Prologue

 

Prologue

Mesmerized at the very thought of disappearing in to what Ella called a house; Ada sniffed the air around her as if danger was a fragrance detectable to humans. Ridiculous, she thought, could she really be this stupid, this reckless, this illogical as to attempting such a daring, outlandish idiocy. Ada swerved her head from side to side, analyzing her surroundings, drinking in the scene of a gothic garden, basked in the moonlight. Ivy twines reveled beneath her feet, snowdrops stood solitary from one another, drooping quietly, as if they were white soldiers braving the winter elements weeping for the loss of sunlight. White and black rose bushes guarded the land, declaring the boundaries with their threatening thorns. Wild trees of all sorts rose into the velvet sky, hindering what little light the moon and stars could offer. The reminiscent sweet aroma of last summer’s gooseberries and bilberries filled the night air as Ada inhaled another breath of the chilling mist trying to calm her over-analytical brain.  

Gazing up at the monstrosity of the Victorian mansion Ada began to edge closer to the shambles of the porch, where the elegant stained glass front door stood in dilapidated glory. Shame, she thought, the house could be magnificent if it was properly attended to. 

As the distance between Ada and the house grew more insignificant, the worries, consequences and natural warning instincts became louder in her mind. Eight feet from the house, Ada found herself rooted to the spot, her feet reluctant to move. All of her body was subconsciously against this, pleading with her to turn back. Her fingers numb with January chill reached down into the pocket of her cloak and grasped the worn newspaper clipping reminding her of why she was here.

Fingering the depleted paper, tracing over the familiar print, gave her strength. Cautiously she edged towards the looming shadows that were emitted by the brick beauty, they were taunting her, jeering, sneering at her to come closer. Her mind ragged with the many varied visions of what-ifs was now beyond panicking as she placed her foot upon the first splintered stair. Ada’s eyes flew open wildly as she gained an understanding that nothing had happened, nothing had attacked her, nothing had disturbed the eerie silence, and nothing was out of place. She tittered weakly at the thought that she had shut her eyes upon the first step out of sheer terror.

Ada continued up the stairs, each step more confident than the latter. Her heart was beating furiously as she stretched out her hand toward the gothic doorknob. As she gripped the frigidly cold handle she paused for a moment, but the hesitation was brief, Ada turned the knob and the door opened with a surprising silence. She had expected a creak that would wake the dead in the near-by cemetery.

“Ada! I’ve been waiting for you…..”