Thanks for the reviews.
Rona had passed a few more doors, always on the same side
Rona had passed a few more doors, always on the same side. She had checked them all, but mostly only by stepping just inside the bookcase or welsh dresser or false pantry wall that was acting as a door to give the room the once over.
Occasionally she heard the tap tap of fast paced foot steps again and would freeze in fright, but as nothing ever attacked her, she always kept walking and searching again. Now and then she thought she heard someone whispering her name, but knew it was just the muted sounds of the party causing her mind to play tricks on her. Still, it freaked her out and she could have done without it.
Her next discovery, only three foot from the tiny slit of a window in the far wall, made her grin despite her fear. Not the steep stone steps leading up one way or the equally narrow, dark continuation of the corridor leading the other, but bright light shining through two small holes in the wall. This place really was old school. They were level with her forehead, but Rona went up on tiptoes to peek out, wondering whose portrait her eyes were impostering.
It was hard to tell what kind of room she was looking into. Someone had found or brought in a boom box and Green Day were competing with the Beethoven playing in the Ballroom, because of that the room was extra crowded with kids oblivious to being spied on from inside the walls. It was a voyeur's paradise, but Rona was more interested in trying to get out. There was no door here, just the peep-holes and it was irritating being able to see people having a good time when she wasn't.
Just as she was about to move on, she spotted something that made her eyes light up. Friends! Or people she knew anyway, she conceded, as she watched Andrew and Craig talking directly across the room.
Her excitement was short-lived as from the darkness behind her came the sound of scurrying footsteps again and they were coming towards her fast. Panic overtaking her; she started to bang on the brick wall with both fists.
"Andrew! Andrew! Craig! Help!" She saw the people closest look around, but there was too much noise for her muffled cries to travel far. "Andrew! Andrew! In the wall!"
Someone heard her. The music was turned off. Protests were shushed. Awash with relief she started banging even hard, hurting her fists as the masonry crumbled slightly under her blows.
"Yes! Andrew! Andrew!" People were looking around again, Andrew and Craig included. "Andrew! I'm in the wall, dumbass! Andrew!"
She pounded the wall with both fists at once so hard the painting she was looking through crashed to the floor. En masse, everyone in the room screamed or yelled and ran for the door, Craig and Andrew included. Within seconds there was no one left to hear her.
"Damn." Rona swore.
The footsteps were still coming towards her, unhurried and inevitable and sounding bigger now they were so close. She swallowed hard. There was only one place left to go. With no time to think beyond that, she ran up the steep steps.
"Something feels different." Andrew said again. "Don't you think something feels different?"
"I do." Craig pushed another quail's egg into his mouth and licked his fingers. "I also know something is different. On account of there being all that posh food out there and the dead composers' greatest hits being played all over the house and that blinding flash of Magick that nearly rocked the house right off its foundations."
"Shouldn't we do something?"
"Why? As long as we stay where the portable stereo is this version of the party is better than the other one." Craig scooped up two fingers of caviar and stuck it in his mouth, gagging when he discovered he didn't like it.
"But we haven't seen the others for ages!" Andrew continued, getting the impression Craig wasn't taking this seriously at all. "What if the Magick did something to them?"
"Like what? Made them cleaner? I'm pretty sure it was just your standard uncover spell with a party-twist. It just got rid of all the grime, made the place pretty and… provided quality munchies. Whoever did it probably meant to do it before the party started but didn't get around to it."
"I don't know. I think I'd just feel better if I knew where they were. You can't be too careful in a haunted house."
"It's not a haunted house." Craig laughed.
"I'm telling you I saw a face at that window."
On the other side of the room a couple of guys turned to the wall behind them with puzzled expressions. Andrew watched them, but was in too much of a flap to take much notice.
"So there could be a perfectly logical normal reason for that," Craig shrugged. "Just because we know what we know, doesn't mean everything is related to the paranormal. Besides its Halloween and everyone knows spooks and that stay home on Halloween. And if they're at home, they're not gonna be here haunting the place, are…"
The music was abruptly turned off and as everyone looked over to see why, a muffled wailing noise came from the wall.
"What's that?" Andrew's wide eyes were fixed on the wall.
"Not sure," Craig never took his eyes from the wall either.
There was some muffled banging, some more wild wailing. Slowly everyone began to inch away from the wall. Andrew and Craig already had a wall at their back and couldn't go any further.
Now the room was pin dropping silent and the wailing became more distinct.
