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Alex’s excitement rises as the car pulls up to the wrought iron gates of the mansion. Her driver speaks to the intercom and the gates groan and clang as they open; as if they haven’t been asked to open in a hundred years and the effort is almost too much.
She can see why people might think this ancient place is haunted, as they drive up the long, winding driveway. It is eerily quiet near the gate, besides the odd hoot of an owl somewhere in the creaky old woods to either side of them; bare branches twisting every which way as if reaching out to them. The only light emanating from the car’s headlights, and a glow of activity from the mansion ahead.
Alex turns back to look through the rear window as the gates crash shut, but she can see nothing through the darkness; the road behind them blanketed in pitch black. A thrill shoots through her at the thought of not being able to leave the mansion until morning, when the light of day finally spills out across this ‘haunted’ site.
She smiles to herself as she swivels in her seat, anticipation stirring in her stomach. She doesn’t believe in ghosts and hauntings; there is always something to explain away the strange noises in the night or shadows on the wall. But she is always up for a good party; and a Halloween party, on all hallows eve, with a full moon and a spooky setting is all set up to be one hell of a fantastic night.
The car slowly turns the corner and Alex gasps in awe at the sight before her. The enormous, dark mansion looms into view; lights already dancing throughout the bottom story windows. The full moon is larger and brighter than she has ever seen it, seated perfectly in the sky, partly obscured by a menacing tower; and yet its glow doesn’t seem to reach this expansive plot of land.
The driver pulls right up to the base of the stone steps leading straight into the mouth of the mansion, and as soon as the engine stops, the silence of the world around them on the driveway is instantly pervaded by the low thump of music and rumble of happy chatter.
“Here you are m’lady,” the driver opens her door and helps her to step out, minding she doesn’t tread on her dress.
“Thank you, Owen,” she smiles as he closes her door.
“I’ll pick you up in the morning,” he rounds the car, “Have a brilliant evening.”
She chuckles at his wink before he ducks back into the driver’s seat and starts the engine, listening to the sound of gravel crunching under his wheels as he rolls away.
Lifting her skirt slightly she makes her way up the steps, marvelling at the gruesome looking gargoyles staring down from above her. It may be a very, very old building, but it’s been well kept; the gargoyles and statues all still have their faces and limbs, none of the stonework has crumbled... unless they’ve been refurbished.
She glances in front at the ominous solid oak doors and smiles at the ornate lions head door handle; the BBC really have gone all out in hiring this place for a simple Halloween party.
Just as she is considering using the brass knocker, the door clicks and slowly creaks open before her.
Sound and light hit her simultaneously and she is momentarily stunned.
“Come on in,” a very tall, very skinny man with long white hair and a hunchback, which she’s not sure is real or not, beckons her inside. “There’s a chill in the air, don’t want you to catch your death by hovering on the doorstep all night.”
The man stretches out a long, pale, thin-fingered hand to her, which she takes as she shakes herself from her thoughts and steps inside the warmth of the building. His skin feels rough and his knuckles are gnarly and she looks up into his eyes as he introduces himself with his silky voice as the master of the house, noticing how cold and worn they seem. She’d thought Matt was a young man with old eyes, but this man looks like he’d lived for hundreds of years; which of course is not possible.
She thanks him and heads toward the ballroom, where the party is taking place, considering him as she wanders; with his hunched back, cold hands and just-on-the-blue-side-of-white eyes; contact lenses, she thinks and mentally congratulates him on his effective costume.
The entrance hall is dimly lit by candles in little concave hollows in the wall, which follow the grand staircase with is deep red carpet all the way up and out of view. There is an ugly little gargoyle type creature sat, in stone, at the foot of the banister and she pulls a face at it as she passes by.
Little does she notice the face it pulls back in return.
She follows the merry sound of music and laughter into the grand ballroom and a tiny ‘oh my’ escapes her lips as she takes it in. Without decoration this room would be magnificent; very high ceiling, intricate patterns on the wood panelled walls, columns climbing from floor to ceiling and a swirling, wood floor that almost looks like it could move to the music. With decorations, the room is breathtaking; sheets of red cloth are strung across the entire room, just below the ceiling, there are ‘cobwebs’ in the doorway and windows and other corners of the room, some with huge, black, furry, fake-looking spiders in. The long banquet table along the far wall is draped with a white sheet that looks like it has been spattered with ‘blood’, full of gold trays and dishes of food; a hand, like the one in the Addams Family, sits at in the centre and wriggles a finger every so often. Pumpkin lanterns light the edge of the room, sitting in the windows, each one intricately carved with faces and Halloween-y scenes and even scenes from the various BBC shows; she spots the Doctor Who one straight away, the TARDIS instantly recognisable. And there are people behind the bar in the corner dressed up like the living dead as they serve guests their interesting drinks with suitably Halloween-y names.
