Tap.
I swallowed, a pooling dread filling my stomach.
With trembling hands, I pulled the drawer fully open. Inside, wrapped in a scrap of muslin cloth, lay a small silverlocket, its surface tarnished, but lovingly polished in spots as though touched often.
My pulse roared in my ears as I opened it.
Inside lay a single coil of hair—not Lydia’s golden locks, but a thick, ribbon bound, bundle of jet-black hair that curled slightly at the ends.
I knew that hair.
I had touched it. Kissed it. Had it tangled between my fingers in the dark only hours ago.
It was nearly identical to Sylum’s.
Could it be?
My breath caught as I stared at it, twisting the strand between my fingers.
“Why would she have this? Unless…“
Something rattled behind me.
I spun.
The bed had shifted. Perhaps only an inch, but enough that its wooden foot scraped across the floorboards.
And that’s when I heard it.
Th-thump
My vision tunneled as the room began to swell and contract with each sound. “Stop,” I pleaded. “Please stop.”
But the sound only grew louder.
Thump-thump, thump-thump
I could feel it vibrating through the soles of my feet. Just like Lydia’s body earlier. Just like the shrouded sheet rising and falling. Just like theheart that refused to stop.
“Stop it!” I cried, not sure if I was speaking to the sound, or myself, or whatever phantom haunted this house. “Stop it! Stop it!”
Poe circled wildly, crying out above me.
“Darkness there and nothing more! NOTHING MORE!”
His voice broke into frantic caws as he tried to calm me, but I couldn’t focus on his words. The room began to bend until it felt that I was falling.
The heartbeat pounded. The crying returned, louder, closer, like someone sobbing against my ear.
My feet moved before my thoughts could catch up. I stumbled as I tore through the corridor, my breath slicing in ragged bursts, the locket clutched so firmly in my hand that the metal dug crescents into my skin. The walls pitched and swayed with every step, my vision smearing like wet paint. Poe fluttered frantically above my shoulder, croaking warnings in broken verse.
“Thing of evil! Thing of evil! Two shadows! One bone! One bone!”
I should have listened to his warning, but fear had devoured all reason. I simply kept running. The manor twisted under my feet, long and endless, until I rounded a corner too sharply and slammed into something solid.
Hands steadied my elbows roughly as if inconvenienced.
“Lucy?”
