"Where the hell am I supposed to find candles?" Erick asked himself as he made his way down the corridor.
Of the five friends, he had been the one most outspoken about anything they did in the manor. It didn't sit right with him that they were essentially trespassing. Nor did it feel right when others, like Mike, Sei and Ryan, talked about finding stuff to take with. For a while, as they discussed exploring, it seemed to Erick Jonathan might come down on his side. But then, predictably in Erick's opinion, Jonathan sided with his older brother, at least about finding candles.
When the party split, Erick had only, begrudgingly, agreed to the whole deal. Sticking with the option to look for candles, he started into the left wing, often asking himself where the hell someone could find candles. Passing more things covered with sheets, he barely glanced at them, noting that the most odd thing was that they looked to have been covered only recently and that there was barely, if any, dust on the sheets. Along the walls he could just barely make out portraits that had been hung. And when lightning flickered across the sky and lit up the corridor, he thought that pictures he could see at that moment looked creepy and outdated by almost a hundred years.
"If not more," he whispered as he passed a double set of large doors.
Not interested in poking about in the rooms, he knew that, eventually, he would have to do so or go back to the main foyer and wait for the others. Considering these where he his two options, Erick stopped and peered ahead. When another flash of lightning lit up the hallway, he could see that he was nowhere near the end and that the corridor appeared to stretch on for a long, long way. Telling himself, "It must be something like an optical illusion," he glanced back the way he'd come and knowing he couldn't be too far from the foyer, he waited for another flicker of lightning, listening to the rain pound heavily on the windows as he did.
When it finally came, Erick was surprised to see that even the way back appeared the same as the way forward, and that it looked like the hallway stretched on forever, with no end in sight. Wondering how such a trick was possible, he peered at the walls and wondered if maybe it was something to do with the way the manor was built. Reasoning that the corridor couldn't be as long as it appeared, that if it was, it would stretch beyond how the manor appeared on the outside, Erick toyed with the idea of turning around. Glancing up and down the hallway, he eventually told himself, "I'll go a bit more. But if I don't see any candles, or find any place that looks like where I could find candles, I'll turn back."
Content with this train of logic, he pressed onward, certain that eventually he'd come to the end of the hall. Outside, he could hear the storm picking up as it began to beat harder against the windows he passed. Glad that he wasn't out in what he guessed was now a torrential downpour, figuring that if he was, he'd be more than merely damp, he stopped abruptly when he noticed a soft light coming from beneath a door. Certain that the place was abandoned, the sixteen year old wondered if there was someone else who might have taken shelter from the storm as he noticed that there was something off about the light he was seeing.
It suddenly came to him that it was that it was moving, Erick's mind flashed to the notion that maybe the old manor was on fire. Not giving it a second thought, he rushed toward the door, placed his hand on the wood and feeling only coolness beneath his hand, pushed the door open. Rushing into the room, not sure what he would do, the teenage boy peered wildly about, searching for the fire he was sure was there.
To his surprise, all he saw was more things covered by sheets, a couple glass oil lamps, the source of the flickering of the light, and a little girl, sitting on the floor in front of a small wooden table. Spread out on the table was a play tea set and set to the left and right of the girl were two plush animals, one white and one black. Thinking that they looked like Gargoyles or Dragons that didn't have wings, Erick's attention was drawn away from the plush when the girl sweetly said, "Hello. Will you play with me? My Dragons and I wouldn't mind if another person came to the party. And, if you didn't want to have tea, we could play pretend and be ballerina princesses."
Wigged out by what was before him, Erick blinked and replied, "Um, where are your parents? Shouldn't you be, like, I dunno, home or something?"
The little girl, who Erick pegged at about six or seven, giggled and told him, "I am home. Daddy is away on, an errand. So it only Brutus and me," before reaching down, picking up a bell, setting it on the table and saying, "I really should ring for Brutus, as you shouldn't be here. However, I shan't do so, if you play with me," as she did so.
