Rains that night were wild, as if howling at the skies and earth and chasing winds and shadows. The hammering sound would often be interrupted by a flash of lightning that was much more threatening.
Nesrin wondered what caused such an out of season rain to arrive as she blankly stared at the small key in her hand.
It was a plan iron key.
When Macbeth had taken her hand she left the key. Her cold fingers still left a shadow behind and the way her eyes lost those traces of light still caused Nesrin's heart to be filled with unease.
Nesrin left the door and went back inside.
A cold dread suddenly crawled inside of her as she found the old lady to be nowhere.
Not only that, but the room was absolutely empty.
There was not a single trace of anything. The curtains that once looked shabby but neat were now torn and seemed to be too old and dirty.