Alex orders a ‘deathly white’, which is a white wine with a plastic spider hanging over the inside edge of the glass, before scanning the room for her friends.
Of course everyone has dressed up and made great efforts on their costume, just like she had. She spies skeletons, witches, Frankenstein, the devil, zombies, ghosts, corpse bride, Jack and other characters from ‘A Nightmare before Christmas’,
She finishes her drink and turns back to the bar for another when a tall man wearing a long dark cloak slides in next to her.
"Deathly white? Interesting. I prefer something a little darker myself," he speaks before ordering a glass of 'fresh blood'.
"Ooh, red wine, so daring," she teases.
"A vampire needs his daily dose of blood," he protests.
"You're not a real vampire, Matt."
"Who is this 'Matt'? I am the infamous Count Dracula." He accepts his drink from the zombie barman. "My friends just call me Dracula," he winks and Alex chuckles.
"Well," she decides to humour him, "that is one beautiful cloak," she runs a finger down the lapel of the black material, folding it back to reveal the deep purple satin lining. He smirks as she admires his black patterned waistcoat, white collared shirt and pocket watch. "You really went all out, didn't you?"
"Unlike you, you could have at least done something different with your hair," he jokes and she gives him an unimpressed look. He chuckles as he takes a sip before pulling gently on the head of a snake in her hair; like he usually does to her curls when they flirt on set. "I like it."
"I'm glad."
"Alex!" A shrieking flash of ginger throws herself at her and wraps great arms around her in a tight hug.
"Nice to see you too, Karen. Although, I can't really see you like this..." she steps back and looks the girl over; she appears to be wearing black leather trousers and a corset. "You're a cat?"
"A witches black cat," Karen nods enthusiastically, "with little ears, and do you like my tail?" she turns on the spot and wiggles.
"Very cute."
"And who are you? What's this in your hair?"
"They're snakes, darling."
"She's Medusa of course," a scary looking guy she presumes is Arthur dressed as Freddie Kruger states.
She herself thought long and hard about her costume and who she could come as apart from River Song and in a moment of genius came up with a costume for Medusa. She’s wearing a long flowing green dress with open ‘sleeves’ that only attach to the material at her shoulders and then loop around her middle finger on each hand. A snake band adorns her upper arm and she found these ribbons that she could wrap around a few of her curls with hissing snake heads at the ends, so it does in fact look like she has a head of snakes in place of her hair.
"I'm glad someone knows who I am. You look awfully frightening, love."
"I try."
Suddenly the spooky halloween music changes and 'the monster mash' comes blaring through the speakers.
"Oh I love this song," Karen squeals, grabbing Alex's hand and dragging her to the dance floor. The boys join them and before too long they are all enjoying themselves, dancing madly to 'thriller', 'the time warp' and 'purple people eater'.
Between songs Alex hears a clock chiming loudly from somewhere deep inside the building, glancing round at her friends she can see they hear it too and a slow, delighted beam spreads across Matt's face as he counts.
"It's midnight," he licks across his top lip as he claps his hands together once and winks.
"Oh no," Arthur groans, "that's when all the loonies come out."
"What do you mean?" Karen asks excitedly.
"It's a full moon," Alex supplies.
"Gotta beware of werewolves too," Matt creeps up behind Karen and places his hands on her shoulder as he leans in, as if to whisper in her ear, "haawoOoOoOooo."
"Matthew!" Alex slaps the back of his hand as Karen darts away from him with her hands over her ears.
"What?" he chuckles.
"That wasn't very nice."
"Werewolves aren't very nice," he replies.
"Oh shove off," Karen, pushes him away, "werewolves aren't real."
"Just as real as vampires," Matt waggles his eyebrows at her.
"And they're not real either, Karen," Arthur rests a calming hand on her shoulder, "so we'll all be fine." He gives Matt a look to warn him to drop the subject, and he takes the hint.
The four friends continue dancing through the night, sometimes with each other and sometimes in their own little world. Gradually getting drunker and merrier and forgetting where they are and what date it is - not that any of them really believe in hauntings or monsters in the night, so it wouldn't bother them even if they did remember.
After consuming practically an entire bottle of 'deathly white' all herself, Alex decides it's probably time to call it a night; most of the other guests made it to their beds hours ago.
Giggling and hiccoughing the group stagger from the main hall and make their way back to the entrance hall.
"Oh my god," Alex suddenly turns to the group, "did you guys see that horrifically ugly gargoyle on the way in?"
