eye for photography, the reference is a delight to work from... but there is something about Button House that puts her on edge and prevents her from relaxing enough to absorb herself in the artwork. It needles at her, this uncanny feeling, an alertness to her subconscious that feels almost as if she is being watched. But it is only ever her, Alison and Mike at the house. The rooms remain as empty as she expects them to be.
Thankfully, she has the painting finished a few days before the wedding. With just enough time to dry, too. Holden is too busy with another client the day of the ceremony, so it's up to Eliza to present the finished product all by herself. Mike and Alison are kind enough to let her stay overnight, and she is beyond glad they had by morning, because the blizzard of snow that comes out of nowhere looks fearsome from inside the house, let alone to drive through. Eliza keeps herself out of the way as the Coopers rush about trying to adapt and make the ceremony happen. She puts on the pretty lilac dress she had bought especially and takes her time to perfect her hair and makeup.
Eliza presents the portrait to the brides with great success, a beaming smile on her face as she watches them devolve into happy tears at the sight of it. She's overflowing with it - the pride and elation - as she walks back to the room so that she can call Holden and let him know about the reaction. It strikes her very suddenly, like a clap of thunder, inside of her own head. Everything is over very quickly, with only a split second of agony, before she crumples to the ground and expires right there, on the carpeted floor.
Button House is a strange place to visit. It is an even stranger place to die.