Anne raced after the figure as quickly as her skirts would allow. Turning into a terribly lit hall, she saw the figure gliding smoothly across the stone floor. The thing did not even seem to be touching the ground as it walked.
For the first time since starting this little excursion, Anne felt a tinge of fear trickle into her pith. The cowardice fear was immediately banished by her interest in this mystery. One thing was for sure, this was a suitable distraction from her failed love.
The twists and turns the thing was leading her down would be called a labyrinth by some. For Anne, this was home. A home that seemed to welcome this intruder.
After what seemed an eternity, the form decided to halt in a corner. It seemed content with the great distance separating them from the feast.
Anne stopped in the middle of the hall, reluctant to approach. The hooded figure motioned once again. It was then Anne realized the figure was not beckoning her with a hand. In fact, the creature did not seem to possess a hand at all. However, it did speak her native tongue.
“Come here,” it whispered with unseen lips.
Those two simple words echoed throughout the passage, chilling Anne with the simplicity and frigidity of the command. And that is what it was. A command. Not a request.
Against her better judgement, she approached the creature. As she neared, the figure lifted its hood. Anne choked back a scream.