"No?"
"What gargoyle?"
"There was a fat little gargoyle at the bottom of the staircase by the entrance," she giggles, "come on," she holds her hands out to her friends, "I'll show you."
She almost skips along, pulling her friends behind her as they enter the grand entrance hall.
"Over here, look," she runs over to the bottom of the stairs and halts in her tracks at the sight. It's not there.
"Where? Alex? I don't see anything," Karen follows her, brow furrowed in confusion.
"It-It was..." she glances around her, "It was just here."
"Well it's not there now," Karen states the obvious.
"WhoOoOoOo," Matt helpfully supplies, wiggling his fingers in the girls' faces.
"Oh stop it, Matt," Karen shoves his hands out of her face. "Well, maybe it was a different staircase?" she suggests.
"No!" Alex shakes her head vehemently, "It was definitely right here. I remember. I-I-I pulled a face at it."
"Well, maybe it didn't appreciate you pulling a face at it and ran off crying," Matt jokes.
"Oh don't be so silly," Arthur interjects, "come on Kazza, it's late, let's get to bed."
Karen pulls a face at Matt as she passes him before linking her arm with Arthur and leading him up the stairs.
"See you in the morning, Alex," she calls.
"Yeah, bye then," Matt huffs sulkily before turning his attention to Alex. "What is it? What's wrong?"
She gulps before turning scared, confused eyes to her friend. "It was here, Matt."
"I believe you," he reassures her. "But Arthur's right, it is late," he looks up at the great grandfather clock on the first landing, "looks like it's nearly four." He offers her his arm and she hesitates only a moment before slipping her hand into his. He squeezes it gently and smiles before pulling her up the stairs.
"Do you believe in ghosts, Matt?" she asks, breaking the eerie silence.
"Nope."
"Me neither. What about werewolves and vampires?" she pokes him in the side, teasing him for earlier.
"Don't be silly, Alex, I was just trying to scare Karen," he chuckles.
"Yeah, I know... ah shit!" She drops Matt's hand as they reach the first landing, patting her dress down before spinning and trotting back down the steps.
"Alex?" Matt calls after her, promptly following, "Alex, what is it?"
"I left my purse in the hall," she reaches the second to last step and hops down the last two at the same time.
"Okay," he almost trips as he runs after her, "Alex, wait! I'll come with you."
Her heart stops as she reaches the doorway to the grand hall, Matt's fast, shallow breaths the only sound penetrating the sudden ringing in her ears.
"Alex?" he puffs, then takes a sharp breath in. "Woah."
"Where have they all gone?" she whispers, leaning gently against the doorframe, afraid to take another step inside.
It hasn't even been ten minutes since the four of them had left the hall; and there had still been some 'all-nighters' dancing in the corners. But now, the hall is empty. Completely. There is not even a hint of there ever having been a party at all. The decorations have disappeared and the bar and staff are gone. Nothing.
"Maybe this is the wrong hall?" Matt suggests feebly.
"You don't really believe that..." she shakes her head subtly as her eyes scan the hall for any sign of their party, of people, of her purse.
"No."
"I need my bag, Matt. It has my room key in it."
"Okay," he straightens himself up, shaking off whatever weird things may be happening, and taking her hand once more, "Let's go find that guy who opened the front door. He told me he was the master of the house - surely he's know where it might be."
"Right," she nods, "yes. Good idea."
"You never know, perhaps someone handed it in - like lost property."
They find their way back to the entrance hall and decide to take the door opposite the one they'd come out of, leading them down another dark corridor, with only the flickering candle flames to light their way.
Alex shifts her hand and interlinks their fingers, squeezing his hand to reassure herself he's still there. He returns the squeeze as they venture further and further into the depths of the mansion.
The corridor they're following eventually appears to comes to an end and another corridor crosses it, like a t-junction. Only one way is lit though, so, after glancing down to the right and seeing no more than a foot ahead of them in the dark, they decide to take the left passage.
"Matt, I'm scared, we don't know where we're going. What if we get lost?" Alex clings to him in the dim corridor as he scours the walls for doors.
"We won't get lost, you have a great sense of direction," he reassures her.
"Me?"
"And we've only been down two passages, Alex, how lost can we get?"
"I'm not sure I want to answer that," she whispers.
Alex glances around as they keep walking. The walls are bare of pictures like she'd expect to see hanging there, and they haven't come across a door since they chose this passage. She looks ahead to see their path curving round to the left, heading for what she thinks would be the centre of the building. Then she glances back and the passage curves to the right; so they have been heading slightly left for a long time now. Is the floor sloped slightly too? Or is the dark just disorientating her?
