The house of Sirens

The first rays of light streamed from a small orange orb that seemed to get bigger when it gradually rose above the horizon. Its radiant orange glow turned the early morning cloudless sky into a mixture of reds, yellows, and oranges as it lit up the magnificent, picturesque Bay of Greymore. Its reflection shimmered off the surface of the calm, indigo-blue ocean. Over the sounds of distant cries from seabirds came the soothing swishing sounds of gushing gentle waves that washed up onto the sandy shores and drenched the golden sand. Along the sheltered coast was a small commune coastal town called Hamlet. The desolate, craggy mountains of Wrenlock soared high into the cerulean coherent sky above the bay and bustling town.

On the corner of an old medieval street called the Olde Hallows Street, in a shady part of the town, was a large, newly refurbished spa called the House of Sirens.

The owner of the deluxe spa had recently moved to the town from the city, along with several other workers that worked in the firm that he owned. Something about Roman architecture fascinated him and inspired him to have the spa built to look like a Roman Domus.

On the outside, a continuous porch of marble columns surrounded the luxurious Roman-style villa, dotted around the garden were a variety of exotic flowers, along with two large marble water fountains in the middle.

Whereas the interior of the lobby looked much like an atrium inside a Roman Domus. Its mosaic floor span the floor of the large lobby. Its elaborate frescoes and paintings of mythical creatures covered the walls, from the end of the hall to the reception, where a woman in her early 30s sat at a large red mahogany desk. Behind her stood a dusty old bookcase full of unusual looking books.

She sat in silence as she typed on the computer. Her honey-brown eyes focused on the large screen like a magnet while she typed out the rest of the report. Her manicured purple nails clicked loudly on the keyboard. She felt a cool breeze that came from the desk fan blow through her long, flowing black hair. She reclined in the chair and crossed one fairly tanned slender leg over another and relaxed. Now and then, she slipped her heel in and out of her shoe as she keyed in the next paragraph. Her eyes filled with annoyance at the task at hand, deep in thought.

'Why do I have to re-write the same report? When it is no different to the other one?′

She looked up from the laptop and watched as her boss, George, stormed out of the office and slammed the door shut behind him with a loud bang that made her jump.

George was a tall, middle-aged man with brown hair and green eyes. He wore an immaculate brown suit and matching tie with a pair of black shoes.

He strode in her direction and wore a dark expression on his stern-looking face. She could tell from the way his brows furrowed, something had annoyed him and since she hadn’t finished the report; she expected he would shout at her.

“Have you finished that report yet?” demanded George as he strode up to the desk.

“I will have it done by the end of my shift,” replied Erlyn. She looked down at the laptop while she continued typing. “I’m sorry that I haven’t completed it yet.”

“Just make sure it’s finished before you go home,” George demanded harshly.

He looked at his watch to see what time it was before he glanced at the bookcase behind her. She looked over her shoulder to see what had caught his attention, but all she could see was the old bookcase.

“What are you looking at?” asked Erlyn as she looked at George.

“Nothing.” George snapped, his voice harsh as he stormed off into his office and slammed the door behind him with a loud bang.

She turned and looked at the old bookcase and wondered what George had looked at. Silently, she got up and walked towards the bookcase. She studied the old books suspiciously, as she ran her fingers across the worn spines, reading each of the titles carefully until she came across a book titled Offerings to the Cult.

She stood on her tiptoes to reach the top shelf the book sat on. Pulling it down, she looked at the dusty old cover of a young woman being surrounded by hideous looking creatures. As she opened the book to the first page, she began to read it quietly to herself, and what she found in the first pages sent goosebumps up her spine.

“Erlyn, is George here?” Arthur asked.

Jumping, Erlyn grasped for the book before it could fall on the floor.

“Yes, he’s in his office,” she replied to him.

Arthur’s grey eyes darted from Erlyn to the book, as he tried to keep his lips from curling into a smile.

“Careful, that book will give you nightmares,” he smirked as he walked towards George’s office.

She forced a chuckle as she closed the book and placed it back on the shelf. Turning around to face the desk, she heard something loud stirring behind the shelf. It sounded like footsteps behind the bookcase. She shook her head and summed up the pages she had read in her imagination since there was nothing behind the bookshelf except the light orange-coloured drywall that kept this place in a calming mess. Sitting down and putting headphones in to block out the yells of Arthur and George, she resumed writing the report for her boss.

Her nails clicked on the keyboard as she hummed along to the song playing in her ears. She just finished the report and emailed it to George, when suddenly, she felt something warm on the back of her neck. Her face suddenly turned ashen, and her lips and chins trembled. Her fingers froze to the keyboard and her body was stiff with terror. Paralysed with fear that froze her to the chair, her heart thumped loudly in her chest. She swallowed and took a deep breath. She felt someone behind her and as she opened her mouth to scream for help, something grabbed hold of her and put a dark grey hand over her mouth. Its sharp black nails dug into the skin of her cheek.

The creature dragged her off the chair as it hit the floor with a loud bang. It slowly dragged her away as her feet banged on the floor as loudly as her red pumps would allow her. She struggled wildly against the attacker until one of her heels fell off and hit the floor. It hauled her towards the bookcase where a hidden doorway had opened into the darkness. She clawed at the attacker’s hands with her nails as she tried to pull his hand away. She tried to dig her heels into the floorboards in hopes of slowing them down, but it wasn’t working. A muffled scream left her mouth as she disappeared into the eerie darkness where her fate awaits her. The door slammed shut behind them with a loud bang.

George stomped out of his office and yelled, “What is making all this noise?”

He stopped mid-sentence when he saw the red pump by the bookcase and noticed that his secretary's gone. He grimaced when he saw the scuff marks on the floor as he picked it up and hurried back to his office and closed the door.