Grace tentatively stepped into the dim room and closed the door softly behind her, the only light coming from the grubby windows and the candelabra she had lit. A chilling wind fluttered into the room, stirring the dust and causing the bottom of her skirt to drift around her knees. And yet the windows were all sealed tightly. Her eyes drifted towards the dull curtains that were motionless. 'There must be a draft coming from the door,' she thought, trying to ease her mind.
The impassive room had seemed to call to her with a solitary noise and had drawn her in. Now it seemed to fence her in, each object, concealed by off-white drapes, seemed to be reaching out at her, creeping in and ready to ambush her. She grew distressed as paranoia set in and she started to rapidly pull and tug at the drapes, while telling herself that they were just silly items; they couldn't move!
Breathing heavily from her outburst her eyes darted around the room, searching for anything out of the ordinary. Just a coatrack, a dust coated bookshelf and an old desk with what seemed to be a jewellery box sitting on top of it. 'See, Grace. Nothing out of the ordinary, just some silly things that the previous house owners must not have wanted,' she sternly told herself. She shook her head at her own foolishness.
The wind picked up and whipped her golden hair around her shoulders and into her face. It seemed to laugh at her, it quiet moans tormenting her. Her fears were immediately brought back to life and tears pricked at the back of her sky blue eyes, blurring her vision. She scolded herself for crying and becoming so scared, she was a grown woman for heaven's sake! Grace took a deep breath; trying to collect herself.
She turned and wandered towards the window, the sky was a blanket of grey and the rain drenched the outside world and cascaded down the glass creating trails of water until they converged with the bottom of the windowpane. She planted her hands firmly upon the windowsill, supporting herself while she let out a shaky breath that caused the chilly glass to fog as she rested her forehead against it. Pushing herself from the refreshing coolness she looked out again, prepared to see the bleak and miserable garden that she still needed to tend to, but the outdoors had become sinisterly dark; she couldn't even distinguish anything past the droplets of aqua. Before she turned away she caught sight of movement, but not from outside; it was a reflection. She turned cautiously, unsure of what she might find.
Nothing.
The frosty air seized her by surprise and caused her to gasp noisily. It bellowed into her ears and sent shockwaves down her and made her golden tresses fly in every direction. It snuffed out the candlesticks she'd lit, enclosing her in complete darkness.
A ghostly melody, almost like a lullaby used to sooth babies, floated over her. Her eyes drifted close for a moment before she caught herself. From the corner of her eye she caught a glimpse of light; she ambled towards the soft glow and found what she once assumed to be a jewellery box was in fact a music box. The graceful twirling figurine of a ballerina stood magnificently in the middle.
The music stopped abruptly, and the lid of the music box slammed shut. She hurriedly clutched it and tried to pry it open, not wanting to be in the black abyss that had suddenly turned bitterly freezing. The arctic wind cackled around her once again, jerking and yanking at her hair. She then heard the most petrifying thing. Somehow over the deafening gusts she'd heard the unmistakable echo of a lock softly going 'click'.
She'd left the key in the other side of the door.