Sent: 12/10/12 13:40
To: Hewitt_DoctorofArchaeology gmail . net
Cc: cassyrosebright hotmail . com
Subject: The New Exhibit

Dear Dr Hewitt,

Firstly, I apologise for my persistence and I hope that your trip to Glasgow is going well. I am aware that this is my sixth e-mail; however as your humble apprentice and student, I would feel much more at ease at the upcoming exhibition if you were present there.
Curator Stanford has asked me to re-issue my invitation to you. Please find this attached to this e-mail. Provided that you have already received it, I would be very much obliged if you could send an RSVP receipt in return to clarify this.
I realise that you are probably very busy at the moment but even some criticism or advice regarding the exhibition would be very helpful to me. I have a few questions regarding the final stages of the restoration process and whether or not the resin and plaster should be working quickly over a period of forty eight hours. Should I send you a few attached photographs of the restored statue? I also need you to send me the results of the revised dating tests- something which Curator Stanford has also been insistent about.
Once again, I apologise for my persistence and hope that your research is going well.
Thank you for taking the time to read this e-mail and I hope to hear from you soon.

Yours sincerely,
Cassidy Albright

"He hasn't been returning my e-mails."
"Who hasn't?" Louisa Fitzhugh, the museum's resident receptionist asked, looking up from her computer screen to the apprentice archaeologist who was sitting cross-legged on her desk.
Usually Louisa wouldn't have tolerated Cassidy's chosen perch, ("If the kids aren't allowed to do it, Cass, neither are you."), but it was three hours before opening and the receptionist could tell when her best friend was stressed out enough to be allowed to break the rules.

"Hewitt," Cassidy said, swallowing back another yawn and massaging her temples. "This is really unlike him. Seriously. I mean he's been slow to reply before but he's never ignored my e-mails entirely. I mean usually after my second e-mail, he sends me something telling me to shut up and stop e-mailing him."
Louisa closed down her Facebook page and frowned. "So what are you going to do about the opening of the angel statue exhibit next week?"
"I dunno," Cassidy shrugged, taking a long, deep breath when she realised the implications of his absence for the first time. "I guess, I'm just going to have to give the opening speech and presentation without Dr Hewitt." Her eyes widened. "I'm a little freaked out about this."

"Couldn't you ask Edmund to do it?" Louisa suggested, absent-mindedly re-arranging the announcement cards beneath the counter. "Or at least to help you with it?"
"Oh no, no, no," Cassidy immediately retorted. "He is not getting involved in this. No matter how much he wants to." She wrinkled her nose. "He's always fucking trying to pull the spotlight away from me. He just can't stand that I've finally managed to get one up on him and he just has to outdo me. I'm getting sick of it." Cassidy ran her fingers through her hair, agitated as she looked back to her friend. "He's been a proper ass to me lately too. He went off complaining about me to Darrow yesterday."

"Complaining? About what?"
"Apparently everyone thinks I'm getting too attached to the statue. Darrow seemed to think I was practically fawning over it like a lover." Cassidy lowered her gaze, looking into her lap.
Louisa gave her a bemused smile, cocking an eyebrow. "Weren't you though? Everyone in the staff knows how obsessed you are with it, Cass, babe."
Cassidy looked up, her eyes widening. "Everyone o-on the staff th-thinks that?" She snorted indignantly, rolling her eyes. "Well, obviously I care greatly about the statue. I mean this is the first big find I've ever had. But I'm not obsessed with it or anything, Lou. Come on, it's just a statue."

She said this all very fast and did not quite meet the receptionist's eyes as she said it. It was Louisa who decided to change the subject.
"Ed's probably just jealous. I can see why."
Cassidy cocked an eyebrow. "Ed? Jealous? His job is better paid and of higher status than mine. I'm only getting a little more attention than usual because of this one weensy exhibit. And he's opened and presented what? Like forty exhibits before? Why on earth does that give him the right to be jealous of me?"
Louisa gave a low chuckle, her eyes lidded as she leaned forward on one elbow. "I didn't say I thought he was jealous of you, dullard. I reckon he's jealous of Leon."
Her companion coughed, suddenly feeling her neck heat up. "L-Leon? Leon Drake? The tour guide guy? Why would Edmund Potter be jealous of him?"
Louisa's lip-glossed smirk widened. "Because,it's so bloody obvious that you have the biggest crush ever on Leon and Edmund is jealous because he knows that better than anyone."