"There's something trapped in the walls," Andrew breathed.
"Looks like it," Craig swallowed hard.
"Ha!" Andrew turned to him with a triumphant expression. "I told you the place was haunted!"
"Andrew! Andrew!"
Andrew went pale and sweaty as the wall started calling his name. The banging started again, almost pounding really, and then on one particularly long wail of his name there was a boom and an elegantly framed oil painting of Chief Pontiac fell and crashed to the floor.
As one, the room of teenagers screamed and yelled and ran for the door. Andrew and Craig were caught in the middle, but once they'd made it to the foyer they stopped to catch their breath.
"Why is a ghost howling my name?" Andrew asked, still shaking.
"I don't know, but I think it was asking you for help. Maybe it knew you were the only who believed it was there. Maybe the uncover spell sort of… uncovered it and now it knows it's a ghost or… something." Craig shrugged. "I don't know anything about ghosts."
Andrew racked his brains for what he knew. Also nothing. The only ghosts he had made the acquaintance of had really been the First. But surely he must know something.
"I think they like to be exorcised. So they can move on to the afterlife, I think, maybe."
Craig nodded, "That's a start. Maybe this ghost wants you to exorcise it then. How do we do that?"
"I have no idea."
They looked at each other for a moment, both waiting for the other to have a brainwave.
"We have to find the others." Andrew said at last.
Reece heard scampering in front of him as soon as he started walking. His first thought was that this place was full of Piskies too, but then reason told him the scamperer was wearing shoes or boots of some kind and the little purple menaces always seemed to go barefoot. Also whatever was in front of him had sounded bigger than that.
"Hello?"
There was no answer and after a few seconds the footsteps were lost under the muffled sounds of the party.
The first exit sign he found made him laugh. Either this place wasn't as deserted as Dawn had been lead to believe or the kids throwing the party were really conscientious. He found the lever, swung the door open and stepped in holding his lighter above his head.
It was a small room, all wall and no window. Shelves lined the walls cluttered with arcane paraphernalia and in the centre of the stone floor was a large chalk pentagram.
"Shit."
He left the room quickly, pushing the door shut with a slight slam. As far as he knew he had no magical ability, but he didn't need any to know walking into a pentagram was probably a bad idea.
The next door he came upon opened into a dining room and the one after that a cold store room. He checked every door he came to with equal interest. Now and then he heard footsteps again, sometime light and quick, sometime slow and heavy. Each time he stopped and softly called out to Rona, but no one ever answered him.
It was as his lighter finally got too hot to hold and he dropped it with a hiss that he heard the yelling. It sounded like Rona, although he couldn't be sure.
"Rona," he said to find out, groping the stone around his feet for the hot Zippo.
Banging drowned out his call. Scooping up his Zippo with another hiss as the baking metal touched his fingers; he dropped it into his pocket and listened again. He could hear someone running away from him and then the shouting started again. He was sure it was Rona, and the harder he listened the more sure he was that she was shouting for help.
"Rona!" He called one last time and then decided to keep it down in case she was in trouble. In the dark he could mount a surprise attack, but he'd give himself away if he charged in shouting her name.
There was more scurrying ahead of him and ragged panting now too and suddenly the smell of vodka hit him like he had walked into a cloud of it. Up ahead, Rona's shouts for help were getting more and more frantic.
Unable to see anything but the tiny slit of a window directly ahead of him, Reece walked as fast as he dared in the dark.
"Just hang on, Slayer," Reece muttered under his breath. "I'm nearly there."
Suddenly there was an almighty crash which made him jump and drew screams from the other side of the wall and seconds later the sound of someone running away as fast as they could.
Running now, mindless of danger, Reece reached the end and looked around wildly into the darkness of the next corridor and up the stone steps, but there was no sign of Rona; no sign of anything.
Gently weaving from one side to the other, the mighty Chosen Two finally left the tavern behind them. It was still pretty early, but Boudenver's main street was quiet, as it usually was. The sound of kids running to and from houses in the side alleys reached the Slayers' ears and they giggled at the childish simplicity of it all.
"Want to hit a few houses? Score some candy?" asked Buffy, pulling her shiny red cape around her bare arms against the cold October evening.
Faith looked across at her. "Be easier just to steal it offa one of the kids."
"Where's the fun in that?"
"You mean aside from the whole stealing candy from the little kids part," Faith smirked. "You don't think that's fun?"
"You're warped," Buffy shook her head, hiding her smile.