Matt trips over her foot as he watches the ceiling, bringing her back to her senses as she grabs his arm to stop him from falling.
"Sorry, darling."
"Nope, nope. My fault. Should have been looking where I was going," he takes the blame like the gentleman he is.
"What were you looking at?" she tilts her head back in order to look up when Matt gasps and covers her eyes with his hand.
"Don't look up, Alex."
The warning in his voice has a slightly frightened edge to it that sends a shiver down her spine. He can't be scared. He's her rock. He has to not believe in scary things; to not be afraid of the dark. She needs him to be brave, for her. If her best friend is scared, then she's terrified.
Her breath shakes as she whispers, "why not?" She's not sure she wants to know the answer.
"Just... do you trust me?"
"Yes, of course."
"Then just don't look."
She lowers her head and bites her lower lip with worry. "Okay." And he drops his hand from her eyes. He squeezes her hand again and she returns it before they head off down the passage once more.
They come across a short straight stretch in the corridor and although it is darker than the rest they manage to make out a set of double wooden doors in the wall. Alex sighs in relief.
"Shall I knock?" Matt asks dubiously.
Alex just rolls her eyes, steps in front of him and lifts her hand, pausing a moment before rapping her knuckles on the think wooden beams - four times in quick succession.
"Nicely done," he winks.
"Thank you."
They wait, side by side, for someone to answer the door.
But nobody comes.
The doors just sit there like an ominous decoration, unmoving and stubborn in the silence.
And it is silent.
Alex can't hear a single sound; except the quiet thud of her own heartbeat. It doesn't sound like anyone is stirring on the other side of the door.
So she knocks again.
The silence continues.
"Noone's there," she says, her timid voice sounding loud in contrast to the quiet.
Matt tries the handles, but they're locked, and pushes hard against the doors, but they won't budge. Alex sighs again, in exasperation, looking expectantly back down the way they'd come, before glancing warily toward the passage they were heading down.
"Perhaps there are more doors a bit further on?" Matt suggests, offering her his hand as before. She gives him an 'I hope you're right' look before curling her fingers around his and continuing deeper into the building.
They round the corner again as the passage takes them slightly to the left. She swears it's just taking them round in circles - they should have reached somewhere by now.
Then her ears prick up and the hairs on the back of neck stand on end and she grabs onto Matt's arm as her eyes dart about.
Someone is behind them.
"What is it?" Matt whispers, coming to a stop.
"Shh," she hushes him quickly, listening intently, but the sound has gone. Perhaps she'd imagined it.
She urges Matt on and they walk slowly down the corridor before she hears it again. Heart suddenly in her throat, she holds her breath as she forces herself to continue walking.
She can distinctly hear footsteps somewhere in the passage behind them.
She stills in fear, stopping Matt and hushing him again as he tries to speak.
The footsteps stop, but a floorboard creaks and she jumps in fright, letting out a whimper as she buries her face in Matt's chest.
"It's alright," he whispers quietly into her hair as he drops a kiss there and wraps his arms around her protectively. "Hello?" He calls out into the corridor behind them.
"Matthew!" She admonishes him in a forced whisper, barely able to make a sound through her fear, clamping a dainty hand over his mouth.
He gently pulls it away and kisses her fingertips before holding it, safe and warm against his chest.
"It's alright," he repeats, gazing encouragingly into her wide eyes. He turns his head to call out again.
"No!" she shakes her head, struggling to free her hands, "No, Matt. P-please don't. Don't say anything."
The creak sounds again, louder this time. Closer? Echoing off the walls.
"Let's just..." she pushes him in the direction they had been travelling in. "Let's keep going."
He takes her hand and she stays extremely close to him, worrying her bottom lip as the footsteps and creaking follow close behind them.
She's not sure how long they've been creeping along the passage like this before she realises she's crying. She's been trusting Matt to lead her and kept her eyes almost closed the entire way. She feels a warm tear trickle down her cheek and catch on her lip, darting her tongue out to catch the salty droplet, before sniffling.
She immediately throws a hand over her mouth in disgust, wrinkling her nose and gagging.
"Ohmygod," she rasps as she halts, "that's revolting."
"What?" Matt turns to her with concern, "What? Alex? What is it?"
"Can't you smell that?" she glances up at him with fearful, watery eyes.
Matt takes a deep breath in through his nose, then crumples in revulsion.
"Ergh," she continues, "What is that?"
"It's kinda... metallic," he sniffs again before covering his mouth.
"Let's get outta here," she grabs his hand and hurries past him.
"Alex," he doesn't move, causing her to stop in her tracks.
"What?"
"It's blood."
Her heart stops beating.
