A Howl In The Night by Lorelei Sutton (life books to read .txt) 📕

"I agree," he whispers back, "but that doesn't mean that we should turn back. Let's be brave... together."

So sweet of you to accept my invitation.

I squeeze his hand, the warmth spilling over, and start to walk on the brick pathway. This castle doesn't exactly have a moat, but a plethora of trees, lining the pathway to the point where its boundaries are almost impenetrable. Darkness and shadows fill the area, and I find it hard to see. Clinging to Xavier's arm, I try to watch for sudden tremors or movements.

I can feel the other's nervous attitudes emanating as we reach a few steps that lead to some kind of door. It is near impossible for us to even make out the doorknob because of the scarcity of light. When we finally find the knob, however, the door swings open very easily.

I've been waiting.

"What the..." Wes murmurs as a huge, elaborate room greets our eye. Although lit only by the natural light flooding through the windows and a few candles, we can tell that the inside is more opulent than the outside. There are nice bookcases, furry rugs, elegant chairs and a grand chandelier hanging from the ceiling. However, there also seems to be a mix of old and new fashioned items, which is very strange. For example, in one side of the room is a corded telephone, and on the other side there is a wide screen TV. I balk at the contrasts displayed within the room.

We all enter and stare at the many items placed throughout the room. There are also several doors lining the walls, each hopefully leading to a different room. Although before the whispers were bearable, it is at this point that the voices are almost to the screams that Jake spoke of. It pounds at my head, the impeding headache overwhelming my thoughts. For some reason, I feel compelled to keep walking to the North end of the room, and then farther East. Xavier's hand slips from mine, which immediately throws me off of my concentration.

"Xavier?" I ask shakily, my voice wobbling as I notice that several candles had been blown out. Either there is no response, or I simply cannot hear it due to the clamoring of voices. "Danae? Jake?" I call, to be left only with an echo.

The inside seems to get darker as I get increasingly nervous. "Anyone? Yi? Wes? Griffin?"

The silence that accompanies the strange voices makes me feel inwardly cold and wary. I feel a fear unlike most that I have ever experienced in my life. It is the fear of impending doom, looming over me like a tidal wave, threatening to wash away everything in my life that I hold dear.

Walking over to the faint outline of a door where the voices seem to be the strongest, I place my hand on the doorknob. Although scared out of my mind, I can't seem to stop myself from turning it and finding out what could possibly be at the source. I feel like this is it. I'm... getting closer.

The door opens just as easily as the first, but I barely have time to look inside before I am startled by... a mirage. An illusion. A fantasy. A fairy tale.

No one is coming for you.

A foreign voice reaches my ears, high-pitched and extremely shrill, and it takes a second for me to realize that the scream is my own.

And then everything turns black.

The sound of a crackling fire is the first thing I notice when my eyes open. The light aroma of cinnamon wafts throughout the room, although tainted by a heavy premonition that I can't seem to shake, even if I can't quite remember the reason for that mysterious feeling.

I blink once, twice, attempting to consolidate the whirl of colors into something that more closely resembles solid objects. Just to convince myself that I'm not crazy, I bang my head against the floor, and then woozily roll onto my back.

"Ouch, that must have hurt," a low chuckle erupts as my vision settles on long strands of brown hair that are hanging around my face. Still a little dizzy, I let my hand brush against the hair, and then eventually a firm chin, tracing down his jawline and neck. As if just realizing my actions, I let my arm drop and my mouth open as I finally register who the person leaning precariously over me is.

"Ray?" I ask him, my hand reflexively reaching back up to touch his cheek.

"After fainting at the sight of me, I thought your reaction might be a little different. Looks like I was wrong." He smiles weakly, and something about the exhaustion in his expression makes me feel uneasy.

I sit up, peering around the room. I remember now... Ray was sitting at that dark ebony desk over in that corner, writing something on a strange notepad when I opened the door. As soon as I took my next step he almost immediately lifted his head and looked at me, his eyes glowing with a strange intensity, as if he had been expecting my arrival. I thought he had been a ghost.

The many bookshelves lining the walls are cast with an eerie glow from both the small candles scattered throughout the room and the fire in the elegant hearth. The carpet seems to grasp at my ankles as I slide towards the wall, trying to gather the strength to push myself to my feet. "Ray," I ask, my voice wobbly, "what are you doing here? Aren't you hurt? Where are the others?"