"And you're just realising this now?"
Faith was taking off her tatty denim jacket, it was already ripped up from two weeks of demon fighting – a testament to her slaying style – and Faith had used her Bowie knife that afternoon to add a few more. The numerous holes meant it didn't offer all that much protection against the chill, but when Faith wrapped it around Buffy's shoulders, the blonde felt warmer from the gesture alone. And at least the dried blood splashes were fake; she hoped.
"Thanks," Buffy smiled.
Faith shrugged.
"Doesn't really go with the rest of my costume though," Buffy pointed out.
"You weren't fooling anyone into thinking you were Wonder Woman anyway, B, so don't sweat it." Faith grinned slyly at her.
"Oh really," Buffy's eyes scanned the street and seeing people around, she pulled Faith into an alley.
Once in the dark, she gripped Faith's hips and easily lifted her into the air until her feet dangled against Buffy's thighs. Faith's jacket slipped from Buffy's shoulders and her shiny red cape billowed in the fresh breeze.
"Still think I couldn't be Wonder Woman?"
Faith hung there from her hands quite happily. "Well you do look good in the outfit," she admitted with a little leer.
Buffy imagined the view from Faith's perspective. "You're looking down my boob-enhancing, spangly red and gold, stiff-as-a-board Wonder-bodice, aren't you?" she asked, with a resigned sigh.
"Uh huh," Faith nodded, "and from up here I can tell you that you don't need any enhancing; your tits are a wonder all on their own."
Buffy dropped Faith so that she landed lightly on her feet, and probably went as red as her bright, shiny cape. Despite her embarrassment at the attention, she was so glad she'd gone with this instead of the cheaper choice of re-making the Little Red Riding Hood costume.
Buffy stooped to pick up Faith's jacket from the ground, realising too late she was giving Faith another eyeful. "At least I made the effort."
They left the alley and walked on again.
"I made a lot more of an effort than you did," Faith countered as she looked down at her own attire. "All you did was go to a store and pick out the sluttiest costume you could find!"
"I did not!" Buffy pushed Faith hard on the shoulder and the other Slayer stumbled tipsily into someone's front door. Rebounding back, she rubbed her left shoulder where it had struck the green wood and stared doubtfully at Buffy. "It wasn't the sluttiest." Buffy insisted.
The green door opened and both Slayers stepped back in surprise.
"Hello girls, how can I help you this evening?" The house-owner, or door-owner at least, was old, wrinkled and with red-hair that was definitely not natural. Her wide, dentured smile faltered a little when she realised she had been disturbed by adults not children, but she made up for it by smiling even wider. Buffy hoped she wasn't about to get hit by a pair of false teeth popping out because she knew she would scream.
"Uh…" Faith began but then didn't seem to know what to follow up with afterwards, she made a 'what now' gesture at Buffy.
"Trick or treat," Buffy finished for her brightly.
"Yeah," agreed Faith with a tiny shrug.
The old lady grinned some more. "Well okay, let me see what I can find." She disappeared from the door for half a second, when she reappeared she was carrying a big bowl. "Here's a caramel apple for you, Wonder Woman."
Buffy accepted her apple on a stick from her, smiling brightly. "Thank you."
"And here's one for you, uh…" She took a good look at Faith's costume as she held the apple just out of Faith's reach, her smile wavered again. "Uh?"
Faith looked down at herself and then met the woman's eyes in disbelief. "I'm a zombie! Look," she tilted her head up to show the woman the line of eye-liner butterfly stitches across her neck.
"Of course you are." As the woman addressed the indignant Slayer as if she was nine years old, Buffy bit into her sticky apple to cover her imminent giggles. "I can see that now. Very realistic claw marks – what got you?" the lady played along.
Faith looked down at the slashed material of her tank top. "Werewolf," she answered truthfully.
The old lady beamed at her, obviously appreciating Faith's little attempts at authenticity.
Faith rolled her eyes. "Can I have my apple now?"
"Of course, dear." The lady handed it over and Faith snatched it away, walking off down the road leaving Buffy to say thank you again.
When Buffy caught up to her, Faith had already finished her apple, was chewing on the last mouthful and regarding the stick it had been stuck on. She made a staking motion with it. "Nah, too flimsy."
The stick was thrown over someone's garden hedge and Faith licked her fingers clean.
"Did you even taste it?" Buffy asked, biting another chunk out of hers.
