AllFreeNovel
Share Us
The further I get from my room, the more the halls seem to echo around me. My eyes flit from room to room, and hall to empty hall, and I can't help but wonder just how amazing this place would be if just a little life was breathed into it.
A touch of warmth here and there to counter the icy loneliness that's settled within these walls.
I wonder who else has walked these halls, and whether this place, wherever it is, has always been like this. Part of me wonders if I even want to know the answers to these questions.
Wandering the halls, I get lost trying to find a way down to the lower floors where I'm sure the kitchen must be. It feels like I've been walking in circles by the time I finally make my way down, and then again have to work my way through another dark labyrinth of halls.
Eventually, I'm drawn to large door by the clang of pots and pans being moved about. It sounds like someone has already begun cooking within, and I suddenly realize my heartbeat has quickened at the thought. I'm eager to meet whoever it is, and perhaps a bit too excited at the prospect of someone else being here.
I step toward the door but stop just short of bursting in.
I should knock. It sounds like whoever it is has their hands full, and I'm sure they wouldn't appreciate me being underfoot ... though I do hope they'll invite me in.
"Hello," I call out, knocking on the door loud enough to be heard above the din.
I'm greeted by a silence that stretches so long that I start to worry I was imagining the sounds from before.
"Wait in the dining room," comes the cold, deep voice of my host.
I hesitate for a moment, swallowing down my disappointment before doing as I've been told.
The dining room is just past the kitchen. As I step in, I can still hear the sound of far too many pots and pans banging together, as well as the low growl of an occasional curse that I'm almost certain I'm not meant to hear from what I can only assume is an adjoining door.
Fighting back a chuckle at the oddity of it all, I take a seat in one of the high-backed chairs surrounding the large dining table that looks like it could comfortably seat a small army. Looking around the cavernous room and all the empty chairs, I wonder yet again if this place was once full of life.
My thoughts are interrupted as the door at the far end of the door bursts open and the man from last night sweeps into the room. The shadows that ebb and flow around him seem to devour the light as he walks toward me, his arms laden with dishes.
He places the various dishes down on the table before me as well as a set of gold cutlery. Everything looks delicious, and my mouth waters as I take it all in. Tearing my eyes away from the food, I glance up to watch as my host moves to sit a few chairs away from me at the head of the table.
He's dressed more casually today in all black, the drape of his shirt falling open slightly to reveal a sliver of smooth marble-like skin as he leans forward in his chair. He's wearing a much simpler bone mask today, though it still covers the entirety of his face, but for the bottomless pools of his black eyes.
The small glimpse of skin I just saw has my curiosity piquing yet again at what lies beneath his mask.
"Eat," he says, waving at the food set before me.
I return my gaze to the food. As beautifully as it's been plated, none of it looks the least bit familiar, and I'm not entirely sure where to begin. Steam rises from one particularly strange-looking dish, the scent pungent but inviting. Reaching for the fork, my stomach growls, eager to be filled.
Pausing, I glance back at my host, realizing he hasn't set a place for himself or moved to join me. Instead, watching me intently from the head of the table.
"Will you be joining me?"
"No, I had my fill last night," he says with a shake of his head. "Besides, I do not require food the same way you mortals do."
His words cause wariness to wash over me at the way he says this, and I can't help but wonder what exactly he is. Giving him a small smile, I turn back to the food and reach out to stick a fork in the steaming plate closest to me.
My stomach lets out an embarrassing growl as I bring the food to my lips. Taking a tentative bite, I freeze, the fork still in my mouth. A foul, bitter flavor fills my mouth as my eyes water. My stomach clenches as I try desperately not to gag.
Just barely, I manage to swallow the bite, praying to the gods that it doesn't kill me later. It's a struggle to maintain my composure as I set my fork down. Fighting to keep my face from revealing the horror of what I've just experienced, my eyes flicker to him, but it's too late.
He's leaning sideways in his chair, his elbow propped against the armrest as his finger presses to the forehead of his mask.
"It is awful, is it not?" he sighs deeply. "My apologies. I do not know what I did wrong. No matter how hard I tried, no matter how perfectly I plated them, they all tasted wrong. I had hoped it was merely a matter of human taste. Clearly, I was wrong."
I open my mouth to reply, but he's already gotten to his feet and moved to clear the plates from the table. The shadows whirling wildly about him, icy chills shooting through my body every time they graze against me, as if revealing the depth of his own frustration.
I watch him, worrying my bottom lip between my teeth as I wonder if I should say something.
Straightening, he nods once to me before retreating from the room, his arms full of the barely edible food.