He raises one finger to my lips, and I inwardly quiver with uncertainty. "Too many questions at once." Standing up, he offers his hand to me. As I look at him from below, something seems off about his appearance. It isn't necessarily that he doesn't look haggard, or even the slightest bit injured. The problem is that he looks too... calm. Like he knows something that I don't.

"Answer me, Ray," I say as I accept his help, stumbling to my feet. "Where's the rest of the group? They disappeared earlier... and how long was I out? Why didn't you try to wake me up?"

"Mona, please," he replies, his eyes gentle. "Don't act so freaked out. They are all fine. And you weren't unconscious for very long. It was only a few minutes. I was waiting for you to regain a little bit of your color back. You lost almost all of it when you saw me."

"Oh, okay." I breathe heavily, leaning against the bookcase. After catching sight of the plentiful cobwebs lining the corners, I back away and sit haphazardly on the back of a large sofa that was facing the fireplace instead. "You have a lot of explaining to do. How... do you know the others are fine?"

An unfathomable expression flickers across Ray's face. He blinks a few times and then turns his head as if to shake himself out of something. When he looks back at me, he is gently smiling, making the past few moments seem like a mirage.

"A gut feeling, I guess." He chuckles softly, although not quite convincing me of his optimism.

Ray turns and walks over to the fireplace. He grabs a steel rod and starts to prod at the flickering flames, tending the fire. The side of his face is illuminated by the weak light, making it seem distorted. At the same time, I can still sense a comforting familiarity in his face and body to the Ray I know so well.

"Is something wrong?" I ask him, sliding around on the sofa so that I am facing him. "You seem strange."

"Do I?" He asks, his voice a little deeper than normal. As he utters those words, he stops suddenly, clears his throat, and then awkwardly fingers the rod in his hand. "I guess I do feel a little strange. But in a good way. Don't worry about it."

He turns to me, finally, and I notice a lack of symmetry, almost like a trick of the light, in his facial features. "We should be talking about you right now. How do you feel?" His eyes meet mine, and then veer to the right, sweeping across the rows of books.

"Fine, I guess." I shrug, trying to evaluate my mood. Besides a dark feeling in the pit of my stomach, my body seems fine. It's not what I'm concerned about either. "I mean, I'm really worried about the others. How did you reach the castle, Ray? Are the Shifters keeping you prisoner here?"

"No. Well, yes. It's complicated," he replies slowly, clearly trying to conceal any emotion. He carefully leans the rod against the wall and starts walking towards me. My heartbeat quickens as he reaches the chair across from where I am sitting. He lowers himself into the seat, crossing one leg over the other, and his mouth moves as he whispers something to himself.

"What do you mean...?" A myriad of thoughts are swirling around in my head, and none of them make any sense. Things are just not adding up, and the pressure of this room is starting to swallow me home.

"I'm afraid that I haven't been completely honest with you, Mona." Ray's voice is soothing, contrasting with the gravity of his words. "It's like most interactions I've had throughout my life... so deeply intertwined with lies that I can't even tell you what is true anymore. If any of it can even be counted as such."

"What do you mean?" I ask him, frightened by his strange demeanor. It looks like he is battling with himself, with his right eye twitching slightly and his hands shaking. The pit in my stomach grows to consume my whole body, and I nervously rub my nails against each other.

"Where do I even begin?" He asks himself, throwing his head towards the ceiling. The inner debate seems to continue for quite a while. Finally, he decides on something, lowering his head to meet my gaze.

"To be honest, this is my prison. It has been, for quite a while." He casts a glance across the dark walls, clearly disdainful of his surroundings. "It's a pretty impressive prison though, I must say. There are some interesting rooms scattered around here. Would you like to take a quick look at some of them?"

He stands up, offering his hand to me. Narrowing my eyes, I cautiously take it, letting go as soon as I am on my feet. His palm felt as hard and cold as ice, and I can't help but wonder how that could possibly be when he was so close to the fire only moments ago.

I follow him to the door, not quite knowing what to think as he slowly twists the doorknob. As the door swings open, the main hallway appears again before my eyes, still darkened by the eternal night streaming through the glass windows. The silence prevails throughout the room as we walk onto the carpet, leaving a stinging sensation in my chest.

"No electricity?" I ask, desperate for some hint of normalcy within all of these events.

He laughs in response,