*please play music.

❝Him.❞

Once upon a time, the little girl just could not sleep because her thoughts were way too deep, her mind had gone out for a stroll and fallen down a rabbit hole...

Her gentle footsteps echoed in the hushed night. Tiny clicks from her heels resonated in her ears, while the light pants fled to bid away from the eerie darkness descended upon her. 

She halted to lean down and lift her capacious gown. The red, swollen sight of her blistering toes caused her to wince at its horrid appearance. Her eyes examined the black floral heels. Its exquisite, yet menacing design crawled its way up to her skin, wrapping her ankles in place like a captured slave. Five inch stilettos raised her higher up to the sky than she was before, with the slight touch of sparkles that almost pushed her off the edge. 

She huffed in displeasure. It was true, in fact, that the heels were elegant, however it was an ignorance to disregard the scathing pain it clawed at her bloody toes. 

Letting go of her fabric, she does not forget to clamp her bottom lip with her teeth, in hopes of resisting the throbbing agony as she resumed to walk. 

Umber orbs cast below. Irregular shapes and sizes fill in her vision. Its light grey, delicately carved concrete reflected back her lonely shadow. The silhouette puddled beneath her feet, melted into the gloom of dusk. She curiously outlined the structure as it copied her movements like a glass mirror. The concealed, loom figure did nothing, but slithered balefully to follow its master. 

Musty, subtle decay reached her nostrils. The strong, ashy smoke ridged her nose at the burning smell as it danced across the wind.

The moist, dampened air clung to her skin like a baby. The back of her hands mildly dabbed off the heat to prevent the streaming pool, which trickled down her neck and onto the gaps of her collarbone. 

Ancient slate walls soared in the charcoal sky. The stones glimmered in the silken moonlight, which boasted their finely ostentatious detail on the dusty, blackened glass windows. The verdant, furry moss s its way, grasping onto the stiff rocks of the barrier like a disheveled beard. Dull, lifeless ivy leaves meandered behind the viridescent wooly lichen to claim its solid possession. The once illustrious turrets lost its perfect structure, as evident cracks were seen like a shattered mirror. Narrow, curvy crevices ran across the aged fortress, patiently waiting for the day it will all crumble down like falling dominoes in a sweep heap to finish the demolition it had already begun.

The thought of whatever happened here perked her interest. Thick, half-ruined walls arched in a peculiar shape, forgetting its original frame. Every flutter from the leaves falling from the frigid air withdrew her shallow breath. 

The trees that engulfed around the castle like a swarm of armies, failed to soothe down her troubles. Far away, she glimpsed at the branches, twisted like distorted limbs in attempt to snatch her away in the midst of the foggy night. Their sprawling legs stretched across the land to guard the darkness within, to hinder out any scintillating light that leaked down from the silver moon, deeply afraid that the illuminating ooze would reveal their most precious and ominous secrets. 

Birds flew out the convert, eldritch woods. Their vile, sharp cries pierced her fragile ears, like they needed to bolt away from the frightening terror of this ghostly place. 

When she arrived at the enormous entrance doors, she avoided looking at the grimy, paled statues that towered over her. If she took the time to study the old sculpted animals that secured the palace, she would have noticed the small glistering gesture in their pitch-black eyes. She would also not have come to the idea if the spiritless, hostile eyes watched her every faint action.

Her fist was soon raised to knock on the entry. She hesitated, suddenly fearful of the uncertain riddles that lurked beyond these doors. 

But before she could can come to an understanding with herself, she had already felt the rigid, cold surface beneath her knuckles. The powerful thump vibrated, smashing the dead stillness of the nightfall, where even the uncanny trees had dared to flinch from the unexpected motion.

There, the innocent girl remained. One of the entrance doors gradually snapped open, releasing a deafening, inflexible, and ugly squeal to welcome her in the mysterious home. 

As she made her way inside, she did not realize the inaudible voice that sang through the dead twilight.

"Walls have ears.

Doors have eyes.

Trees have voices.

Beasts tell lies.

Beware the rain.

Beware the snow.

Beware the man

You think you know"

(Fisher).

The door instantly shut itself when she took a step in. Her hair whipped across her face to the unpredicted scene, feeling the forceful strike her heart made against her rib cage.

She slowly walked on the luxurious, red velvet carpet as it came from all the way up onto the peak of the stairs. The grand staircase was not anything she had ever seen. One set of stairs on each side, soon came together to create one whole coming down to the middle of the room. Dark golden handrails curved toward each other, as the decorative and classic balusters twined beneath to display their polished presentation. 

She was too astonished admiring the sovereign designs, she did not regard the heavy, tall portrait that settled in between the royal staircase. But when she did, her head leaned to the side in wonder. Like being cast under a spell, her feet began to move on its own toward the mystical frame on the wall.

Her eyes gazed on the oil painting, exploring the family of three. The parents, which she assumed, stood with modesty as their hands rested upon the shoulder of their only son. Wearing an awful lot of jewels and exorbitant finely made clothing made him stand out, as he comfortably sat on his soon-to-be throne. Savage, brutal scratch marks struck on the illustration, which covered the face of the son. Without knowing, her petite fingers gently touched the fragile, yet flawed artwork. Caressing the harsh scrape, makes her ponder aloud. She chose not to pull away her hand when she felt the spiraling shock after the hideous scars she soon to pity. Once she retreated her hand back, all she could do was simply stare at the damaged, but magnificent piece of art.

