The laughter from the darkness followed her up the path to the door of the lighthouse, growing louder. She bit her lip to keep from screaming in terror and grabbed at the handle, jiggling it. Locked? Was it locked?

It turned, and she stumbled inside.

She shut the door behind her, trembling and wheezing, whimpering. She locked it with the deadbolt on the other side and collapsed, curling up with her back to the door.

It grew louder, the laughter. She shoved her hands over her ears, closing her eyes so hard that colors burst inside her eyelids.

All she wanted was to feel safe.

Couldn’t she, just once, feel safe?

Ah!

Her eyes peeled open, and she scrambled to see if she had the talisman.

No, simply the pink shell in her pocket. She sighed. The laughter was reaching its peak, and she glanced around the room, her heart louder than her breathing.

It was a hallway leading to the spiral stairs case with rooms on either side. On the right side was a bedroom. She pulled the red blanket off of the bed, sliding a pillow with it. It landed on the floor with a soft thump. She covered herself up, wrapping the blanket tightly around her and used the pillow to cover her head. She slid under the bed and waited, curled up tightly, eyes shut tight.

The muffled laughter crescendoed, forcing its way inside her head. She bit her bottom lip, the pain preferable to the fear-induced insanity that tempted its way into her brain. Louder, louder, inching its way forward, it crawled like a worm and made her clutch herself tighter into a ball.

It hit a peak and started to fade. Slowly, it diminished a little bit each minute, or second, or hour. Leena could not tell how long it had been, but it felt like hours. The laughter died, and the worm in her head left, leaving Leena with tears streaming down her cheeks and sobs erupting unwillingly from her mouth.

She breathed heavily with the pillow hot against her head. Air. She needed air.

She held the blanket close as she peeked her face out from under the pillow towards the hallway. Cool air filled her nostrils, and she breathed slowly, trying not to gasp as she trembled.

A glow of lamp illuminated the hallway. Shadows bounced around the hall in the room in the light of a flame. The floor was made of a dark wood, cold and creaky. The bed above her was high enough for her to fit under, but her back was snug against it.

But the smell. She smelled lavender. The blanket smelled of lavender. Lavender? And something else. A faint smell that she tried to identify but couldn’t manage to place. It wasn’t good, but the lavender was overwhelming. She breathed in deeply, feeling a sense of calm, even as she still felt uneasy.

She crawled out from under the bed, dragging the blanket with her. She stared at the room across the hall.

It was a small kitchen. A table with two chairs and a lamp was in the middle. A small pipe stove was in a corner and some cabinets were on the other side. A door that led to the bathroom was on the left side of the room.

Leena realized she really had to use the bathroom. Thankfully, she hadn’t wet herself in her fear, but it was threatening, so she quickly used the bathroom in the other room, dragging the blanket with her, dropping it outside the door.

Once relieved, she felt a burst of fear and shame.

Lights were on.

The bed was made.

There was little dust.

Someone must live here.

She finished up quickly, washing her hands in a small sink in the kitchen. The soap was already wet.

She tried to put the blanket back on the bed neatly, shaking too much for it to be as neat as she remembered.

She heard a voice, a mumble. All of Leena’s senses were alert as she glanced around nervously. She saw something move out of the corner of her eye.

“Ah! I’m sorry!” she said, turning to the hallway, “I didn’t mean to ruin your bed. I’m sorry.”

Footsteps. Leena shivered, backing up towards the window by the wall. Maybe if she needed to, she could break it and run.

A slippered foot, a red dress, a tall woman was framed in the doorway of the bedroom. Her dress draped from her waist and arms, flowing. Her blond hair was swept up in curls behind her head. Her eyes were bright red, her nose hooked like a hawk’s beak. Her lips were curled upwards in an eerie, gentle smile. Leena smelled the scent again, the one she did not recognize, from her. It was stronger and unpleasant.

“Who is this?” the lady asked, her voice like wire rubbing on glass. Leena cringed a bit.

“I’m-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bother you, or anything. I just was running away-“

“It’s fine. It’s fine,” the lady waved her hand back and forth, “What’s your name?”

Leena hesitated, sensing something dark. Dark. Darkness. Her eyes were red.

“My name is Kana,” she said, using her mother’s name. The lady’s face darkened a bit.

“Okay…Kana…” she said, turning her back and walking to the kitchen, “Would you like some tea?”

“I don’t want to impose.”

“You’re already imposing. Come sit with me.” Leena sat at the kitchen table. The chair creaked a bit under her weight. She clasped her hands on her lap, watching the lady move gracefully. The teakettle was already warming up. The cups barely clinked as the lady set them on the small table.

“Do you take sugar or milk?” the lady asked, pulling out matching green containers.

“N-no thank you.”

“I always love a bit of sugar with my tea. Helps ease the bitterness a bit,” the lady replied, and she promptly dumped a bit in each cup, scooping with a small spoon. She tapped a few teaspoons of tea into a matching green teapot and seated herself on the opposite chair.

“Now, tell me, Kana,” she purred, “What brings you here?”