"What?"
"The smell," he confirms and suddenly she feels much too far away from him, "it's blood."
She rushes to his side and he wraps an arm around her.
"Well, do we go back then, because we know it's not there?" she asks, trembling with terror.
"But there are footsteps that way."
"And the source of the smell... the-the blood, might be that way," she nods in the direction they were going.
"We can't just stay here," he reasons.
"Yes." She disagrees, "Yes, we can. We can stay right here, and not move a muscle. Then morning will come and we'll wake up and this will all have been just a nasty dream."
"You think we're dreaming?" he asks, unconvinced.
"We have to be."
"Alex, we've been searching these corridors for hours, at what point would we have fallen asleep?"
"Shush, it is a dream. We'll be fi- "
A high, piercing, blood-curdling scream suddenly cuts her off and reverberates through the passages.
"This. Is not. A dream," Matt states, his voice low as the haunting echoes fade away. He grabs her ice-cold hand and pulls her to her feet.
The footsteps behind them break into a run.
And so does Matt, dragging a petrified Alex along with him.
On shaking legs she runs with Matt, her fingers biting into the palm of his hand; she's holding on so tightly. She makes the mistake of looking up at the walls as they pass each candle; blood dripping down the stone, and words written in it like warnings; 'turn back', 'run', 'point of no return', 'eternal darkness', 'death', 'murder'. She releases an anguished cry as she reads the last one, covering her mouth again and looking at her feet as they blur in front of her eyes.
Matt keeps a firm grip on her hand as they run down the never-ending corridor, the smell of blood and rotting flesh and death consuming them. They don't know how long they've been in this passage, how long they've been running, how much further they have to go before they find salvation, whether this is real or a nightmare.
But they can't stop now.
Suddenly Matt pulls hard on her arm and she jerks off course, falling into him as he disappears into a shadowed alcove. She feels the cold stone against her back as her chest heaves with the strain of running, gasping in mouthfuls of the foul air.
She can't see.
There is no light, and no way to tell how large or small this alcove is.
She can hear the running footsteps approaching.
Matt leans over her protectively, his hands either side of her head against the wall behind her. She can feel his breath on her face when he checks on her; a sweet smell in comparison.
She waits.
Her breathing a little less laboured. But her heartbeat so loud she's sure it could wake every guest in the building. She can feel her blood, hot, pumping through her veins. And she hopes to a God she's never believed in that it doesn't end up splattered on these walls before the night is over.
She feels Matt press her into the wall as the footsteps get closer and closer. She thinks she'd find it suffocating in a situation like this, but for a moment, she is relieved at the pressure and revels in it.
The footsteps get louder and louder and she squeezes her eyes shut, clinging to the lapels of Matt's cloak with white knuckles, keeping him near. They have been there a matter of seconds; the footsteps had been right behind them, but it feels like so much longer; like time has slowed down.
She holds her breath as the footsteps are upon them.
And then they're gone.
Time speeds up a little as she realises whoever or whatever it was hadn't noticed them inside the alcove and had continued down the passage.
She sighs with relief and sags against Matt who drops a kiss in her hair and releases her of his protective weight.
However, her relief is only momentary as she feels cool air on the back of her neck.
She gasps as she realises something is breathing behind her and stiffens at the touch of frozen fingertips against her neck, before it brushes her hair aside.
She holds her breath again. Unable to move or to speak. She wishes Matt would look back at her again and notice what is happening. But he's too busy checking the corridor is clear.
The breathing gets closer and she shivers as the hairs on her neck stand up, just behind her ear.
Then her blood runs cold.
She feels the light scrape of teeth against the skin of her throat and she's paralysed; helpless to flinch, to run, to shout. Then she realises what this creature behind her must be and her mind blacks out before she feels a shooting, burning pain in the side of her neck.
She screams.
Matt snaps his eyes to hers, grabbing her by the wrist before looking up just in time to see the disturbed bats swooping down over their heads and out into the corridor.
He jumps out into the passage, dragging Alex with him as they run back down the way they came.
"Where are we going?" Alex pants.
"Back," he supplies.
"But it's so far - what if we don't make it?"
"We will."
They both look behind them as the footsteps appear to stop. Bats flapping and screeching around them. Then they begin again. Coming after them.
"Matt?"
"Shit!"
Alex hastily kicks her heels off so that she can keep up with him as he speeds up, almost whisking her off her feet. But regrets it immediately.
The blood that was dripping down the walls, is like a stream flowing across the stone floor, pouring down the corridor and now she is running in it in bare feet.
"Oh, Matt, this is horrific," she cries, new tears springing to her eyes.