Faith ignored that. "No one appreciates the work I put into this," she gestured to herself. "It took me ages to get the stitches just right when I couldn't see what I was doing. I had to keep stopping to check they were level."
"It's not that it doesn't look real," Buffy promised her. "When I first opened the front door I thought you'd been in a traffic accident."
They were almost out of town now, just a few more houses and then the road would be bordered on both sides by fields. Buffy stopped under the last street light.
"It's just that when normal people go on a date they dress up not down." With the hand not holding her apple-stick she fingered the tears in Faith's tank top, touching her fingers to the smooth skin of her tummy beneath. "At least on first dates anyway."
"We're not normal people, B." Faith smiled. "If we were, Halloween probably wouldn't have been the first night we had the chance to go out on a date."
"Does this mean I have to wait a year for a second date?" Buffy asked, leaning back against the light pole as she grinned at Faith.
"No it just means we have to make Kennedy and the others work harder." Faith was inexorably drawn to lean closer to her. "Why, are you going to say yes to another date?"
Buffy looked into her eyes, her lips pursing repeatedly as she tried to stop herself from smiling. "Haven't decided yet." She finally replied impishly, slipping away just as Faith's lips were about to land on her own.
Faith sighed impatiently, resting her forehead against the wooden post for a beat before turning and following Buffy up the road into the darkness.
Buffy waited for her to catch up and, after only a seconds hesitation reached out and took Faith's warm hand, earning her a brief smile.
Hand in hand they walked along the middle of the asphalt. If a car came along they would both hear it and see it in plenty of time to get to the dirt edge of the road. The only light out here was the moon high in the sky above them, bathing the fields in silver frosting and making the woods up ahead look even more forbidding than they normally would at this time of night.
Lucky for them that it was the one night of the year when the things that went bump stayed out of the night. It was at least a thirty minute walk back to the camp, all of it along roads as dark, if not darker, as the one they were currently following, but cabs out here in the boondocks were non-existent unless you wanted to pay the fare to have it come all the way from Cleveland first.
The two of them being Slayers obviously meant they could more than take care of themselves if they had to, but this was supposed to be a date and for once Buffy really didn't want to interrupt it for impromptu slaying. There were enough things that could go wrong without adding 'having to work late' to them.
So far though nothing had gone wrong, not really anyway, nothing that would put Buffy off a second date, but that didn't mean it was a good idea to let Faith know that too soon.
"Aren't you cold?" Buffy broke the easy silence between them, realising she still had Faith's jacket around her shoulders and Faith was only wearing her tiny torn up tank top.
Out here in the open, walking uphill, it was quite a bit colder than it had been in town.
"A little," Faith admitted, shrugging a little to show it was no big deal.
"You should put your coat back on," Buffy started to take it off her shoulders. "I have my cape."
"No, don't." Faith released her hand long enough to keep the torn denim jacket on Buffy's shoulders. "I'm fine, really."
Buffy smiled, Faith's hands were still on her shoulders. "Okay, if you're sure."
"I'm sure."
"You know, Faith, there's not much point in getting top marks for effort if you freeze to death before the end of the date. A girl doesn't like that kind of thing." Buffy smirked, nudging her hip against Faith's as she took her hand again.
"Actually I think most girls would love the idea of their date freezing their ass off so they could be warm," Faith argued with a smirk of her own. "But I'm really not that cold, B, so don't worry about me being too frozen to appreciate the end of our date, alright?" She swung their clasped hands between them a little.
Buffy wondered just what Faith had in mind for the end of their date.
She may have agreed to let the other woman organise everything, after all it was Faith that was supposed to be making things up to her and Buffy was prepared to give her free reign to do that – because she wanted Faith to make things up to her. However that didn't mean that one night in Barnies, no matter how much fun it ultimately had been, earned Faith more than the kiss already promised.
"Are you gonna finish that?"
Faith suddenly speaking after minutes of silence startled Buffy enough that she nearly dropped the apple in question. The road was entering the woods now, trees crowding the fences on either side of the asphalt strip, making the night so dark that it was all but impossible to see one foot in front of the other. She took another bite from the candy covered fruit before offering it to Faith.
As Faith reached up her free hand to accept it, Buffy pulled it away a little.
"Why won't anyone just hand over the damn apples tonight?" Faith chuckled.
"I'm offering you a bite, not the whole thing." Buffy explained, bringing the treat closer to Faith again. The stick was clearly visible, but the apple was a lot darker in colour and couldn't be seen very well.
