Cecilia (Part One)

She walked along the cold corridors, passing by dusty portraits of dead ancestors, her hair prickling in the vast darkness. The floorboard creaked as she strode by. Three doors away, a silhouette appeared in the dark.

"This way, Mistress," the figure uttered under his rough, musky breath.

She obeyed, following the short, hunched man. They strode pass dirty chandeliers, torn flowery wallpapers until the hunched man stop abruptly in front of a door. With a stern glance at her, he unlocked the door, took several steps behind and vanished into the darkness.

A slow voice called: " Here, my child."

She walked into the room and knelt upon an old woman who was sitting on an armchair. Her creased hands caressed her young, pale face, the old woman weeping tears of joy, speechless for the moment.

She calmly lifted the pair of hands away, and unblinking, she stabbed the old woman with a fork she had been holding since the start of the visit.

The old woman screamed in agony, as blood splattered across the pale peach curtains.

Nearby, a flock of birds took journey to the north. Winter was near.