Chapter V: Part 2
The warm fire was still burning, and I was thankful these doors were made of a heavy, solid oak. I closed and locked the dors, leaned against it and gasped trying to catch my breath. Everything was quiet except for the crackle and hissing of the fire. It hissed and growled as it faught to stay burning, the writhing flames were being flattened down as a shaft of cold air blew down the chimney. The wind, if you could call it that, grew stronger, until the fire went completely out.
My fear grew with the suffocation darkness, and the same fear I had felt from basement, now overwhelming. I could hear the frantic pounding of my heart and the soft tick-tock othe the old grandfather clock. I listened intently for any sign of movement from the other side of the doors. There was nothing. My confidence grew and I slowly opened the door and peered into the dark hallway. Nothing was there to prove that my encounter in the basement wasn't my imagination. I jumped when the grandfather clock announced midnight. For a few moments I listened to the soft ticking of the grandfather clock. I heard a faint laughter from somewhere down the hall and the door suddenly shut me into the study. I turned my back to the door and felt a force push me back., but it wasn't the door that I was pushed up against...
Two strong arms wrapped around my shoulders. I wanted to frantically fight away from this unwelcomed intruder, but there was a strange impression this intruder had on me. I actually felt that my urge to react forcefully was being surpressed, until all thought of fighting left me. This intruder moved their heands up to my shoulders and very skillfully begand rubbing them. "Such a tense creature you are. Relax." I've never heard his voice before, it was frightening. His waccent was quite heavy on certain words. It sounded Dutch or French and made his words flow smoothly and soothingly.
The fire in the fireplace suddenly came back to life, and the lights came back on. The stranger behind me stopped rubbing my shoulders and held one hand on my shoulder as he moved close next to me. Our faces wer barely touching and I felt ver uncomfortable. With his free hand he fingered the pendant around my neck. My shoulders tensed as I felt him move his body closer to mine. I could see him out the corner of my eys. He was really handsome. He had dark, black hair that was cut exactly like Morgan's although a little longer. His skin was more tan that Morgan's and his eyes were a green-yellow color.
I could feel his hot breath on my neck as he spoke in his rich Dutch accent. "You're afraid. I can smell your fear." his body and breath was so warm, it seemed unbareable, even his voice was warm and mellow. He leaned his head against mine and his grip on my shoulder tightened. "Such a soft, fragile girl you are. And such pure blood." I could tell he was calculating, and studing me and he continued pouring out comments. He turned and burried his face in the crook of my neck, "A virgin...what luck you're in, Love." He fingered my pendant again and studied it a little closer. "What a lovely necklace." He streeched the word 'neck-lace' so it sounded more like two words than one. He looked up at me to see what my reaction would be.
I forced a grin and saucily said, "Do you really like it? You can have it." I was hopeful he'd get my message. His lips parted in a slight smile which made mine fade. I had no idea what he was going to do now, so I waited. He looked away from me before he let my necklace fall back on my chest.
"Cute." He let me go and walked to the arm chair in front of the fire. "It's Cecilia, right?" He bent down and picked up my Stephen King novel.
I was still confused as to who the hell he was and why I had felt those strange sensations when he was that close to me. "Huh?" I asked in a daze trying to sort through it all.
"You are Cecilia Hart. Correct?" He repeated.
I loved the way he said my name with his soft hissing 'S's and rolling 'R's. "Yeah, that's me. Why do you want to know?" He set my book back down and straightened to his full height. I noticed he was a little shorter than Morgan, and closer to my height.
"I'm Draak." He rolled the sound of the "D" and "R" together.
"That's an..interesting name." I tried to make it sound like a comment. He looked up and smiled.
"It means Dragon in Duch."
"So it's not your real name?"
He shrugged, "It could be." He sounded bored.
"Draak..." I practised saying his name under my breath. He looked up at me as I muttered his name again.
"It's Draak. It's spelled d-r-a-a-k, and sounds like Drac."
I repeated his name again, trying to fake a Dutch accent Draak laughed at me. It was abashing torcher, so I changed the subject. "So...Draak. Why are you here? And why did you scare the crap out of me!?" I demanded.
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