Cassidy barked with laughter. "You think Edmund actually li-? Oh God, Lou. The only reason Ed would take any interest in me is if he thought I was muscling in on his job." She placed a hand on the back of her neck, hoping that she'd cool down soon. "And I do not have a crush on Leon…"
Louisa held up her hands in surrender, now laughing madly at her friend's embarrassment. "Oh, I think you do, Cass! And speaking of the devil…" She looked over Cassidy's shoulder, suddenly beaming. "Morning, Leon."
Sure enough, there was the handsome redhead strutting down the corridor towards the main desk, already dressed in his scarlet and royal blue tour-guide's suit.

"Good morning, Louisa!" he returned, jovial as ever and nodding to both of the girls. "Good morning, Cass." He blinked at the latter of the two, tilting his head with concern. "Are you alright, Cass? You look kind of flushed."
Cassidy had to pinch Louisa beneath the table to stop her from bursting into peals of laughter. "I'm fine, Leon. Just a little warm."

Leon grinned. "That's good to hear. I was worried that you might've caught something off Abbie for a minute there. She was complaining about having a sore head this morning, saying that she couldn't come in for Lil'Diggers club." He frowned. "It was kind of unsettling for me. Usually she can't wait to get to the museum but this morning I had to bribe her with ice-cream to even get her out the door."
Cassidy uncurled her legs, dangling them over the edge of the counter. "I'm sorry to hear that. I hope she's feeling better soon. It's a good thing that she decided to come in after all though," she added with a smile. "Abbie is truly the star of the Lil'Diggers Club. It'd be a pity if she missed a meeting."

Now it was Louisa's turn to pinch Cassidy under the table, an even wider grin on her glossy lips. Cassidy frowned internally and shot a quick glare down at Louisa..
Her concern for Abigail Drake had nothing to do with wanting to get closer to Leon; she genuinely got on really well with Abbie. In fact, the little girl was the most intelligent of her age, she'd ever met.
"Yes, it truly would be a pity," Leon smiled. "That's actually what I came down here to talk about. James called in sick this morning and won't be in for the usual Lil'Diggers meeting before opening hours. Would either of you be interested in filling in?"

Louisa immediately interjected. "Well, I'm actually really busy filing all of these messages for Hewitt and Stanford." She winked up at her best friend. "But Cassidy here is more than available…"

"Lou!" Cassidy choked out before coughing slightly and recomposing herself again, looking to Leon. "Yes, I'm free until opening hours and…I'd love to help out with the meeting…"

Leon beamed. "Perfect! You being there will cheer Abbie right up. Plus, the kids are going to be looking at your angel statue this morning. Having you there will make telling the kids about it all the easier. You're so knowledgeable about this kind of thing anyway. I always fudge all my facts up." He scratched the back of his neck, humble as ever. "I don't know how I ever became a guide here."

As she walked down the corridor with Leon, Cassidy could have sworn she heard a wolf-whistle from Louisa in the distance.

"Ok mini-archaeologists," Leon told the group of children. "I think Miss Albright has answered a lot of your questions about the angel statue! Now it's time for you to make up some answers of your own." The older man crouched down to the eye-level of the group of excited, chirpy little kiddies- all clad in coloured jackets and carrying their very own sketch pads. "I want you to look at the angel statue really carefully and to make up your very own story about the angel, Michael. Where do you think he came from? What did he do before he came here? How do you think he would feel to be here if he were a real person? When you've got your story, then I want you to go to tell your partner. Ready! Set! Go!"

Cassidy giggled, watching the children run off in their brightly coloured swarm- Abbie in the centre of the group shouting about how her story was the best idea.
"They're so enthusiastic. I wish they had this club here when I was little."
"Yeah, it would have been great, wouldn't it?" Leon said, looking to her. "I have to hand it to you, Cass. The statue looks amazing. You did a great job restoring it. This exhibit is going to be amazing when it opens officially."