"Come on," he encourages her; the unexpected hero, "in here."
They dart into another passage off to their left and pause against the wall momentarily, catching their breaths as the bats pass by.
"This wasn't here before, was it?" Alex asks the obvious.
"I don't think so. Didn't see it," he pants.
The cloud of bats disappear and they hear the footsteps echoing down the corridor towards them.
"They're getting close again," she warns.
"Time to run again," he grabs her hand and pulls her after him.
"Look," he exclaims after what seems like an age, "a light."
"Oh thank god.
They fight their way up the steep, dark passageway; a stark contrast to the corridors they had been running through.
"It's in the tunnel," she suddenly goes white as a sheet, "I can hear it."
"Don't look back, Alex," he implores her, "don't turn around. We're nearly there."
He pushes her in front of him and she clambers up the steps and out into the light.
She turns and pulls him up the last bit before they take in their surroundings and try to breathe.
"I knew there'd be a lot of running when I joined Doctor Who," she pants, "but this is ridiculous."
"Wait," he frowns, "that's my room." He points down the corridor towards a door with the number '666' over it, then pulls he key from his pocket with a matching number.
"Six-six-six," her voice wobbles. "Why?"she whines.
The clock on the first floor landing, wherever that may now be, chimes loudly and Matt grabs her hand once more as they sprint down the corridor, away from the ominous footsteps behind them in the passageway.
Matt rattles the key in the lock as he tries to turn it and open the door.
"Come on, Matt. Come on!"
"I'm trying."
"Just open the damn door."
"I am - the key... it's stuck."
"Matt, please, come on. Hurry up!"
"Aha!"
The door swings open and they fly inside, slamming it shut behind them and locking it from the inside.
"Oh, thank fuck that's over," Alex hums, slumping against the wood.
Matt drops the keys to the floor and catches her in his arms. She wraps herself around him and buries her head in his chest as he carries her away from the door.
She wriggles in his arms and he drops her legs to the ground, his arms around her waist.
"You're my hero," she smile deliriously up at him.
"Hardly," he scoffs, "I was as terrified as you."
"Well you didn't show it," she takes him by surprise pecking him on the lips, "and that is heroic."
"Alex...?" his voice is low and wary.
"I'm gonna check out the bathroom," she purrs, winking as she saunters across the room.
He shakes himself as she enters the bathroom, before looking around their room and admiring the huge, four-poster bed.
"We have a fireplace, Alex," she hears him call to her, "I'll put it on - it's freezing in here."
She splashes her face in the basin and looks up at herself in the tiny mirror; her snakes look a little worse for wear and her mascara has run down her cheeks from all the terrified crying she's been doing. What a sight. She cleans herself up and pulls the snakes out of her hair, lining them up on the counter, before re-entering the bedroom.
"That's better," he smiles as he rises from the roaring fire.
"Mmm," she agrees, wrapping her arms around his neck once more, "cosy."
He prises her away and sits on the edge of the bed, ignoring her confused, possibly disappointed frown.
"How many chimes did you hear just now?" he changes the subject.
"Err, I don't think I counted it right," she replies, moving to perch beside him.
"No, perhaps I got it wrong too..."
"Why? How many do you think you counted?"
"Well... I'm not sure, but-"
"Thirteen?"
"Yes," he looks up at her, "I thought I counted thirteen."
"Me too. But clocks can't strike 'thirteen'..." she shakes her head; she doesn't want to believe it but then again pretty much anything is possible tonight.
"Apparently this one can."
"But," she bites her lip as she contemplates how little sense this all makes, "But you said... You said it looked like it was nearly four - when I went back for my purse. Remember?"
"Yeah, it did look like four o'clock."
"But now it's thirteen o'clock?"
"Maybe we both heard it wrong, let's not think about it... What is it?"
"The tap's dripping," she frowns in frustration, "hold on."
She steps inside the bathroom again to see the tap running, not just dripping. She huffs, turns it off and returns to Matt who is in the process of taking his cloak off.
"What are you doing?" she smiles.
"I'm not stripping," he gives her a look, "I'm just taking my cloak and waistcoat off-"
"Sound like stripping to me," she teases.
"So I can sleep more comfortably," he finishes pointedly.
"I see," she kneels up on the bed and fiddles with a curl, "so, can I take something off in order to sleep more comfortab- Oh. My. God." She growls as she jumps off the bed and darts into the bathroom again. "That bloody tap-" she shakes her head as she steps back into the room, then stops in her tracks as the fire goes out.
Matt's movements have halted too, half way through the buttons on his waistcoat.
"There must be a draft," he explains, hopping off the bed and relighting the fire.
"Right," Alex confirms warily, "yes."
