Lurker of the Dark

Added by Lesron.

Lurking Lesron lived up to her name. She lurked. She went here and there, and had seemed to know the mansion by heart. Well, that's what the Desks thought. The Distraught Desks. After all, they were the ones who made up her name. In fact, Lesron was, as far as she knew, the only one who had gotten lost—and trapped—within the mansion’s unexpected consciousness, and had escaped.

Now she roams the hallways carefree. Lesron ambled down the hall, listening to the creak of the floorboards as she stepped on them. The halls and corridors usually spooked the average writer, with its haunting silence. Especially some of the pictures framed upon the walls. There were a few portraits of insane writers, their hands clutching their hair, their mouths open as if they were screaming. The Desks tended to talk loudly with their friends to cast away that eeriness. Every so often, Lesron would here a sound, a whisper. Possibly from the house. Possibly from other writers.

She knew the whole layout of the mansion, except for the catacombs that lay beneath it. The catacombs. That was one place she did not prefer to go. In fact, she had already planned on never, ever having to go there unless asked by Lady Emergency—

 Plus, the Lady would have no reason to ask Lesron. Lesron stopped in the middle of the hallway. Her train of thought was disturbed. There were more voices. Loud, and human-like. It was some Desks. Why did she stop so abruptly? Because she was going to do what she loved to do. And that was to frighten the beginning writers as they passed by. She moved aside, and leaned against the wall, her form shrouded in the shadows. Her dark clothes—black jeans with wear and tear, with a gray sweater, to be exact—helped camouflage her within the dim light. More voice. Laughter. And then they passed by.

One with dark, brown hair that reached her shoulders, and one with flaming-red hair, tilting her head back to laugh. They seemed to be talking about… their lives outside of the mansion. Before they had come to this refuge for writers. They had passed Lurking Lesron without noticing her. Lesron smiled. A sly grin. She slipped out of the shadows, out of the darkness, and silently crept up to the girls. Until she was right at their backs, she whispered.

 “Are we having fun yet, girls?”

 

The red-head screamed. The brunette gasped, and turned around. They saw Lesron’s grin, her dark, blue cascading hair, and then nothing. She disappeared. Disappeared off the face of Earth. That’s what they thought. They whispered once more, their voices uneasy. One gave a frightened, little laugh, and they ran down the hallway, quickly, their hearts fluttering. Lesron, who stood in the shadows, smiled craftily. Time to get back to writing, now. Nonchalantly, she skipped down the hall, whistling a chilling tune.