The young woman couldn't help but swoon slightly, trying with every fibre of her being to not start tittering like a school-girl as she forced modesty upon herself. "Thanks, seriously. Thank you so much…but the exhibit could be so much better. I mean, the statue is so mysterious. There's so little I could even answer for the kids…"

"Well," Leon countered. "There are plenty of other exhibits in the museum that are nothing short of exceptional and yet, shrouded in mystery." He chuckled, guiding her over to a canvas on display on the left wall next to the angel statue. "This painting has created controversy among viewers since the day that it came into the museum."
"It's…it's beautiful."
Cassidy's eyes scanned the painting, taking in each oil-glossed paint-stroke. The work was painted in a distinctly macabre style but with rich, classic colourings. It featured a huge, hulking, slate-skinned beast with a pretty, waif-like young maiden in his burly grasp- all against a backdrop of towering, twisted black trees: some kind of dark forest.
"La Belle et le Bête," she read aloud from the golden plaque. "The Beauty and the Beast?"
"Clever," praised Leon, nodding.
Cassidy waved a hand. "I took up French in Year Nine." She found herself looking carefully at the painting, her eyes suddenly settling on the face of the maiden in the arms of the supposed beast. "Her face…"
"Yes?"
She furrowed her brow. "I can't tell whether the girl is …well it's hard to say...if…"

"If she's throwing her head back in fear or in rapture?" Leon grinned. "Yep, that right there is the big controversy. People can't tell whether or not the maiden has her eyes shut in terror because she's been captured or in the throes of passion because she's with her secret lover."
There was something about hearing Leon use words like "rapture", "passion" and "lover" that made Cassidy's fingertips tingle and her mouth turn dry.

Perhaps she had liked him for quite a while now.
Girly crush?
Yes, of course it was.

But Cassidy Albright knew full well that she was no longer a silly, gushing schoolgirl and that was why the constant butterflies in her stomach around Leon was starting to become a little unnerving.

"What do you think? About the painting, I mean," the tour guide asked her, placing a hand on her shoulder.
Cassidy swallowed, about to force herself to speak when suddenly she caught something out of the corner of her eye, in her peripheral vision. The overbearing paranoia and the feeling of being watched had suddenly returned.
She whipped her head around, a flash of grey caught in her gaze and in an instant, she was staring at the angel statue again.
At Michael.

"Are you alright?" Leon asked, quizzically and furrowing his brows.
Cassidy felt herself shudder involuntarily, nodding quickly. "Yeah. Yeah, I am." She laughed outright, not feeling quite in the mood for laughter but laughing all the same. "I…I just…I just felt as if the angel statue was looking at me!"
"Well, he's not going to see much, is he? He has his arm over his eyes."
"…well, it still felt like…the statue was watching…somehow…listening, even…"
"Listening?"
She had never felt so relieved in her entire life when Abbie suddenly ran over, tugging the leg of her brother's pressed drainpipe trousers.

"Leon! Leon! Everybody's done telling their stories! Can we draw now!? Can we?!"

Leon smiled, patting his sister's head. "Ok, ok. Simmer down, Abbie!" He blew his whistle, summoning the children over and giving the new instructions.
"Ok everyone. Now we're going to sketch the statue. You all know the drill. We'll sit around the statue in a semi-circle. Take a good long look at the angel, then look down at your drawing pads and see how much of the angel you can draw from memory. Don't look up until you've finished and see how like the angel your drawing is! Sketching from memory is an important skill of an archaeologist…"

Cassidy was only half-listening.
Her own eyes were still focused on the statue, hard and unblinking. Even though she couldn't see its eyes, she felt as though it was staring back at her.
Watching her every move.
A wave of nausea washed over her and her stomach suddenly tightened.

"I- I'll be outside."
She ran from the room, heading over to the nearest drinking-water fountain and dangling her head over the pristine metal bowl. She wasn't particularly thirsty but for some reason, pressing her head down against the cool metal and looking at nothing but her own blurry reflection was somewhat soothing.
She pressed the button gingerly, letting the water gush from the spout and taking a long, cool slurp.
Cassidy spluttered, feeling someone suddenly touch her back and whipping around to see Leon standing there, holding a paper cup and looking concerned.

