Featured by @fright for AAPIHM.
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A librarian gets sucked into a web of horror as she investigates a century-old disappearance in the new town she has moved into.
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Yvaine Agan had always led a quiet life and had expected to do the same when sh...
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She didn't like the cold.
And that night it was terribly so. Gelid winds blew over the town, bringing with them bits of snow and frost. It knocked at the closed doors and shook the glass panes, making them jingle to their tune.
They made the leaves of the trees rustle, which made a horrid moaning sound. Darkness loomed all over, the moon invisible. Coupled with the winds, the scene verily resembled a long deserted ghost town.
It was a little after midnight and all the houses in the town were locked. The candles were blown, and the curtains were drawn as the residents of Andrasville retired for the night. All were fast asleep in the comfort of their warm beds and thick quilts, all except for one.
A solitary lady, draped in a thick crimson shawl, stood trembling by a willow tree in the garden of the only château of the town. Her pale, oval-shaped face was green with anticipation and her slender fingers fiddled with the folds in her shawl. The winds played with the cascading locks of her jet black hair.
"I had asked her to come in the morning. But she never listens," the lady mumbled to herself, chewing on her lower lip.
For a good part of the night, she had been standing out in the open, waiting for Felicity to come, but so far, there was no sign of her. It seemed incredulous that someone should make her stand in this treacherous cold for so long, especially when that someone was a dear friend.
Of course, she had no intention of leaving behind her bed and the half-read Frankenstein to come and meet Felicity at this ungodly hour. But the urgency in the letter had pricked her being continuously, making her slip out late that night, unbeknownst to her family.
Minutes bled away in silence. The lady fiddled with her shawl with more vigor, occasionally looking over her shoulder and beyond the willow tree to see whether Felicity had arrived.
Ire filled her veins. Was this some kind of jest? Had Felicity thought it would be amusing to trick her this way? She felt droopy, sleepiness reddened her eyes. This rendezvous was turning into nothing short of torture with every passing moment.
An exasperated sigh escaped her lips. She thought of waiting for a few minutes, after which she shall immediately return inside the château. Almost at the same instant, a crunch of twigs broke the silence of the night. Sharply, the lady turned around, facing the willow tree.
"Is... Is that you, Felicity?" She asked, peering into the darkness, her heart thumping ominously against her chest. No answer came. Only the crunching of the twigs continued, that heralded someone made their way towards her.
"Felicity, why do you not-" the lady called out, only to stop mid-sentence, as the silhouette of a man emerged from the darkness.
An astonished expression took hold of her face. She took a step back, gulping down hard. A sharp chill traversed the entirety of her body, making her shiver uncontrollably.
