shelley_winters (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
shelley_winters) wrote2006-10-24 10:21 pm
shelley_winters) wrote2006-10-24 10:21 pm
(no subject)
It is several hours before Shelley gets bored of glaring at walls.
Not that she only glared. She walked about, examining the place, and mentally criticising the furnishings. Well, if he's determined to stick to monochrome, he should be prepared for that.
He still keeps knives in the drawers. She looks at one for a long while before carefully closing it again and stepping away to look out of the window instead.
But a long while after it had grown dark, her irritation is finally directed more specifically - namely at the fact that she is stuck in here. So the girl heads defiantly for the door, peering out before heading into the corridor to find her own room.
Not that she only glared. She walked about, examining the place, and mentally criticising the furnishings. Well, if he's determined to stick to monochrome, he should be prepared for that.
He still keeps knives in the drawers. She looks at one for a long while before carefully closing it again and stepping away to look out of the window instead.
But a long while after it had grown dark, her irritation is finally directed more specifically - namely at the fact that she is stuck in here. So the girl heads defiantly for the door, peering out before heading into the corridor to find her own room.
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The sound of a dry whisper, like a wind among broken glass, a voice from a far room, dying with a dying fall.
...There you are...
The glint of empty eyes, like dying stars.
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Shelley stumbles against the footstool, but pulls herself upwards, eyes frantically darting around the room, unable to take proper notice of the silent, half-dead figures.
She keeps backing away until she hits a figure behind her, and lets go of the necklace in shock as arms wrap around her tightly.
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The shadows stretching along the floor quivered, and then disappeared.
A moment later, the sound of bodies hitting the ground, before a soothing voice spoke.
"You are safe."
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Just like he tried to teach her.
"...Who were they? And- I couldn't see them. What are they?"
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"They are the Grey Men. They are difficult to detect because they have no souls. We have never quite been able to figure out why."
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"...Oh. Right."
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"There will be more, I suspect. Graendal always was thorough. Let us find Vashti and leave the house."
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She doesn't really want to go anywhere other than home, but the idea of seeing more is not a pleasant one.
"Where are we going?"
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"I have a small residence in the mountains, I think we can visit. There is snow in the mountains this time of year."
Releasing her shoulder, he stepped forward to look down the hall.
"We will need to be very careful as we go. Even I cannot see them all that effectively."
Silently and without really looking at her, he offered a hand out to her.
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She doesn't want to die.
But more, she doesn't want to face that almost-person again, and feel her gaze and notice slip away even as they raise a knife...
She shivers.
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I win again
Peering into the hall carefully, Ishamael frowned at the eerie twilight as the moonlight sifted through the curtains.
"Let us go, Lady Shelley."