Dark Mansion

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Dark Mansion

 

She ran through the hallways, she ran through the corridors.

She ran through kitchens, through dining rooms, ballrooms, dressing rooms, each with their own imperfect furniture haunting her as she ran.

            She peeked over her should once, panting as she did so, the fury and rush of motion distorting her focus and panoramic view of the terrible mansion behind her, in front of her, and all around her.

            She couldn’t get out.

            She stopped, heaving, taking in breaths of mucky, dirty, dusty air.  She realized she was seeing stars, blacking out, just as she caught her breath.  Hands on both knees, she regained a little bearing.

            How had she gotten in here?

            She couldn’t remember.

            Why was she running?

            She didn’t know.

            What was this place?

            She wasn’t able to recount anything except running.  Running in this ancient, dark mansion.

 

            She sat, and tried to see through the stillness that lay before her.

            It wasn’t completely dark in there, she realized she could pick out tiny features in the walls, ceilings and floors.