"I find it easier to drink with one of these," he said rather quietly, handing her the cup which she gratefully accepted. "Are you sure you're not sick, Cass? I mean first the flushing and now..."
Cassidy shook her head vigorously, wiping her mouth with her sleeve. "I'm fine. Just…just a little on the stressed side, today."
Leon rubbed her back gently, bringing colour to her cheeks once more. "You know, it's alright to have a bit of a fear of statues even if you work with them. I'll admit, I have no idea how you spend so much time alone with them…"

She blinked.
He thought she was afraid of the statue?
Was she?

Cassidy coughed, taking another sip of water and putting the cup aside. "I'm not afraid of the statue…I just…" She sighed. "I don't know how to explain it. I just got really uncomfortable in there for a moment." She forced herself to smile again. "Maybe I'm just overworked. Seeing the statue on display was rather weird and perhaps it's only serving to remind me of this presentation I have to do. I'm a bit nervous of that, I'll admit."
Leon nodded, smiling warmly and putting his arm around her to give her a comforting half-embrace. "I wouldn't worry about the presentation. You'll do great. Besides, you'll have me, Louisa and Ed in the audience for support." He chuckled. "Not to mention, you've got your very own guardian angel looking out for you."
Cassidy was about to laugh, a dizzying lightness in her head from being held so close to Leon, but she was drowned out by the sounds of screaming.

The two museum workers looked up in panic, watching as the entire group of children came running from the display room, screaming and shrieking and crying.
Some of the younger children were in complete hysterics, their cheeks soaked with tears and their brows creased with shock.

"What's wrong? What's the matter?" Leon asked, frantically running forward to comfort and to count the children.
The bottom just about dropped from Cassidy's stomach when amidst the cacophony of squeals and screams, she heard what the children were saying.

"It moved, Leon!"
"The angel statue moved!"
"It looked up!"
"It was so scary!"

As Leon tried to calm the children and to coax them to go back inside, Cassidy found herself gripping the edge of the water fountain for support- to stop herself from keeling over.
She watched as little Abbie bypassed her brother and instead came hurtling towards her.

Cassidy stooped down, allowing the little girl to throw her tiny arms around her neck.
"Abbie, sshhh," she tried to soothe her, despite the hammering heart in her own chest. "It's just a statue. I'm sure it was a trick of the light or something. It didn't really move…"

"No!" Abbie insisted, hugging the young woman as tightly as she could. "He moved! He really did. He looked right at us."
The little girl drew closer to Cassidy, whispering into her ear.
Abbie's words truly made her feel sick and chilled her to her very core.

"He watches you when you sleep," she whispered.
Cassidy's eyes widened and she reeled backwards, grabbing the little girl by the shoulders. "What?"
"He likes to watch you when you sleep," she repeated. "Sometimes when you fall asleep at your desk, he walks over to watch you sleeping."
"Who does, Abbie?" Cassidy asked in a confused, frightened whisper.

"Michael watches you, Cassy. The angel statue."

Cassidy felt her stomach convulse and her fingertips started to turn cold. "Wh-Who told you that?"
"He did, Cassy. Michael did. He told me in a dream I had." The little girl sniffed, nestling closer. "I wanted to tell you before but he's just so scary."

Before she could say or ask anything else, Leon came over to pry Abbie away from her and to usher her back over to the crowd of squawking children. "Come on, Abbie. Leave Cass alone."
Cassidy wanted to lift an arm to stop him and to call the little girl back.
However, she couldn't.

Her arms were cold and numb.

She stood up and suddenly broke into a run.
"They said that he moved. They all said that he moved. All of the children said that he moved."
She ran to the display room, bolting to the statue as fast as her quivering legs could carry her. No.
The angel hadn't moved an inch. Michael was still in the exact same position that he had always been in. One muscular fore-arm draped over his eyes as if he was crying and the other relaxed at his side, the palm slightly outstretched as if seeking comfort.

What frightened Cassidy was the secret part of her that was so relieved that he hadn't moved.

But what truly terrified Cassidy was the secret part of her that had badly wanted to see the statue move.

