Hallow House - Part One

A house built for love and cursed with death. Two children, one will live, one will die. Magic potions and secret rooms. Is there a curse or does evil reside with innocence. What is the real secret of Hallow House?

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Death is a human condition, Vera reminded herself as she continued on to Delores' room. All old houses have seen death. There's nothing to be afraid of. No one could be in the room except Sergei and she was determined to roust him from his hiding place. But when she turned on the light in Delores' room and the red-shaded bulbs threw shadows into all the corners, she paused in the doorway. Her nape prickled and she understood what Blanche and Geneva had felt. The very room itself seemed malignant. Perhaps she should wait.

Vera took a deep breath. No. If Sergei was in this room she must find him and discover what he knew about Johanna's disappearance. It was even possible the baby was with him now, drugged into unnatural sleep for some reason Vera didn't want to know.

Heart thudding in her chest, she began searching the room, trying to ignore the creepy sensation of unseen eyes watching her. She found the closet door partly open. Remembering the long red robe and the dresses still hanging inside, she pushed reluctantly at the partially ajar door, opening it all the way. Feeling for a light switch inside, she flicked it on but nothing happened. A burnt out bulb? Again she hesitated, not liking to enter the dark closet. The overhead lights weren't bright enough to penetrate the gloom in side the room, much less the closet. What she needed was a flashlight. But that would mean a delay while she searched for one. In the meantime, if Sergei was here, he might flee.

Vera stepped inside the closet, feeling her way among filmy dresses that clung to her fingers like spiderwebs. She ran her hand along the row of clothes and, at the very end, had the odd sensation that a velvet rove had moved away from her searching fingers, As, alarmed, she started to retreat, a whirlwind of motion threw her to the floor and she cracked her head against the doorjamb as she fell. Bright specks floated in the darkness, her head swam, she imagined she heard a voice.

"...knife," the voice said. "An athame, of course, though you won't know what that means."