Page 39 of The Spiral

“Jack, what the hell is happening in this house?” I scream back to him, planting myself against the wall and bracing for whatever might occur next. The wind whistles into the space instantly, the thick red curtains lifting from the ground again beneath its squall. The whole wall side of them lifts, creating a sailing wall of chiffon and velvet to crash around the area. “This is not real. It’s not.” I keep chanting it to myself, flicking my eyes around the floor and praying to God that the patterns of ice don’t start stretching any further in my direction. “Someone’s locked the other door. I saw the key turn in front of my eyes. Who else is here?”

The battering of the door at the other end of the room stops, leaving me with no other noise than the soft humming that continues and the flapping curtain’s heavy material as it bobs about.

I’m here, Maddy.

I jump immediately, throwing myself into the corner of the room for some degree of comfort against her voice.

You know who I am.

I don’t. I don’t know who she is. I don’t even know if her voice is real or not.

It’s enough for me to slide down the surface of the wall, lowering myself into a crouch and covering my ears in the hope that maybe it’ll all go away. Or that maybe if I shut my eyes tightly enough it’ll stop, that this voice will leave me alone.

You felt me. I want him back.

I don’t know what that means, and it makes me shake my head, physically shake it with my hands to try to rid myself of her inside my head.

Open your eyes, Maddy.

No. No. I won’t open my eyes. I’m not opening them until all this stops and goes away. I’ll just sit here, ignoring whatever is happening. Perhaps if I do that long enough she’ll stop bloody well talking to me, whoever she is. It’s not real. Not real.

He’s mine.

“I didn’t hear that. I didn’t. You’re not real.” The temperature drops again, making me curl my naked body into itself further as I inch closer to the wall, but the noise of the curtains stops instantly.

Tentatively, I open my eyes a little, squinting into the room to see if anything’s changed. The frost is still there on the floor, but the curtains have calmed their stormy tirade, and the white light seems to have dispersed to only small flecks of it around the mirrored wall. I watch it bounce about, nervously scanning the mirror for a sight of a ghost. There’s nothing there, nothing again other than the frosty patterns beginning to dissipate back towards the huge mirrors.

“Stupid,” I mumble to myself, looking at the doors that Jack was kicking at. “Are you still there?” I shout up to him, hoping he is. “Try the door again.” No sound comes back in my direction. He’s ether not there, or he’s not answering me. “Jack?” Still nothing.

I sigh out a breath, wondering what to do as I shiver against the wall. This is all plainly absurd. It’s a freak weather thing, obviously. It’s nothing more than a storm. I try to ignore the fact that the key managed to turn itself in the lock without my help, also discounting the fact the doors seemed to purposely slam in my face. It’s just an oddity, that’s all. And it’s over now anyway. Finished.