Erick glared at the little girl, her threat unmistakable. Not liking that he was being threatened by a kid who had to be about ten years younger, Erick took a step back and babbled, "I shouldn't be here really. My friends and I only came in to get out of the storm and we're looking for candles and though we thought the place was abandoned, I said we should leave. So, I'm just going to do that," as the girl continued to look at him sweetly.
Close to the door, the sixteen year old stopped when the girl, still with the same look on her face, picked up the bell and raised it above her head. Rushing over to the table, Erick tried to stop her by saying, "There's no need for that. Look, we'll have a pretend tea party. Then I'll be going. Okay?"
To his surprise, the girl began to swing the bell about. The sound louder than he had expected, Erick cringed at the sound. Wanting to tell her to stop, he found himself frozen in place as he watched her swing the bell about. Then, as abruptly as she began to ring it, the little girl stopped and set the bell on the table. Slowly sinking into a sitting position, Erick stared numbly at her, listening as she explained, "Brutus should be with us shortly. In the meantime, would you care to sample the tea, Kit?"
Everything happening in a blur, it took Erick a moment before he realised the girl was talking to him. As if from a distance, he could hear himself replying, "My name isn't Kit. It's Erick," to which the girl frowned and petulantly said, "Yes it is to Kit. Your name is Kitridge Whipple, but everyone calls you Kit."
The thought, "This must be part of her game," flashed across Erick's mind as he watched the girl lift up the plastic tea pot, tip it and pretend to pour tea first in her cup, then in her plush friend's cups, and lastly in the teenage boy's cup.
At a lose as to what he was supposed to do, Erick watched as the girl picked up her cup, which he realised looked like an actual china tea cup. Listening as she told him, "My name is Angela Spelstorm. After we have a spot of tea, Kit, we can play dress up as ballerina princesses. Of course I'll have to find something special for you to wear. But it will be no problem. You aren't the first with a tail to play with me."
"Tail?" Erick sputtered, to which Angela merely smiled sweetly and told him, "You'll enjoy the tea. It's fresh made by the maid from the herbs grown in the garden."
Something about this didn't sound right to Erick, almost as if the girl wasn't telling him something. Wanting to inquire what, he glanced down as his hand brushed against the cup and it came to him that it was warm. Seeing that it was filled with a dark brown beverage that had steam coming off it, the teenage boy thought, "This is too weird. Even for me," and glancing at Angela, torn between wanting to demand answers and asking to be excused, he nearly screamed when he heard heavy footsteps from somewhere within the room.
Angela, still smiling sweetly, didn't appear to be bothered by the sound. Instead, she continued to pretend to sip daintily at her tea as the footsteps drew closer. And upon seeing it was the biggest, hairiest, man he'd even seen, Erick pushed himself back, alarmed when the little girl said, "Brutus. I have guests. Would you be a dear and fetch us something to eat. Something that would go with our tea."
The "man", for Erick was no longer certain it was, but that it was some type of gorilla, squinted at the teenage boy for a moment before slowly nodding and, in a deep raspy voice, responded with, "Right away," before turning away and lumbering back the way he'd come.
"This is too much," Erick thought as he watched Angela continue to sip her tea. Wanting to flee, he wasn't sure he could get far if Brutus came after him. His mind leaping from idea to idea, none of which seemed realistic, Erick eventually found himself wondering if maybe, for the time being, he should humour the little girl and play with her until he found an appropriate time to slip away.
When Brutus returned with a tray of little sandwiches, the teenage boy watched the gorilla-man set them on the table, step back and inquire, "Will there be anything else," in his deep, raspy voice.
Still at a loss, the teenage boy listened as Angela dismissed Brutus with the words, "No thank you. If I need anything, I'll ring," and watching as the butler squinted at him, then lumbered off, Erick made his decision on what to do. He drew closer to the table, reached down, lifted the tea cup and blowing on it like his aunt did, he sipped at the warm liquid.