The House of Midnight

Chapter Four

The Purity Of White

The rest of the day was a non dead people day. The bodies of the five people killed during the Games had mysteriously vanished, and the blood from the decapitation had been cleaned up too. That night, Izzy, Becca, May, Marcus and I all went to bed early. May was still a little jumpy, and Izzy and Becca didn't want to talk about what had happened during their Game. Marcus and I took May to her room, we both said goodnight to her. As May closed her door, I sighed, turned around and leaned on it. Marcus stood in front of me.
"This day has been hell." Marcus said.
"This LIFE is hell, so far." I mumbled.
Marcus smiled at me.
"It's cute when you mumble like that."
I blinked at him, and found myself blushing.
"Thanks..." I mumbled again and Marcus laughed.
"Well, I guess we better hit the hay then. See you in the morning?"
I nodded and stepped forward, and he stepped forward too and kissed my cheek. The kiss took me by surprise but Marcus had dashed off this room before I could say anything.
"It was just a friendly peck." I told myself. "He can't like me, it's been, what, two days since I've been here?"
I shook my head, shaking off the stupid warmth that spread across my face. Even if Marcus did like me, I only really liked him as friend.
I went to my room, got changed into a new pair of pjs ( a knee length nightdress with an uncomfortably low neck line ) and slipped into bed. I closed my eyes, trying to shut out Coopers strangled breaths and the blood and head and bodies hanging from ceilings.
When I did get some sleep, I was awoken by the chime of a clock. It was midnight. I lay in bed, listening to every ring, until it stopped at 12. That's when I heard footsteps.
I frowned, and looked over at my bedroom door. The footsteps were heavy, slow and distant.
Curiosity burned through me, so I sighed and tossed the covers off and crept to my door barefooted. Before I opened the door, I glanced at the chest of drawers beside me and saw the knife that White gave me sitting on the surface. I grabbed it, just in case, and went outside to the corridor. The corridor was dark, and the lights were turned off.
'Duh, stupid,' I thought, 'everyone is sleeping.'
I walked over to Mays door and pressed my ear against it. I heard nothing. Then, suddenly, I heard the footsteps again. This time, they were startling close. I looked to the archway, and froze. In the shadows, I saw something standing there, looking at me with glowing white eyes. My blood turned cold as my eyes adjusted to the dark, and made out the features of the creature.
It was hunched, and had a bald, round head with a gaping jaw, lined with needles for teeth. It's front legs, or arms, were very long and bony and its massive claws scrapped against the ground. It's back legs were almost the same, except its claws weren't as big. It's skin was stretched over its body like canvas, and it's bones stuck out because it was gauntly and thin and it smelled disgusting. It made a sound. A weird sound. Like a whine, but the whine of a deranged and distorted and dying dog.
I stepped backwards, slowly, and the creature froze. When I took another step, it suddenly screeched and half ran, half scuttled towards me. I cried out and stumbled backwards, slashing my knife in front of me.
I turned and ran for my door, but for some reason it was locked. I tried other doors, but they were locked too. Finally, I got to the last door in the corridor, and as I opened it the creature was just upon me. I slammed the door shut, and turned around, only to be greeted by a knife at my throat.
It was White.
The monster screamed and banged and scratched at the door, and White sighed and lowered his knife.
"Move." He grumbled.
I whirled out of the way and he leaned against it, hard. He shuddered with every bang that the Monster threw at the door. Soon, after it had supposedly given up, I heard it thud away, its claws scraping along the ground after it.
"What WAS that?" I said.
White sighed and ran his hand through his hair. He looked down at me with narrowed eyes, and I knew that he was scanning me up and down. I suddenly felt very nervous and self aware.
"Why are you wearing that?" He asked
. I pulled up the neck line further up my chest, and the straps fell down over my shoulders.
"That's what was on my bed, so I wore it." I grumbled, blushing.
White nodded, and we stood in silence for a while.
"Well, I guess I should go back to my room..."
I walked towards the door, but White didn't move.
"Monster doesn't go back to the basement until sunrise. Or, at least, at 6.00 which we think is sunrise. You'll have to stay in here with me."
I pouted, and a smile small spread across Whites mouth.
"How cute."
He patted my head, and I slapped his hand away.
"What happen to no touching?"
He smirked at me, and touched my face. I slapped his hand away again. "That only goes for YOU touching ME."
I huffed and walked back from him again. I looked around the room, it was dimly lit by a candle on a desk. His room looked like mine; rickety old bed, cracked mirror that was actually shattered, and a single desk under the mirror. I went over to the mirror, and picked up a shard that was on the desk.
"Again, what was that thing? 'Monster?' Why is it here?"
Whites face turned blank.
"Every day someone must die at the hands of another roommate before midnight, otherwise Monster is let out."
I frowned.
"But five people were killed today."
White shook his head.
"Game fatalities don't count."
I shuddered, and looked down. On the desk was a cassette recorder. I picked it up, but as soon as I did White was upon me, snatching it away.
"Could you not?" I almost yelled.
He stepped back, recorder in hand.
"I only wanted to listen to Ring Masters recording again. See if I can point out any hints or something."
White stared at me some more, then he looked down and clicked the button. The tapes began to spin, and the record played:

"Kill 57: Cooper"

"the rope hung on tight.
Purple blossomed up his neck.
Blues and pinks as well."

He pressed the pause button and it stopped. I stared at him.
"That was a haiku." He said.
"A type of poem."
"I know what it was." I said. "That was about Coopers death, wasn't it?"
He pressed the button again and another poem played. It was another haiku, describing colours and feeling of steel against flesh.
"And that one was about the boy you killed with scissors." I said slowly.
He nodded. He let the tape play, and it played more poems.
Quatrains, haikus, ballads, limericks. All of them describing beautiful, gory details of every death he caused.
I pressed myself against the desk.
"Why would you do that?" I said. "Why make poetry about every person you've killed?"
White shrugged.
"I guess I try to make something beautiful out of something so ugly."
He looked down at the ground.
"It's also so those people are never forgotten."
I shook my head.
It was sick. What he did. But, somehow, deep down, it touched me. He didn't want the people he killed to be forgotten, and the poems, even though they were gory and terrifying, they were beautiful.
He looked up at a clock on the wall, and then looked at me. "You should sleep. It's 12.25."
"If you'd let me go to my room, I will."
He shook his head.
"Monster will still be out there. And your door will be locked."
He gestured to his bed. "You can sleep there."
I frowned.
"Where will you sleep?"
He shrugged. "I'll stand guard at the door in case it breaks down."
I didn't want to sleep in his bed. One reason was because I was scared he'd kill me in the morning. The other reason made me blush, but I told myself that reason was ridiculous.
I yawned, and cursed at myself for giving up. I trudged over to the bed and sat down. White was still staring at me. I felt my face get red.
"I don't think I'll be able to sleep with you in the same room." I huffed.
He huffed back and turned around. For some reason, that made me feel less uncomfortable. I slipped into the bed and laid my head on the pillow. I took a deep breath in, and I was supervised at his scent.
It was metallic, like blood, mixed with lavender. It was strange, but nice.
As I began to close my eyes, he spoke.
"I remember you."
I snapped my eyes open and sat up.
"What?"
"Lay back down." He growled.
Startled by his tone, I obeyed.
"I said I remember you. From my other life."
He turned around and leaned back on the door again.
"The longer you stay here, the more memories you gain. I've been here for a long, long time. And when you came here, I knew that I recognised you. I don't know exactly who you are, or who you were to me, but I remember you. And, just like you, I want answers."
I looked up at him, and something inside me stirred.
"Is that why you won't kill me? Why you can't?"
He blinked, and I could of swore I saw blush on his face. But it faded, and he smirk, and he walked over to the bed and crouched down, his face level with mine.
"I could kill you whenever I want." He said.
I smiled at him. "No you can't. You won't. Everyone says they've never seen you act this way, or treated anyone so differently. You won't kill me. You CAN'T."
His smirk dropped, and he leaned forward to whisper in my ear.
"Challenge accepted." Was all he said. "You know you have to kill to get out of here." He whispered again.
I shook my head.
"I don't want to kill anyone. I'll stay here forever if I have to."
"Then you'll be stuck with me, and you'll become like me." He said softly. "This place will drive you mad."
I closed my eyes and smiled. My mind was becoming blurry, and I didn't even think about what I was saying.
"You ARE mad. But that's not always a bad thing." I murmured.
He kissed my cheek, and stood up again, wandering back to the door. I suddenly got drowsy very quickly, and I fell asleep.