Faith frowned at it, and then turned the expression on Buffy, who grinned encouragingly and moved it even closer to Faith's mouth. Faith shook her head cynically, but moved in to take a bite at the half an apple left on the stick.
Buffy, unable to help herself, slowly edged the treat out of reach, moving it slowly enough that Faith just kept leaning in, not realising the goal post was moving.
Of course she realised once her neck was stretched uncomfortably out in front of her and she still couldn't reach the apple.
"B!" Faith snapped, amid Buffy's sudden bout of giggles.
Buffy felt Faith's fingers close over her hand as she tried to pull the apple up to her mouth to take a bite. Knowing Faith would take the whole thing clean off the stick to pay her back, Buffy lowered her mouth to sink her own teeth into it and snatch it up first. Faith's forehead softly bumped against hers as she claimed a chunk of the sticky fruit and Buffy's giggles were exacerbated as she imagined the apple as a piece of spaghetti held between the two of them. Trying to focus on Faith made her go cross-eyed, the other woman's face was so close, just the other side of the apple in fact. Faith shook her head playfully, like a puppy inviting a tug-of-war game and Buffy nearly lost her tooth-grip on her treat.
She tried to say, "It's mine," but it came out an unintelligible mumble.
Faith held her eyes for another few seconds before biting though the apple with a loud crunch. The quarter left on the stick started to fall away from the wood as Buffy opened her mouth to repeat herself. Faith caught it as it fell between them.
"I said that was mine!" Buffy repeated clearly now her mouth was empty.
"I saved you some." Faith held up the chunk she'd caught and offered it to her.
Buffy glared at her indignantly before leaning down and snatching the offered piece with her lips, she crunched it up and swallowed it down quickly. "You owe me half a candy apple."
"Yeah, yeah." Faith reached for her hand again but Buffy backed away.
"No, your fingers are all sticky!"
Even in the darkness of the woods, Buffy could see the dark shapes of eyebrows wiggling against the pale skin of Faith's face. She slapped Faith's arm lightly and started walking up the hill again. Faith walked beside her, noisily sucking her fingers clean and trying to catch Buffy's eye as she did it.
Buffy kept her eyes straight ahead.
When Faith seemed happy that her hand was no longer tacky, she held it out again.
"No, now they have your spit all over them."
"What's wrong with my spit?" asked Faith.
"Nothing." But she still didn't make it easy for Faith to hold her hand again, pulling it away at the last second every time Faith tried.
"If you have a problem with my spit, it's not just gonna affect the girly hand-holding stuff, ya know?" Faith got a hold of two of her fingers but Buffy wriggled them free.
"I don't have a problem with it."
Their hands wrestled with each other. "In fact my spit is gonna play a pretty big part in this relationship so if you…"
"Faith," Buffy cut her off, chuckling, "The only problem I have with your spit is that you keep talking about your spit – which isn't as seductive as you might think it is."
"Prove it," Faith succeeded in pinning Buffy's hand in her own and held on tight.
"What?" laughed Buffy, allowing her hand to be held now without a fight.
"Prove you don't have a problem with it," Faith insisted as she swerved around to stand in front of Buffy, stopping her from walking.
"I proved that months ago." Buffy tried to walk around her. "And earlier."
Faith side-stepped to stay in front of her. "I just want to make sure you haven't developed an allergy or something."
"First spit and now allergies, are you trying to turn me off?"
"I think you're trying to turn yourself off," Faith told her in a conspiratorial whisper, leaning as close as she had been when they were fighting over the apple. "And I get why now, but you don't have to."
Buffy leaned away, smirking. "Oh yeah, I've had to make a conscious effort all night not to ravish you, Faith. I don't know how I stopped myself."
"A whole lot of self-control and plenty of fear." Faith answered her seriously. She glanced quickly down at herself. "And my choice of costumes probably helped; no need to thank me."
Buffy smirk was losing its strength and when slightly damp fingertips touched her cheek, she moved her head to the side. Faith's fingers stayed with her though, lightly resting on her suddenly burning skin. Buffy swallowed.
"You on the other hand," Faith continued softly as she let her thumb trace over the curve of Buffy's cheek. "Are indulging one of my favourite fantasies and looking wicked hot while you're at it and I'm being as good as gold over here."
"If you're trying to say I want you more than you want me…" Buffy began quietly.
