Velvet Room - The showing

Everything tires of being alone after too long.

The weather outside was horrific and it was only getting worse. The wind picked up momentum as it howled through the old window seals. Sienna hovered on the edge of an old drape covered couch. She was in a sitting room watching through the windows as the trees whipped about.  Their bare branches moved over the siding like skeletal fingers trying to claw their way in.
She struggled between wanting the trees destroy this cursed place and knowing this dwelling was the only thing keeping her from being tossed to the destructive powers of nature. The one thing she did know: she sought anything that could take her way from this hell.
If walls could breathe, these ones would be seething in anticipation. She couldn’t lose the feeling that she was the house’s plaything. That somehow, this wicked house was alive and she was its prey.
Sienna clutched her purse tight. It held her camera and with it she hoped it was heavy enough to be used as a weapon if she needed. Just two hours ago it was sunny and she didn’t even need a flashlight to see the house. Now it was too dark to even see across the room.
Then the hand of god came down and with a flip of a switch turned off the light. With his breath he started a rainstorm so heavy she couldn’t even see her car from the front porch. She believed that trying to drive in this weather on these hills would be dangerous. Images of her car rolling down side of a mountain kept playing through her head.
Sienna pulled the camera out of her bag and turned in on. She flipped through the pictures, trying to understand where everything went grave. Leaning in, she examined each picture. The rooms looked bright except about the edges where it was darker. The shadows didn’t match up with windows or furniture in the room. It was like the shadow of something watching from just off screen. She didn’t remember the room looking that way when she took the pictures. A shiver ran the length of her spine but not because it was cold. The house –despite the weather– was warm, almost comfortable.
Zooming in on the shadow, the LCD screen went black and the room lowered into darkness once more. She couldn’t understand why the camera had turned off, till she tried the power and a small LED light blinked rapidly reporting there was no power left. “That’s bullshit, I charged it last night.”
She took her phone out of her purse and turned on the screen. It was still almost fully charged, but it wasn’t doing her any good without service. Nothing was going right and Sienna was starting to believe it wasn’t just coincidence. It was like she was being toyed with, stripping her soul bare so it could be poked and prodded.
“God, I wish this place had power,” she said, not sure who she was talking to. “What I wouldn’t give for a damn light.”
Almost at once she wished she hadn’t said it. Dim lights flickered on and she felt the tax on her life grow heavier.
The light was coming from upstairs. The glow wavered down into the foyer. Her stomach knotted from the anxiety that flooded her like ice water.
Wicked hands build wicked plans.