"Alex, you can take off as many clothes as you like," he takes her hands in his comfortingly, "as long as you keep your underwear on."
"Where's the fun in that?" she smirks as he returns to his waistcoat, dropping it over the back of the chair he'd lain his cloak on. "Besides, I'm not wearing any," she winks, flopping backwards onto the bed and stretching languidly.
Matt chokes on his tongue and she chuckles lightly before darting up into a sitting position.
"Did you hear that?" her voice is a frightened whisper.
"Hear what-"
"That!"
"Tapping?"
"Yes."
"It's probably just the pipes or something..."
"No it's like it's trying to get our attention."
"Alex..."
"Try the window," she curls her hand around a bed post as she watches him cross the room, "it could be someone throwing stones."
He slowly opens the curtain, starting at the bottom corner, and peeks his head round to look out of the window.
"I can't see anything, Alex."
"Well, wait a second, they might appear-"
"No. I mean I can't see anything. It's pitch black out there."
"Oh."
He snaps his head round as he hears the sound again.
"It's not coming from out there anyway," he tip toes back through the room, keeping his eye on the mirror. "It's in here. With us."
"Oh my god. Matt. It's in the mirror," she says hysterically.
"How can it be in the mirror?"
"I don't know but it is," she gasps as he peers at his reflection, "don't go near it!"
He jumps back when the tapping occurs again and the fire goes out.
"What?" Alex cries. "Why's the fire gone out again."
"Don't worry, I'll just re-light it," he stoops as he strikes another match, not looking away from the mirror.
"Shit," she swears, "the tap. Again. Matt...?"
He blows the match out as the fire roars into life once more, before heading into the bathroom and turning the tap off.
"I hope Kaz and Arthur's rooms are better than this," he attempts to joke as he sits beside her on the bed. He strokes a consoling hand over her back and she feels his touch like fire on her skin, igniting her blood and heading straight for her core.
She spins in his arms, pushing him backwards and pinning him to the bed before crawling up over him and straddling his hips.
"Alex?" he chokes out in surprise, his hands naturally resting on her waist.
She moans as she feels his hands on her skin light something so deep inside her, it's almost painful. She grinds her pelvis against his and hisses at the heated contact, before bending down and crashing her lips against his, battling him for dominance and easily winning.
"Alex," he mumbles between her biting kisses, "Alex, stop. Alex. What are you-"
Constantly moving over him, she sits up and reaches between them for his belt, deftly undoing the buckle and slipping her hand into his trousers.
"Ugh... Alex." He attempts to sit up and push her off him, but she shoves him back to the bed with surprising strength before lifting her skirt out of the way and moving again. "Alex you have to stop. This isn't like you. This isn't what we are. We're friends. This - it's not you... it's not... it's not" he frowns a moment as he contemplates the devilish grin on her pretty face and the way she so desperately threw herself at him at such a simple touch. "It's not you."
He fights her hands at his crotch, pulling them away from him only to have her interlink their fingers and throw his hands down above his head, pressing them into the mattress as she licks a fiery line up his throat.
He whimpers.
He can't help it.
The woman is insatiable.
"You taste so good," she whispers in his ear, causing his trousers to tighten. She nibbles gently at the skin over his jugular and hums in delight, "your blood smells so fucking delicious." He feels the gentle scrape of her teeth against the skin of his throat and his mind catches on.
"No!" He pushes her off him. "No. No way are you drinking my blood."
She pants as she stares at him, lust and hunger burning in her eyes, her hair tousled and her dress torn. She's utterly beautiful. But he's not letting her near his throat again.
"Alex," he speaks softly, "Come on, Alex. Come back to me."
She just continues to stare at him.
"I know you're still in there."
He hears the tap start up again in the bathroom and drops his head back in frustration, before jumping out of his skin when Alex grabs his arm and hides her head in his chest again.
"Make it stop," she cries, "Make it all stop."
He holds her close as the tapping on the other side of the glass in the mirror gets more agitated. Then the footsteps from earlier are right outside their door.
The fire goes out.
"Matt," she whimpers, "I'm so scared. I can't control myself. I-I don't know what's happening."
"It's alright, Alex," he soothes, "You're alright." He watches a shadow of a man's feet and legs appear beneath the door as the tap runs and the tapping gets louder.
"What's happening to me?" she sobs, looking into his eyes and following his gaze across the room. "Matt?" They look at each other, then back at the door. "Please tell me that's not-"
"I think it is."
"Oh..." she cries, curling herself in his lap.
He lowers her down onto the covers and pulls them out from under her before lying down next to her and dragging the covers over them both, holding her close. Perhaps if they ignore it all, it'll go away. Or they'll fall asleep and realise this was all just a bad dream.
