AllFreeNovel
Share Us
* * *
The third-floor landing still looked dusty and worn, the door leading into it still locked tight. No matter. Theodosia took the nail file she’d appropriated, inserted the pointy end into the doorjamb, and went to work. This wasn’t her first rodeo and after some forty seconds of seesawing back and forth, the old lock clicked open.
The click of the lock synced with a jump in Theodosia’s heart rate.
Scared? No, don’t be, she told herself.
Drawing a deep breath, Theodosia pushed open the door and stepped inside.
Strangely, the third floor was all one large room. No row of small rooms where maids and butlers had once slept.
Maybe the help had slept in the basement?
She supposed it was possible. Or maybe the cooks and cleaners had gone home in the evening.
The room was pretty much empty, save for a myriad of dust bunnies, mouse droppings, and some piles of garbage. A musty smell permeated the entire place and old wallpaper peeled in long strips from the walls. There was no actual furniture except for a narrow iron bed frame hunkered over near a window.
Theodosia walked toward the bed frame and saw that it was completely rusted.
As she drew closer, she spotted a pair of leather handcuffs. The leather was old, dried, and cracked. But what made the cuffs really terrifying was that they were attached to a chain. With the chain bolted to the bed frame.
Dear Lord. This wasn’t just some spooky legend, this was for real.
With a kind of morbid fascination, Theodosia poked a finger at one of the leather handcuffs. The cuff was old to the point of being brittle. In fact, anyone touching these handcuffs might cause them to crumble.
Still, she knew there was a time when these cuffs had been supple and strong. They’d been clamped around poor Audra Baker’s wrists and had imprisoned her here for any number of years.
Theodosia shuddered. This was the stuff of nightmares. If she was ever going to write a script for a horror movie, here was the fodder for it, the absolute chill factor that would make the tiny hairs on the back of your neck stand straight up.
Was that why the film company had selected Brittlebank Manor? Because of its unsavory past? Its strange history? But no, probably a Hollywood location scout had looked at any number of old mansions in Charleston. Maybe this was the one that had been available. Or the cheapest to rent.
A feeling of sadness and isolation swept over Theodosia. She knew this attic was an awful place that could easily slither its way into her subconscious and haunt her dreams if she let it.
She vowed not to let that happen. Better to leave now, her curiosity satisfied, and go home to her cozy, safe cottage.
But when Theodosia tried to open the door to leave, she found that it was locked tight.
No!
Theodosia grasped the doorknob again and cranked hard, turned it and twisted it with all her might. But the door still wouldn’t budge.
Is it stuck? Or did someone lock me in?
Maybe this was supposed to be a joke. She poked her nail file into the doorjamb and jiggled it back and forth, but this time she wasn’t able to work her magic.
Okay, whoever locked me in here, you’ve had your fun—now let me out!
Theodosia shouted at the top of her lungs, pounded hard on the door, and finally resorted to kicking it with all her might. The door didn’t shatter, budge, or break. She was locked in the attic with nothing but the remains of a mystery—the bizarre tale of a woman’s strange imprisonment.
And, of course, the sun was just about to set. Which meant that, in another fifteen minutes, the attic would be dark as a coal bin.
Theodosia spent the next sixty seconds in a blind panic. She shouted some more, paced the floor like a wild animal, and went back to the door and pounded on it. Nothing worked. Feeling as if her brain were about to explode, Theodosia forced herself to quiet her breathing and calm down. To relax, get a grip, and think this through.
That’s when she remembered the secret passage she’d seen on the blueprints.
Okay, just where is this secret passageway?
Theodosia pressed herself up against the closest interior wall and began to explore. She pushed on all the walls, ran her fingers over any little seams and nubs she felt, and then along the baseboards. No magic escape way jumped out at her.
