Snippet #1219472

She wasn't sure what was going on, not one bit. What felt like just a few hours before Amber had been lying on a dusty old couch surrounded by the dusty, old, pretty much simple manor. But now, now it was different. It was exceptionally clean and almost new. She had convinced herself by now that her eyes were playing tricks on her, or truthfully she was just sleeping and in an oddly realistic dream; if only she realized that she was, in fact, sleeping, and would slumber until her duty would be completed. With a frown upon her lips she trailed through the house, heart beating soundly against her chest.

And then there was a voice. Amber froze in her shoes, eyes wide and pulse hastening. A small child; why was a child in the house? Immediatly she prayed this wasn't one of those nightmares about a child who slaughtered for fun. But then the voice cut off and there was a light scamper off feet as the girl, presumably, ran to her room. She strained to listen closely, and soon enough there was a creek of another door. Someone else was upstairs, this person older, she guessed, by the sound of their footsteps.

"H-Hello?" the brunette finally called. It was a stupid thing to do. You never called out when in suspicious situations such as this one. But both curiosity and fear was driving her to understand her predicament. What trouble had she gotten herself into?