Chapter 8. Ghost Wall

"…Are you alright?"

Jules halted at these words, throwing a pointed glare at Bastien. The dark look in his eyes spoke volumes, as did his colorless lips and pale skin.

"Sorry I asked," the demon coughed. "Do you need a rest?"

With an annoyed sigh, Jules responded by tilting his head toward his sister. The teenager was currently skipping and giggling, pretty much looking like the happiest girl in the world. There was no need to be a genius to know she wouldn't accept to take a break, not anytime soon at least.

"..."

The demon cleared his throat and averted his eyes, pretending he never asked.

"But if you do want to be helpful, how about standing on your own?" Jules scoffed, not letting the man off the hook. "You're not exactly light."

"Trust me, I'd love to," Bastien answered with a self-loathing laugh, tightening his grip around Jules's slender waist. "But I'm still feeling a little weak, so mind lending me your shoulder for a bit longer?"

If he were to walk on his own, Bastien would be no better than a newborn fawn. He had no strength left, his limbs feeling as heavy as iron, and his balance was off. Even now, while using most of Jules's body as a crutch, he swayed on his feet.

"For goodness sake, it has been almost two hours since you fed on that thing," Jules grunted through gritted teeth. "How come you still need my help?"

"Well, the jiangshi is a little harder to digest than expected."

"A little, huh?"

"All right, a lot harder."

Jules snorted, and then silence fell between the two. Neither tried to break it, though. Instead, they perked up their ears, their attention fully focused on their surroundings. The ominous feeling twisting their guts was growing stronger, leaving them no time to squabble.

It had been too calm since a while back. And stillness was never a good sign.

They could not pinpoint when it started exactly, but now, not even their footsteps echoed in the silent corridor, and their voices sounded muted. All was eerily quiet.

"This Haunted House sure is big," Melody whispered, gripping Iris's jacket. Her voice was a little raspy, strained by all the screaming. "How many more rooms are there left?"

"What? Don't tell me you've already had enough?" Annabelle whined, her long eyelashes fluttering.

"It's not that... I just would like to know."

"There shouldn't be many left," Iris shrugged. "We went through a dozen already, and the manor can only have so many rooms."

"Yeah, you're right…." Melody paused to lick her dry lips. "But isn't the corridor a bit too long? We've been walking for a while already, and there's still no door in sight."

"Now that you say it…."

The teenagers frowned, a pensive look on their faces. They were walking in a straight line, yet the corridor appeared infinitely long. It wouldn't feel as weird if it twisted left and right, confusing their senses; however, it didn't.

So how come they could not see nor reach the end?

Bastien and Jules shared a glance, both wondering what kind of lie they could come up with this time. They had entered a ghost wall, and unless they found where the ghost hid and got rid of it, they would wander in this corridor forever, where time and space were distorted. Whether they walked forward or backward, they were stuck in a loop and could not escape.

To make matters worse, the girls would figure out something was off if they didn't find their way out soon. But they had to locate the ghost first to break the ghost wall, or else they could do nothing. The two men had a hunch it was lurking in one of the antic mirrors that hung on the wall, observing them from its hiding spot. Only, there were thousands and pinpointing the right mirror was like looking for a needle in a haystack.

Even when they scrutinized the glasses, all they could see in the end was themselves, though their reflections were but a dark silhouette. The candlelight barely illuminated the place, obscuring everything. What stood out then was their eyes, two white spots lost in the middle of a gloomy face.

Jules squinted, suspiciously sizing up his reflection. If there was one thing he hated, it was haunted mirrors; the ghosts inside could barely be felt, and often only at the last second. They took on the shape of the people passing by, imitating their movement to perfection. It made it near impossible to predict where and when they would ambush.

Whenever Jules saw their reflections follow along, his muscles tensed and he held his breath. But until now, it had been only false alarms. It was just them and them alone.

God was it bad for his nerves.