Sienna couldn’t believe she’d taken the job. Who in their right mind would pay someone they didn’t know two grand to inspect a house? One they knew nothing about and was on the other side of the country. While she’d seen the flaws in the job, the money was too good to turn it down. It did a lot to quiet any apprehensions she might have had about the job. More importantly she could use it for real estate experience on her resume, something she needed desperately. So, she accepted the job and flew to the middle of nowhere to see this damned house.
In town, she’d picked up the keys, but no one offered to come with her. They all seemed very comfortable with tossing the keys at her and letting her have the run of the place.
Sienna jumped, heart pounding. The noise was impossibly loud, shaking the ceiling.
Had the trees at last bashed their way through the side of the house? Sienna gripped the dead camera in her hands till her knuckles turned white and the case groaned in protest. Even with the blood banging in her ears couldn’t block out the softer dull whacks that followed. They called down to her from the second story.
Perhaps it was just a window that had blown open in the wind? They were probably in need of repair. Still, the last thing she needed was for the damn bank to blame her for damages when she had no insurance to cover it.  Getting up, she crossed the room while still clutching the camera to her.
 No matter how close she got to the stairs, the light never became any brighter. It stayed the same dim, sickly yellow. Reaching the bottom of the staircase, she looked back with second thoughts. She couldn’t see the couch from here. It was so dark she could only see the outline.
Wait, was that the couch at all?
Her stomach dropped. It was like she’d swam away from the island only to look back and find it lost among the waves. Sienna felt a desperate whine come up the back of her throat but she choked it down. Like hell was she going to lose it here. It’s just a house.
Placing her foot firmly on the first step, testing it. It did not fall in. Sienna didn’t expect the stairs to feel this solid. They were firm, not even a creak of protest. Her footfalls were almost completely inaudible. Looking up, hanging at the apex of the stairs, was a bronze chandelier with panes of glass set into its ribbing. While the glass was clean the wavering light it gave off was a jaundiced yellow. Looking closer, she could see bugs flying inside, causing the discoloration and their circling created flickering shadows.
 The whine she’d been fighting to keep down came up in a freighted gurgle.  Crouching, she crept under the chandelier, not wanting any of those bugs to fall on her.
She stepped onto the upper foyer relived to be standing up straight again, but caught herself brushing at her shoulders absentmindedly. Sienna looked around. She hadn’t been upstairs yet: the weather had turned bad before she’d gotten that far. Now, getting her first look down the large hallways, she was impressed by the dark hardwood with plush, dark red carpets running down their center. The upstairs was bigger than she expected. Just how big? She couldn’t tell with just the single dim light. Stepping into the hallway, the soft carpet was almost comforting underfoot. Soft, yet supportive.
              From here she could see the foyer light wasn’t the only one. There was a second.  She couldn’t see it from downstairs because the door was only opened a crack, keeping the light from spilling too far. The noise was coming from behind that door. The thumping was louder. Loud enough she could make out the wet sucking noises that came between each impact.
One foot in front of the other, she moved towards it carefully, her courage bolstered by how noiselessly her steps were. She pushed lightly on the door and it opened like a spring trap, revealing the gruesome scene beyond.
It was a bathroom. Inside a man worked over a blood splattered bathtub. He was dressed in clothes she could only describe as Colonial, but  it was hard to tell when they were ripped and so heavily stained in blood. He was leaned over the tub hacking a cleaver into a body again and again. The body was mutilated, the gender no longer recognizable.  A pale, slender arm hung over the side. Blood dripped from the ends of its fingers to the tile below.
Tossing the cleaver to the tile in exasperation, the man took up a skinning knife and went about methodically removing the skin from the body. All of this was too much for Sienna. She tried to back away from the room but moved too quickly and tripped, falling into the hallway.  Her arms went spinning as she tried to stop her fall. Dropping her camera she reached for the banister and missed, slamming her shoulder into the hard wood. She yelped in pain and the wood cracked from the impact.
This is it, she thought, watching her camera spin off into the shadows. This is where I die.
The commotion had caught the man’s attention. He turned and looked at her like he’s been expecting her for years.
“Welcome, pretty.” His voice was deep, yet missing the impression of being truly whole. In fact, the man himself had an opacity that didn’t seem to quite set him in this realm.    
 “S-stay the hell away from me!” she said, finding her voice. He might seem unreal, but his razor sharp skinning knife was not to be tested. She scrambled away on her back as he stepped out of the bathroom.
              The man looked confused by her reaction, till he glanced back. As if it had all come together for him, he smiled. His teeth where black: he’d been eating parts of the body. “That unfaithful bitch means nothing to me.” He had English accent.
He looked down at her, saying his next words carefully. “I needed to show her what happens when you disappoint me.” He laughed and the knife shook, dripping blood on the carpet but it was too red to show it. “She won’t be doing that again, will she?”
Using the banister and adrenaline Sienna pulled herself to her feet. “Who the hell are you? You sick bastard!”
“Me?” he scratched the tip of the messy knife under his chin, leaving a thick dark smear in his stubble. “I’m the one that build this house.”
“You own this house?” She kept backing away and trying to put more distance between them.
His dark eyes widened. “Oh no.” Shaking his head slowly. “I built the house, but no one owns it. No, not now.” He laughed again and it echoed through the long hallway so loud it pounded at her head. Sienna knew she was dead if she didn’t do something. This man was nuts and she was going to be the next body he skinned in that tub.
Daring to look away from him and his knife, she saw the thick dark wooden door just a few feet behind her. It had to be strong enough to keep him at bay, maybe long enough she could climb out a window and escape. Once she was out of the house she’d only need to beat him to the car. She no longer cared about a drive down that hill. It would be better than staying another minute in here.
It was as good as any plan she’d had all day. Reaching back for the metal knob she expected it to feel cold, not warm.
“No pretty! Don’t go in there!” The man looked honestly afraid.
Anything that worried him was good for her. She opened the door and stepped into the room before taking pleasure in slamming the heavy thing in his face. It had an old fashioned key lock and when she turned the key it made a satisfying click, locking him out… she hoped.

