I knocked a few more times. My mother once told me that patience is far more valuable than its opposite.
The door moaned on its bolts. Snap, fall, bang, scream, the doors groaned open.
“Well,” I thought, “that was loud.”
It was not quite as loud, however, as a scream I would hear in the dark only minutes from then.
It was pitch black. I imagined stepping into a well of nothingness when my foot passed the threshold.
I did not sink into a deep abyss, and considering the world I was in, I think of that as an accomplishment!
A sky of water, a world not so quite unlike Earth underneath! I know that I am a woman, and may be easily impressionable at times, but if you had seen that watery sky, then you would have been as awed and as frightened as me!
There was no candle to light my way in the castle. I should have called out, perhaps, but I couldn’t. My voice hid in my throat and I couldn’t find it at all! What tricks I can play on myself! They are much better than the tricks I have played on others–I was not so perfect a child as villagers have made me out of me, I confess.
I walked. Barely letting my foot fall, my steps echoed within the walls.
Then, there, right at that moment, I heard the scream.
Curdling it was.
I may not be so talented with precise description, but do let me try and explain it to you: it was loud, hoarse, and terribly high-pitched. It was haunting, and my blood went cold.