Honestly, he'd love to shatter all the mirrors, regardless of whether they were haunted or not. However, that was not a realistic plan. He could not just break the mirror and be done with it. No, he had to wrap his spiritual energy around the frame like a spider web and crush the glass to dust, lest the thing lurking in its depths escaped, hopping to another mirror.

Unfortunately, his spiritual energy wasn't endless, and the past two hours had already taken his toll on him. So unless Jules wanted to deplete it, he could only put aside the idea. If only Cains were with them, getting out of here would have been a piece of cake. But the man wasn't and he had to find a way out by himself.

Jules had never thought he could miss his colleagues so much until today.

Time ticked by, and after a short while, the teenagers shrugged off their uncertainties and went back to strolling around, much to the men's displeasure. Often, they would stop to take funny poses in front of the mirrors and laugh at each other, oblivious to the dangers. Again, the sight made Jules's blood rush to his head and throb at his temples. He had a feeling his poor heart wouldn't be able to handle it much longer.

"Don't you ever get tired of looking at yourself?" he groaned, the corner of his eyes twitching. "Trust me, you're the prettiest girls on earth, so how about walking forward?"

"Gosh, what's wrong with you today?" Annabelle rolled her eyes, crossing her arms before her chest. "Can you stop nagging for two seconds?"

"Nagging is our privilege as big brothers," Bastien winked, propping his chin on Jules's shoulder. "Big brothers just love to pester their little sisters. It's a universal law."

"…Tsk."

The teenager pouted, mumbling something under her breath about how bothersome big brothers were. Still, she stopped fooling around and went back to walking. Her friends followed along, trailing behind her like little ducklings.

But not even a few seconds later, Melody stopped dead in her tracks, staring at a peculiar mirror.

It was a wide adult-sized mirror, the frame made of bronze. A thin layer of rust adorned the edges, and though it didn't have many details carved in, it was gorgeous. Perhaps, it was due to the simple but beautiful design, which stuck out among the other vintage mirrors.

Noticing their friend wasn't moving, Annabelle and Iris turned around and curiously tilted their heads. That was when they fell upon the mirror and met eyes with their reflections.

Time seemed to halt, then everything spiraled out of control.

Once their eyes met, Annabelle saw her reflection take a step forward, a smile stretching her lips until the skin cracked at the corner of her mouth. Madness distorted her face, turning her delicate features into a mess.

The teenager blinked. What the…?

Not letting her the time to think, the shadow brought her hands to her throats and slowly squeezed, blood gathering in the white of her eyes. Her smile grew wider, slitting her cheeks, and thick, yellowish liquid trickled down. The sickening sight made Annabelle's stomachs churn, and all of a sudden, the haunted house wasn't so fun anymore.

Revulsed, she thought of leaving and that was when she realized she could not move, frozen in place. She thought of opening her mouth to call for help, and she realized she had no voice left. Finally, she knew. Her body no longer listened to her, no longer belonged to her.

And yet, Annabelle could not understand what was going on, her thoughts in disarray.

"Die," a voice similar to hers said in her mind, echoing inside her head like a broken record. "Die with me."

As if to substantiate the words, the teenager could not breathe anymore, the air stuck in her throat like a lump. Her eyes widened as fear crept up on her and reality crashed down. She tried to struggle, to force her body to move, but it was to no avail. Desperate, Annabelle tried to call out to her brother by her side, only to remember her voice was gone. Jules was so close, yet he stood still, unaware of her predicament. Same for her friends.

It was driving her crazy.

Slowly, the burning sensation in her throat crawled down to her lungs, setting them ablaze with pain. It was as if a fire burned in her rib cage. Helpless, she could only wait for it to consume her flesh until nothing was left, not even ashes.

...Was she really going to die?

The dreadful thought swirled in her head as her heartbeat increased at an alarming rate, making it all the more difficult to breathe. Annabelle didn't want to die, she wanted to live. 'Please,' she silently begged, 'I don't want to die. Jules, I don't want to die!'

But no matter how much she prayed, nothing changed. She was dying.

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Edited by Val & Iseul!

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