Unforeseen, tiny voices reiterated in her ears.

Cold sweat broke out onto her skin, nervously trembled at the quiet mutters taunting her mind. 

“Did you see that?”

A chilling creak creeps from the corridors. An uneasy breeze blew down and grasped her with its icy touch. Her head jerked to find the owner of the voice. Out of nowhere, she shivered, not being able to recognize if it was because of the odd freezing air, or the petrified emotion that quavered down to the edge of her spine.

“It’s a girl! A beautiful girl!"

“Yes, I can see it’s a girl; I’ve lost my hands, not my eyes.”

“What if she is ‘the one’? The one master has been talking about!”

“Oh, hush, you!"

Her body swiftly turned around, alarmed. She ran to get the candle holder on the handrail for her protection. With a shaky breath, she gulps, clenching both her hands tightly on the handle. 

“Where are you? Come out,” she demanded.

Silence drifted amongst her and the undetected guests, until she heard the soft rustling. 

“Right here."

“What?” she whispered, puzzled.

She glanced around, to find anger rushed through her face like they had mocked her. 

 “Down here."

The girl let out a high-pitched scream when she saw a moving three-armed flaxen candelabra, and a moving clock. Flinging her candle holder on them, she gasps.

“W-w-wait! We mean no harm!”

 “Well, you sure are strong; what an excellent quality to have.”

She warily backed away from the speaking objects, eyebrows furrowed in deep thought of how this could be possibly happening.

“W-who are you?”

“Why, my name is Doyoung. My friend here is Taeil. We are with great pleasure to meet you.”

“…Where am I?”

“You are in the charming home of the royal family, of course!” — Doyoung then coughed — “well, used to be charming, that is.”

“What happened here?” she asked, her tone dripped with worry.

“Are you certain this is the girl master had talked about?” the clock, named Taeil, mumbled to his friend. 

“Well, why would she not?”

“She seems…unfamiliar here.”

“There must be a reason why. Look at her —  it is exactly how master had described her!"

“As they always say, ‘Looks can be deceiving.’”

“Pardon for the interruption, but will you please answer my question?” She awkwardly tugged down a piece of a fabric from her crimson gown at their strange conversation they were having about her.

“Our apologies, My Lady,” they bow to her.

“My Lady?” she cringed at the formal address.

“As to your question, we believe it is best for you to ask our master, himself.”

“Master?” she restated. “Well, where is he?”

“Allow us to show you the way, My Lady,” Doyoung insisted.

“Thank you for your kindness,” she commented, while the two strode beside her.

“Absolutely! Anything for you, My Lady. Besides, we have not had a guest in years—“

“Years?!” she slightly elevated her voice, baffled at the surprising news. 

“Are you not aware of the foulness and destruction of this place, My Lady? For example, this little room we are heading in right now. Antiques broken, curtains ripped to shreds, tables crushed in pieces — careful for your step there.”

“O-oh, I have, actually. I just…never fully acknowledged it.”

“That is alright.”

“Except for one thing” — she ingested the empty, tasteless air — “I have took note on the painting earlier.”

“Oh, yes! The portrait of the royal family.”

“I saw so many scratch blots, particularly on the son. It is a shame that a sumptuous canvas, like this, is ravaged.” A sorrowful frown emits on her angelic face. “It makes me terribly distraught to what had provoked this dreadful mess in the first place.”

“You will shortly find out,” Taeil promised. 

No one had said anything else as they resumed their little journey. Then, the reckoning thought wandered in the girl’s head. 

“If I may ask, how are you two able to talk?”

“You, My Lady.”

“Huh?”

“Imagination is the only weapon in the war against reality.”

“But how does that relate to this?”

“It relates everything to this."

“Do you not follow?” Taeil adds to what his friend said.

She replied, “Follow what?”

“Imagination is the reality of the dreamer.”

“What do you-“ when she whirled around, she did not expect to see the two objects departed on the floor, “..mean?”

They laid lost on the ground as she bent down to check on them. All there was was the ticking sound of the clock and a motionless candelabra. 

“Doyoung? Taeil?”

There was no response, which was when she had perceived that all it was, were just normal objects. 

She went up to her feet, dazed. Her outrageous ideas clouded her mind: was she just imagining them? Was it really real? Is this palace haunted?

She did not know…

Lifting her dress, she planned to leave the abnormal castle. Her guts felt unpleasant on the hair-raising atmosphere, and all she wanted was to get the hell out. 

But earlier than she could, a soothing melody was caught in the air. 

It called her like a hypnotizing reverie. The divine keys swirl through her head, goosebumps shooting up against her bare skin as it itches her fingers to wiggle. It was mellow and full of emotion that synced in harmonious notes, which somehow made her feel nostalgic. 

Her eyes closed to vision herself dancing away in the midst of a hidden world. Stars looked above her, birds watched in peace, the lovely fragrance from the beautiful flowers surrounding her. 

Her eyelids snapped open, intrigued to figure out where the familiar, fluid tone had come from.

Darting her head back and forth between the entrance doors and to where the music was heard, resulted her to feel conflicted. She peered at Doyoung and Taeil, again. 

her lips, she decides to f