Scratches on the door

“Ada? Grahams?” she called in worry on her way to the kitchen, carrying her gown’s heavy hoop.

She reached the kitchen, but there seem to be no problem, no commotion, or any noise. Complete silence. Then what was it? Was it an imagination? Her chest could leap out of her corset after running down the stairs, she needs to calm down her breathing. She stayed for a while to listen for another sound, but none.

In loss of patience, she walked out the kitchen when a loud noise surprised her to the core. It sure sounded near. But it was not coming from the kitchen. The sound was clearer and louder on the, with the strange carving, beside the kitchen.

As another loud thrumming sound made her jolt and soul almost arose from her body, she turned to look away from the noise, and she was more surprised on the appearance of Ada before her.

“Ada!!” she clenched on her chest.

“Madam? Are you feeling sick?”

“No, I-I was—” she stuttered, almost stumbling on the floor if not for Ada catching her arm.

“Let us head to your chamber, madam” she escorted Lilith back to her room.

The thirty-steps stair was a struggle for them to reach to her room, but Grahams went to help Ada and Lilith up the stairs. They made sure Lilith is in a comfortable position on her bed before they walk away.

“I will be sending your lunch here, madam”

“Have you two… Heard a loud noise earlier?”

“I’m afraid we did not, madam” Graham answered.

“Please have a rest, madam” she closed the door of her room as they went on their way.

Lilith fell into a deep slumber. At twelve midnight, something cold, a faint breeze swept by her hair and at that slightest touch woke her up. Still in her gown, her waist was tortured by the metal hoops of the petticoat. She was grumpy getting up.

Her head began to feel as if being hammered and drilled sideways, “Gah, my head” she grunted.

On her right, laid a plate of chicken thigh and a soup, tea kettle and ceramic cup on the bedside table. She had skipped the lunch, since the moon was seen big from the window, perhaps this one is for dinner. Gosh, she slept all morning. Is that how badly her headache was? Although her head was heavy, her forehead is not coffee-warm, it cannot be a fever.

Medicine, in case it worsens.

But Lilith does not know where the medicine could be. Now, she remembered refusing Graham's on the mansion tour earlier, the sudden rush of regret came boiling on her body. “I should have continued earlier, ugh”, she pressed her thumb on her head in a circular motion.

Lilith wandered once more, in her state, she could stumble and fall in her walk, she leaned on the wall, her ballooned shoulder gown could almost scrape the wallpapers in the hallway as she stagger to walk.

“Ada?” she called out. “Grahams?”

She went straight to the kitchen, after landing her last step on the staircase. Still dragging her shoulder on the wall. Before she takes a turn to enter the kitchen area, a sudden urge made her look on the door next to the kitchen. Unlike earlier, it does not seem to be making any noise now. Perhaps it was really her imagination that played tricks on her. Perhaps because she was feeling ill. She held to that thought and continued entering the kitchen.

By the time she took a step in the kitchen, a loud thud made the walls look thin. Behind the strange door, beside the kitchen room, something unknown disturbs her. Her curiosity is rising to her interest. Maybe because it is dark out with less light than earlier, but the sound it made creeped to the ends of her hair.

Now her curiosity surfaced, she could no longer contain the anonymity of where the sound is coming from, to end the debate of whether it was an imagination playing tricks in her mind or not. She wanted to know, she needed to know.

She moved closer to this door to examine the wooden door, but it was too dark. She went to grab the nearest torch lamp in the house that hang on the wall. She drew closer to the door and bent her knees to illuminate the strangely unique design on the door.

They were not carvings. It looked like scrapes on the lower part of the door. Odd enough as it is, there were four-mark scratch, it created an illusion of a beast-like claw. Or is it? She traced the marks with her hand. Although it fits to her hand, but a single mark was missing. As she outlined her hand on the scratch, the ring fingernail did not leave a trace of graze on the door.

It is surely a scratch of a woman with long nails, or perhaps from desperation. But what made the person dug their nails so deep on the door? Lilith’s head began to throb again.

The pain was agonizing, as if there were worms feasting her brain and squirming around her head. Then again, the same noise made Lilith shaken, losing her grip on the torch, falling and radiates on the end of the door. She sat on the floor, perplexed of the unexplainable drawing scratch on the door, her face crumpled when the screeching noise began, it added pain to her headache as the wavering horizontal scratch slowly surfaced on the door, without a hand making it. The door is being scarred. The screeching noise ended as the claw mark stopped.

There was a scratch but no hand.

Her mind was knotted by this situation. Another mark was added to the door. She surely had her hands to herself. The mark could not be from Lilith.

She was nauseated, her sweat started to turn ice-cold. Maybe she could not fathom the scratches, but the sight of it sent excruciating pain in her head. She could slowly fall asleep on the floor, sleep-off the ache, but she tried to stay awake.

“Ada, Grahams...” her eyes wobble awake, fighting the urge of the sweet spell of the night; sleep.

Her vision became blurry, to the sight of Ada running to her, on the floor.