It only took a day for Cassidy to return to normality.
It took a single sleepless night for her to stop thinking frightening thoughts about the angel and to be able to face it once again.

Admittedly, however, she felt somewhat better with Louisa standing behind her as she polished the angel's huge stone wings.
She sprayed another layer of water and liquid soap on to the angel's stone feathers, waiting for the mist to settle before working the mixture into the carved plumage with a soft cloth.

"So the kids were all just screaming and bolting?" the receptionist questioned. "That's so fucking weird."
Cassidy nodded, shrugging. "Leon had a right job trying to get them all back inside the room." She grimaced, shaking her head. "And a right job trying to deal with all of the complaining parents."
"And they were all screaming about the angel having moved?"
"Yes," Cassidy replied, dabbing around the angel's face. "It was probably a trick of the light of some kind. The children are seriously imaginative too. Maybe their imagination games just got a little bit out of hand."

Louisa smirked, stretching and tilting her head at the statue. "Well, there have been a fair few rumours flying around about that statue. Some of the staff swear that they've seen it move since it's been on display." She nudged Cassidy, bubbly as always and her hoop earrings jangling at each step. "In fact, Petra from security swears to the ground that she saw it step down from its podium."

"What a load of bull," Cassidy said, feeling straight away that the words sounded too harsh. She knew that her friend was only trying to sprinkle a little humour on the situation but all the same, she didn't like hearing that other people were claiming to have seen the statue move.
"You know what's a lot of bull? Did you hear what Alex told Richie this afternoon?" Louisa strode up to the statue as she nattered on about some flighty museum gossip. She was about to lean on the statue.
She had no sooner lifted a hand before Cassidy swatted her away. "Oi, not when I've just polished it."

"Oooh," teased Louisa. "A little touchy about that statue, eh?" She caught Cassidy's offending hand playfully. "I'm starting to get worried that angel-boy here is stealing my Cass away from me. Taking all of her atten-…fuck! Cass! Your hands!"
Cassidy squirmed uncomfortably, pulling her hand away from Louisa. "…what about them?"
"They're all red and sore-looking!"
"It's from repairing all of the cracks in the angel's body. The plaster burns sometimes and the stone leaves cuts." She waved it off, pre-empting her companion's misdirected pity. "Don't fret about it though, it's fine."

Louisa arched her brow, her voice softening completely. "Cass…" She paused for a moment before speaking again, her tone rejuvenated and bouncy again. "So what are you wearing for the big night?"
Cassidy grinned as she moved a hand to polish the angel's neck. "The red dress I wore for Petra's birthday night out."
"The one with the roses?" Louisa gushed, grinning. "Oh God, babe, you should definitely wear a red rose in your hair too."
The young archaeologist beamed, running her hand up the angel's neck and up to his strong jaw-bone. "Red roses are my favourite blooms. They're amazing, aren't they?" She smiled. "The flowers that symbolise passion, lust, romance…the colour that symbolises power, danger, ferocity…"
"You kinky little minx," Louisa grinned, mirthfully slapping Cassidy's backside.
"It's not like that at all!" Cassidy protested, laughing. "I'm an archaeologist. I just quite like any use of symbolism."
"Yeah, sure you do, poppet," her friend taunted, grabbing her around the waist and hugging her tightly, pulling her away from the angel and causing her to drop her cloth.
"Louisa!" Cassidy objected but then dissolved into a fit of giggles, realising that struggling was futile when her best friend was in one of her hyper moods. "Could you possibly do my hair for me, for the exhibition, Lou? You know how positively hopeless I am with a curling iron."
"Sure, love. What were you thinking? Up do or down do?"
"You choose for me."
Louisa winked. "How's about you ditch this boring old angel statue for a while and join me for a coffee? I won't take no for an answer!"

Cassidy opened her mouth to dissent but Louisa had already grabbed her around the wrist and dragged her out the door.

"Come on, Cass! He's made of stone! He's not going to mind if I steal you away for a while!"

But the angel did mind.

He had long decided that he did not like it when other filthy human vermin distracted his little human pet and took her attention away from him.
The angel very much liked having a tight hold on his slave's mind and it set rage boiling like molten rock beneath his skin to see other humans fawning over her.
Seeing others touching his little human gave was enough to make him murderously angry.

