Whispering Walls

It was rusted.

Too small to belong to any door.

But there was a trapdoor under her bed, a hard slab of iron sealed shut since forever―something she could never temper with despite how much she tried.

There was also a piece of paper wrapped around the key.

Alyssane frowned a little, her gaze uncertain and conflicted as she picked it. The ink was half smudged from the grease but the two words were still coherent.

Don't panic.

'What…?'

There had not been a flicker of panic before, but now Alyssane was uneasy as she read the note again.

A soft ache settled in her heart.

She could still feel rough hands on her skin as they tore off her clothes, stripped her bare, and shoved her into a frozen lake. They thought it would be fun to see her sneeze and shiver. 

They did not know Alyssane was unable to swim.

But Johanna did, she knew all her secrets, and she said nothing.

'Do you care for me now?' 

'Well, it changes nothing.'

Nonetheless, Alyssane took one of the candles and crouched near the edge of her bed. The trapdoor was painted to resemble the shade of the dark floor. 

'Perhaps, she just wants this ordeal to end.'

If the prime suspect were to go missing, the knights would surely focus on finding her first. 

The trapdoor opened with a heavy groan.

Alyssane pulled the door open, her hands trembled under its weight. But then there was a gust of old wind caressing her skin, and she forgot all the strains for a moment.

She carefully descended into the darkness. The stairs were cold and narrow, covered with hardened dust that scrapped against her bare feet.

The stairs ended in a long tunnel.

'This might not end well.' 

Alyssane was not used to wandering into places so closed and confined, places forgotten for years. Everyone knew the forests were plagued with wretched beasts, but who was to know what awaited in the abandoned darkness?

Rats. Snakes. Scorpions. 

Corpses. 

There could be anything.

Her steps made no sound and she heard no sound as she kept walking. The light of the candle barely illuminated the darkness and somehow, the wind had vanished. 

Alyssane came across a few turns, more tunnels, more stairs. But there was no end to it, there were no doors and no openings in the walls.

But faint whispers seeped through the wall.

Barely discernable.

'Johanna, do you even know where you have sent me?'

Alyssane ignored the voices and kept walking, however, her gaze lingered over the neverending carvings of ancient runes that spread endlessly across the walls. 

'Something is strange about these stones…' 

Alyssane realized, remembering the lores about hidden tunnels carved out to pry onto secret conversations or find about sinister schemes.

It seemed as if there were tunnels connecting every chamber and every corner of the manor. But there was no second door.

She was weary from walking so much while she was only half healed, and yet it availed nothing. Frustration clenched her heart like a restless storm.

'Where did the wind come from?'

'What the hell is wrong with this place?'

And for a moment she wondered if it was all a wretched lie, perhaps there was no escape through the tunnels.

The shadows grew darker.

Alyssane slowed down, her gaze clouded by the haze of exhaustion. Everything about the tunnels suddenly started to feel more and more suffocating.

She hardly remembered her way back to the room.

There were too many turns and too much darkness. Too many whispers, too many voices.

'What if the knights are already looking for me?'

Alyssane's hands trembled as she clenched them into a fist and swiftly retraced her steps. The flame of the candle extinguished. She felt like teetering over a lake with thin ice, one wrong moment would plunge her down.

The voices shifted.

Her weary steps only took her so far before disturbing sounds pierced through the faint whispers, distant screams of rage and terror.

There was no end to them.

'Are they really torturing everyone?'

'But there are children… and so many innocents…'

And suddenly, she could not bear the thought of simply escaping. A numbing ache flared through her heart, her mind returned to the night of the murder, the fractured glimpses of an ominous nightmare, and the chasm in her memories.

'What if I am to blame for everything?'

Alyssane closed her eyes, forcing her thoughts to be calm.

But they were in a storm of restlessness.

And soon, they found him.

The knight she knew would be her death.

He had risked his life for her without a second thought. Who would be so reckless for a stranger? But even as he did so, Alyssane could not forget the way unsettling darkness had shadowed his eyes.

'Should I have faith in your kindness or your cruelty?'

The ache grew worse as she glanced at the white bandages around her wrist. 

'Do I believe in what my mind knows or what my heart longs?'

No one else had gone that far for her.

No one ever cared.

But in the end, Alyssane was confined to a chamber―saved but starved, mostly neglected. The painful sounds and Johanna's words were all she knew. 

'Everything is so confusing.'

'What should I do?'

Amidst the faint whispers, she heard her name. 

Alyssane's heart skipped a beat as she moved closer to the wall, and a faint scent of spices brushed her senses. It must be the kitchen.

"...tired of it." Someone grumbled, "Eight fucking days! Have they even checked if she is dead or alive?"

The other voice was too low to be heard.

"Why must I cook four times every day for someone who doesn't even eat!"

Alyssane frowned, she had thought they said her name. But it seemed like they were talking about someone else.

She was about to move away but then she heard something more.

"That woman is crazy. Why won't these knights understand?"

"I know we have no choice. But why can't they just make her eat if they want her alive?"

The voice grew fainter, they were leaving the room.

"Our poor Miss. Johanna had to return with the untouched meal again this evening…"

Confusion clouded Alyssane's thoughts. Johanna had brought her dinner, hadn't she? What were they even talking about?

'Is the cook lying to someone?'

He was a man of gossip.

It felt like forever had gone by before Alyssane found the trapdoor to her room again. She tensely climbed the stairs.

The trapdoor was heavier to push from the stairs, it was even harder this time because she was growing hungry again.

But Alyssane managed to climb out of the trapdoor.

No one was in her room.

She let out a quiet exhale and carefully closed the iron slab. However, her gaze paused over the key. It was slightly twisted.

There were faint scratches around the keyhole that were not there before.

Alyssane hesitantly touched the key to lock the door, but it was completely stuck and refused to move no matter how much she tried.

Her hands became cold at the realization.

'Who would do this?'