"Close your eyes, Alex," he whispers into her hair.
"I can't," she whimpers.
"Yes, you can. I know you can. You're so brave, Alex."
She shuts her eyes, tight, and shuffles closer to Matt. He wraps a hand around one of hers as she curls her other hand into his shirt, his arm on her waist keeping her near and safe.
With the fire out, a chill falls over the room like a shroud.
The shadow remains and floorboards creak outside the door.
The creature on the other side of the mirror taps the glass relentlessly.
The tap in the bathroom continues to run.
They stay there like that for what seems like hours.
Then, quite suddenly, it all seems to stop.
All Alex can hear is the sound of their mixed breathing and her pounding heartbeat.
She gradually cracks open an eye.
The shadow is gone.
The fire is still out, casting the room in absolute darkness.
Everything is quiet.
She closes her eyes again and prays for sleep to consume her.
Listening to Matt's breathing even out, she dares to smile a little in her relief.
But that doesn't last as she could swear the bed is breathing underneath her. As she takes a breath it's like someone else is taking a breath at a different time to her, she can feel it working against her. She tries to breath in sync, but, whatever it is, it's determined to breath out of time with her.
Then she feels a pressure around her chest and her stomach and she panics. It's like something has wrapped it's arms around her, from beneath, like the bed has invisible arms and it's wrapped them tight around her and she can't move.
She tries to call out to Matt, but her throat is dry and although her lips are moving her voice doesn't make a sound. She feels the pressure shift and then it's like there's a hand over her mouth.
She's helpless to do anything.
She mentally begs Matt to open his eyes and as soon as he does, all she can see is terror.
"Alex!" He calls out to her but it's as if there's a chasm between them, he can't reach her, he can't help her, he can't save her.
He's helpless to do anything.
Then he's sinking. And she's screaming inside. He's falling into the mattress like it's quicksand, and she's being pulled away from him as the arms around her become tighter and tighter, until she can't take a breath. Her eyes flutter closed in her struggle and fear consumes her as she feels the end of her life drawing near.
She can hear Matt screaming her name, but there is nothing she can do.
So she gives in.
"Alex!" he shouts, his voice fading away as he gets sucked deeper into the mattress. "Alex. Alex. Aleeexxx!"
"Alex?" He suddenly seems closer, "Alex?"
Her eyes fly open to find Matt, leaning over her, shaking her shoulders and calling her name.
"Alex? Oh, there you are. Good morning!"
She continues to panic, sitting up suddenly and glancing around the room. It's light; sunlight streaming through the curtains. She can move; she lifts her hands from the mattress and stares at them, turning them over slowly before looking over at Matt. She can breathe.
"Alex are you alright?" he asks with a furrowed brow.
"I-I," she clears her throat, "what happened?"
"You were screaming..."
"No, what happened last night?"
"Well, you lost your purse so I suggested you sleep with me," she looks at him in shock, "Not like that! Jesus woman. So, anyway, you came back to my room," he gestures about himself, "nothing happened," he gives her a serious look, "I promise you."
"Right..." she bites her lip as she contemplates his story.
"Well, okay, you kissed me-"
"I what?"
"No, no, it's fine. You kissed me but nothing happened," he calms her, "we were both rather drunk, but we passed out and now... it's the morning."
"So nothing else happened?"
"No! No, nothing - nothing like that-"
"I don't mean..." she huffs, was it really all just a horrible dream? "I mean anything, like... halloweeny?"
"Well, it was a halloween party...?"
"Yeah but did anything scary really happen..." she trails off, he doesn't seem to have a clue what she's on about so it can't have been real. "never mind."
"What do you think happened?" he asks gently holding her hand in his.
"What? Nothing," she shakes her head vehemently. "It was just a bad dream," she looks down at their hands, "a very bad dream."
"I'm sorry, Alex," he pulls her into a hug and she clings to him for dear life. If he notices it, he doesn't mention it. But she is just so glad he's here. He's alive. She's alive.
None of it was real.
They meet the others downstairs in the grand entrance before Alex's driver beeps his horn and Arthur opens the huge door for them to leave.
"That really is an ugly looking gargoyle," Karen comments as she passes Alex, linking her arm with Arthur as they head down the steps.
"Coming, Kingston?" Matt queries from the door, offering her his arm.
"Absolutely," she smiles, taking his hand and following him out the door. She glances back around the hall and up the staircase one last time, determined to put last night and all that silly, horrible dreaming behind her. Her gaze falling, finally, on the ugly gargoyle at the bottom of the stairs.
It winks.