Somebody else was touching what he had yet to claim but what he had declared his own.
Somebody else was playing with his trinket.
His toy.
"My little slave should not be surrounded by others," he decided. "All of her time and devotion should be to my well-being. Me, the superior being."

He watched the dark-haired female human drag his slave from the room and gave a low chuckle.
As much as it angered him, there was one definite benefit to having his little human surrounded by others.
There was always a meal ready and waiting for him.
And he had decided to have some particular fun with this one.

It was an hour after closing time and two hours before lock-up.

With a pen snugly resting in her hand, pressed against the page of her notebook and headphones resting snugly in her ears, she sat alone in the preparation room, working on her speech.

Cassidy had learned a long time ago that she slept best when listening to music.
It was her mother who had first resorted to leaving the radio on to soothe her five-year-old insomniac to sleep.
Unfortunately, despite having learned this lesson only too well over eighteen years ago, Cassidy still often left her iPod on and in her ears while she was working late at night in a desperate attempt to keep herself awake.

The preparation room felt strangely bare without the angel statue there.
It also felt bizarrely lonely but devoid of the usual paranoia she had started to feel in there. Her finger swirled around the white dial pad of the iPod before finally clicking on the first song that appeared on the screen.

"Close your eyes,
Give me your hand, darling.
Do you feel my heart beating?
Do you understand?"

She found herself lightly murmuring along to the lyrics of the old Bangles tune. Cassidy had never been much of a singer but singing quietly along became a rather automatic reaction. It wasn't long before the printed blue words on the page in front of her started to double, triple- hazing and fazing into each other like phantoms.

"Do you feel the same?
Or am I only dreaming?"

Cassidy felt her eyes become heavier, her shoulders and neck starting to quiver and quake under the weight of her drowsy head.
Only seconds later, the young woman's head was resting on the table, her eyes shut in slumber and her breathing deep and slow.

"Is this burning an eternal flame?"

Her brow furrowed as she slept, feeling as if someone was watching her.

"I believe, it's meant to be, darling."

Soon, she was dreaming.

"I watch you when you are sleeping,
You belong to me.
Do you feel the same?
Or am I only dreaming?"

She dreamt of Michael, of the angel, just as she had for every night since she had found the statue.

"Is this burning an eternal flame?"

She dreamt that Michael's cold, grey skin had turned to smooth flesh. Somehow he had transformed into a living being. For the first time ever, she could see his eyes and though the image never quite stuck in her mind, she knew they were captivating.
In her dream, Michael sat upon a throne, lined with gold and red velvet. She tirelessly had to bring him plates of exotic foods and massive tankards of drink but no matter how much she brought him, he was only hungrier still.
It wasn't long before she collapsed with exhaustion at his feet.
She looked up at the mighty angel in fear, terrified that he would punish her in some way.
Instead, Michael smirked darkly, reaching down and taking her by the chin.

"No weeping, my little pet," he whispered, guiding her to stand and to sit into his lap. "No tears."
He cupped her face and brought her close, his lips only mere centimetres from hers.
"Close your eyes," he commanded her. "Just close your eyes."

Cassidy stirred in her sleep, feeling a terrible heat rise in her face and neck.
"Mmm…"

Suddenly "Eternal Flame" by Bangles came to a sharp and sudden close and the next track on the iPod, "You Give Love a Bad Name" by Bon Jovi tore through her ear canals.
She jerked awake with a start, yawning and stretching, her eyes opening slowly and groggily.

Her heart just about stopped and her whole body seized with terror.
The angel right there, watching her, standing in the open doorway.
Staring at her.
Cassidy let out a scream, blinking hard and vigorously rubbing her eyes.

"Woah, woah, woah…Cass! Are you alright?"
The apprentice archaeologist blinked again, opening her eyes once more.
Where the angel statue had once stood, Omar was now standing. The wiry security guard pointed his torch in the door, looking a little confused.