"You know that's not it, Buffy. Jeez did you forget our conversation earlier already." Faith took a second just to look into Buffy's eyes. "I'm saying you can relax a little. I know I screwed up, big-time, and I probably will again, but I won't make that screw-up again. I'm in it for the long-haul too, babe, I promise; and… kissing or fucking, that's up to you, but doing neither is just driving us both crazy. That's all I'm saying."
Faith stepped away, giving Buffy back her personal space and instantly it was too much space. Their hands remained clasped as they started walking again, and now their shoulders were lightly touching as well.
Buffy realised she still hadn't said anything and cleared her throat while she tried to think of a suitable response to Faith's honest disclosure, finally settling on, "So did you fantasize about me being Wonder Woman or just about Wonder Woman herself?"
Owen stood behind the banquet table resisting the urge to slap the children's hands away from the food. He sighed to himself as it disappeared all too quickly. There went his leftovers for the next week. He didn't really begrudge them, he always purchased far too much anyway and at least it was being enjoyed. He did wonder if he could get Victor and his friend to help him carry the stag back through to the kitchen, the children seemed to be a little scared of it anyway and if he froze portions it would feed him for a month.
In a way, although he was still disappointed that his small gathering that he looked forward to so much was ruined, and still angry that someone had played this trick on him, it was very nice to see the ballroom filled with people for the first time in over a century. He was even tempted to change the music to something a little more contemporary, because no one was dancing and that was a shame.
Ptah and Zeke wandered over to him, they were both obviously nervous in the crowd and had been staying close together since leaving the library.
"Iggy's in the study playing poker," Ptah informed him with resigned amusement in a voice muffled by his bandages.
"Is he winning?" Owen asked with a small smile.
"Only a little more than he's losing," said Zeke. "Not enough to get beaten up yet anyway."
"Well, that's a mercy at least."
"Yes the last thing we need is a repeat of the Vegas trip in '27." Ptah said as he piled a paper plate high with lettuce, tomato and cucumber.
"Speaking of that trip," Owen said wryly catching the eyes of his friends. "Has anyone seen Vlad since we left the library?"
Ptah paused with a lettuce leaf dangling out of his mouth and Zeke looked around the ballroom uneasily.
Ptah chewed up his leaf. "You told us all to go out different doors and the glow bugs didn't give off a lot of light."
"I think he was behind me walking through the passage," Zeke offered. "But then we came out behind the stage and Vlad kept going."
"He wouldn't, would he?" Ptah asked.
Owen simply shook his head, not knowing the answer. While he liked to think the best of all his friends, it couldn't be forgotten that his friends were all, in one way or another, devilish fiends. It wasn't their fault they were who they were and it wasn't his fault he had formed such close ties with them all. It didn't matter how large your social circle was in youth, the longer you lived the smaller it became, it was inevitable.
Most of the gang had grown accepting of humans over the years. The threat they posed was too great and superstition wasn't what it used to be. Vlad, however, feared no one and something of his status was not going to be weaned onto cow blood no matter how many mobs he faced.
"I'm sure he's behaving himself," Owen said, trying to reassure himself.
"I ain't seen Paddy for a while either," Zeke mentioned as he pulled a leg from the stag as if it was a chicken.
"Well you wouldn't, would you?" Ptah chuckled. "He wouldn't be seen in a crowd of four of these great oafs."
"Paddy will be in a quiet corner with a bottle of alcohol by now." Owen smiled, not worried.
"Yes, give him an hour or two and he'll be trying to sell these youths the deeds to his rainbow." Ptah said laughing, and Zeke and Owen joined in.
Rona had run up the steep steps – there had only been ten of them – and dashed along the passage way at the top, ultra aware of the footsteps following her all the way.
She slapped the walls at handle level as she passed, hoping like hell she'd find a doorway quick so she could hide until whoever was following her had passed by again.
She kept thinking she heard her name being called, but it was far away and distorted so she could have been imagining it.
There was another small slit of a window here, and the passage divided, but she didn't realise. Carrying straight on past the grey light coming in, her legs went out from under her as she hit steps she couldn't see. Falling down them, she tried to keep her mouth shut, but couldn't stop a few pained grunts escaping.
She was winded by the surprise of it, but thankfully hadn't picked up more than a few bruises as far as she could tell. Still trying not to make any noise she untwisted from the heap she had fallen in and started to stand back up facing the steps.
Her heart stopped when she saw the silhouette there, standing right at the top. She started to back away, hoping it hadn't seen her yet, but when moonlight glinted off of the raised for stabbing, foot long carving knife, she screamed…
Tbc...