She turned to survey the room and the first thing she noticed was the walls. They looked like… No, they were made of crushed red velvet, dark reds and lighter reds mixing where fabric wasn’t even. A large desk stood in the middle of the room, made of dark wood, almost black. There was also a wet bar that ran along the side and its countertop was made of the same dark wood. The room’s faint light came from old wrought iron sconces built into the walls. There were no windows in here. She cursed, knowing sooner or later she’d have to leave through the same door she’d come in.
She studied the room further. The feeling of being watched was stronger here. The air was oppressively thick and the walls felt like they were leaning in on her. Stepping carefully, she walked to the desk, the lights flickering from either wall causing her shadow to dance and jump with a mind of its own. It seemed she had control of absolutely nothing here.
Closer to the desk she could see a silver pen sitting on it. It was capped and seemed to shin with it’s own light as it lay before a matching wood desk chair. It was arched back as if it had still held an occupant sitting in thought. She moved around the desk and tried to open one of its massive drawers, looking for something she could use as a weapon. The drawers were locked or maybe jammed. They didn’t even wiggle inside of their enclosures and she couldn’t find a keyhole for a lock. Sienna tried to shake them harder as her desperation grew.
Coming to the conclusion she wouldn’t be able to get into the desk without a fire axe she investigated the only thing sitting on it. Reaching out slowly she touched the pen with just a finger, then a thumb before trying to lift it from the surface. Not sure what she was expecting to happen, she carefully brought it to eye level. It was a fountain pen with a polished silver handle. It wasn’t shining. It was reflecting a different velvet room. A tear rolled down her cheek as she looked on.
The room reflected in the pen was brighter, with a window that let the bright afternoon sun come through to splash over the glossy fibers of the velvet walls. She looked back to her room where the window should be, but there was only dark red wall. Checking the pen again the window was still there. She turned in a slow circle taking in more of the room through the pen’s reflection… until a large man filled her view, causing her to scream and drop the pen. The man was hanging by his neck, his face purple and distorted. He must have been dangling there for hours.
“Oh, god. Sweet god.” She shook her hands, trying to remove any feeling of holding that pen out of them.
Her heart was beating in her ears again.
No. It wasn’t her. It was the room.
Sienna couldn’t even hear her own breathing in here. She couldn’t hear anything other than the slow steady heartbeat of the room.
Thump-thump, thump-thump, thump-thump.
This house was going to devour her. Worse, it was going to feast on her soul. She looked up at the red walls. Were they becoming darker? She walked towards the wall, the one that held the window in the pen’s reflection. Maybe it was just a false wall and she could push through it.
Up close the wall was even darker and it looked wet. Yes, this was it, the window had to be behind this wall where the rainwater was soaking through.
Pressing her left hand into the velvet, she thought it would feel cool but it was warm. She didn’t understand what was happening at first. The velvet squished under the pressure of her hand then it started to seep through the material and drip thickly between and over her fingers. She pulled her hand away and it felt like she was pulling it from mud. Her whole hand was red… with blood. “Help me.”
The wall continued to bleed. It dribbled d  own the fabric till it pooled like wax on the hard wood floors. 
“Help me!” she cried. Drawing back she tried to keep the blood from covering her shoes. All she could smell was damp iron.
A low growl rippled through the chamber and she stumbled back, turning to run for the door, the blood still dripping from her hand. “Oh god, save me. Keep me from this place.” She decided to take her chances with the man in the hall.
Heaving the door open, she couldn’t him or his gore-covered knife. The bathroom door was open, but the light was no longer on. Relieved, she took a step from the room. She looked down the hall then to the stairs. There was no sign of the man.  She could see the front door at the bottom of the stairs. The weather was breaking and light came through the door’s stained glass window.
It was going to be okay. She just needed to get in her car and put a thousand miles between herself and this house. She wasn’t even going to return their damn keys and she prayed they didn’t have another pair.
She started to reach into her pocket for the car keys. There were two loud snaps and she was jerked back. She looked down and found was her left arm had been snapped in half and pulled back into the room. She stared down in shock at how the skin folded strangely over the shattered forearm. Sienna tried to pull away but whatever it was held strong. The pain registered just as her legs were swept out from under her and she was being dragged back in.
“No, no, no!” she screamed even though she knew there was no one to help her.  Using her good hand she grabbed at the doorframe in one last desperate attempt to pull herself free. She looked back, trying to kick at her attacker.
“Oh.” Her voice was soft now, all sense of panic gone as her eyes lit on what held her. “So beautiful.”
Without another protest, Sienna was pulled into the room and the door closed carefully behind her.

This striking colonial masterpiece sits on a generous section of rolling land, giving the owner a spacious yet private feel. The mansion has been fully remodeled and updated around original stone fireplaces. The exceptional construction quality and gorgeous finishes are seen throughout its flowing floor plan. The great open spaces and large windows create natural light and is the perfect home for entertaining.

Come down and see this beautiful and historical home.

Contact: Sienna Chapman at 253-896-0071

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