"H-Hi Omar…"
"You ok, Cass? I heard you scream."
"Yeah, yeah…I'm fine. I just fell asleep at my desk. Had a stupid night terror. I'll be alright."
The security guard nodded, saluting her. "Ah, ok. That's cool. Holler if you actually need anything. Louisa was looking for you by the way. She's down by the exhibits on the fourth floor."

Cassidy thanked Omar and let him set off ahead of her.
She was about to leave herself when her eyes fell upon something new on her desk. Her jaw slackened at the sight of a single red, wild rose laying atop her notes.
Carefully, Cassidy took up the rose and inspected it. It was definitely picked from the wild- laden with thorns and its stem frayed and moist. However, the petals were the most perfect shade of deep red that she'd ever seen.

A smile broke out across her face.
Had Louisa left it there? Or maybe even, Leon?
Whoever had, they had certainly brightened up her day and her little night terror was instantly forgotten.

She rushed off to see her first culprit, grinning from ear to ear when she found her standing on the fourth floor, right next to the room where the angel statue had been on display.

"Hey Lou! Lou! Check out this rose somebody left me! Was it you? You are such a sneaky-…Lou?"

The receptionist had her back turned.
Immediately, Cassidy could feel that something was wrong.

"Lou are you alright?"
She put her hand on her friend's shoulder. "Lou, talk to me. What's up?"

Louisa Fitzhugh turned around, her eyes wide and staring, her lips trembling and her entire body quivering. The young woman looked terrified beyond reason.
Cassidy felt her own legs start to shake.

"L-Louisa. What's the matter? What happened?"

She tried to reach out to touch Louisa's shoulder but her hand was quickly pushed away. Cassidy inhaled sharply; her friend's skin was freezing cold.
Like stone.

"C-Cassidy? Cassidy…I…I…can't…Ten."

"You can't ten?" Cassidy repeated. "What do you mean, Lou?"

Louisa looked to her with a kind of seriousness that didn't suit the young woman's round, usually carefree face. "Cassidy. I…I…heard something coming from inside the exhibition room so I went inside. Nine."

"Nine?"

"I…I…s-saw…the angel…and it was- eight- it…oh God….it looked…it looked…seven."

Cassidy's entire body had stopped working. Her heart was hammering so hard against her ribcage that she was surprised that the bones had shattered yet.

"Louisa, you have to relax. J-Just calm down for a m-moment," she tried her hardest to sound soothing despite her own anxiety, slowly consuming her. "What do you mean? And why are you counting down?"

"S-six…the angel looked right at me…and its eyes…oh fucking Christ, its eyes…I couldn't look away."

Cassidy squeezed the stem of the rose so hard against her palm that the thorns pierced the soft pads of her hand and set her blood dripping in crimson streams, meandering in macabre estuaries along her knuckles. "Why are you counting down, L-Lou?" she repeated.

"I…It did s-something…it…it went inside of me…I tried to…five….I mean, I tried to get away b-but it was always there…"

With her free hand, Cassidy tried to reach out to touch Louisa again, her voice now strangled by pure, undiluted fear of the unknown. "Come on, Lou. W-we have to go somewhere else. L-Let's go and get Omar or one of the other s-security guards and I'll d-drive us h-home. Or you can stay with me tonight…"

Louisa stepped away from her touch, her eyes wide and glassy as she shook her head vigorously, suddenly shaking even more violently than before, her teeth chattering as she spoke.

"Y-you can't d-do anything n-now…Cass…y-you just have to…four…you just have to get away…"

"What? Get away?"

"Three…it's n-n-not what it seems. I-It's never what it s-seems…"

"Louisa! Stop it! Come on! J-Just come with me!"

"Ah! Jesus Christ…it's…it's in my eyes…it's coming for me…and it's coming for you, Cass. D-Don't let y-your guard d-down…two…"

"L-Lou?"

"And w-whatever you do…don't blink…one…"

Louisa fell to the floor, her eyes wide and staring, her body twitching and convulsing before finally laying still.

It wasn't until the security guards were flooding the hallway, Omar grabbing her, shaking her and hugging her, that Cassidy Albright realised that she was screaming.

The song "Eternal Flame" is sung by Bangles and I do not claim ownership of any kind over its (admittedly amazing) lyrics.