“Hey lady… Are you able to hear me?” He slanted forward again, positioning his nose between his hands, in order to get another whiff of the atmosphere, hoping to catch a scent of the women's location. He waited to hear the unchanged words, “wake up,” from within the space of his hands, yet no sound emitted from across the bubble barrier of the dark hallway. It seemed as if there was no life beyond the point where he stood.
Aware that the atmosphere had changed tremendously again, the tiny hairs on his body shot up. Somehow, he felt compelled to be cautious behind him. Something was waiting and watching to see what he would do next. He put on a false front, pretending not to notice the drastic temperature change. As he wasn't sure if there were more surprises in this room, especially those that tangle and reacts with a change of emotions.
His raccoon would have easily been able to speak to him if something was off, but Bitz was off at the mansion on a play date with Lucie's husky familiar. Closing the bubble back up, he sensed the intense heat on his back growing fiercer than what it was seconds ago. As if the room has suddenly combusted. Cautiously, he tilted his head back and drew in a strong whiff of fumes, along with the ambiance of the flames beyond his back.
The living room, which was just a shade of monochrome a moment ago, now screamed in grueling suspense as a blazing inferno of hell began greedily devouring it whole. Peering around, using his garments to mask the smoke. All except for the portrait remained untouched by the smoke and fire, everything within the room was rapidly getting scorched.
The unknown painted lady had the corner of her lips turned up and once had her hands softly crossed to one another while holding a boutique. The way she was drawn now seems as if she was trying to escape the painting. The anguish her body was experiencing was apparent to the perceiver's eyes. She was powerless and confined within the boundaries of the canvas.
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“No.” He muttered, taking a few steps closer. “You were cursed to be forever trapped in there.” He was still incompetent to determine who she was since her face was etched out, but something about her left a level taste in his mouth.
The specs of hair shot again, “The sensation from earlier.” He thought silently to himself, keeping his eyes fixed on the lady. He wasn't convinced if he was the one in danger or if she was. Something was definitely wrong here. “Wake up…!” He widened his eyes and turned around, he sensed a nippy touch brushing the skin of his neck seconds ago.
“What do you want!?” He screamed as he watched the fire crackle above him. The fire now seemed to be approaching him faster, as if a predator were getting ready to attack. The vulnerable half-blood that stood below it was about to be bombarded.
A blaring, impaling cry can be detected from within the living room. It was not the woman's voice, he heard, but the voices of two grown men. “What the fuck is going on?” He whispered. He then tried to swat the blazing predator fire with the table cloth and cautiously rattle his way towards the shrieking males, from across the room.
The fumes of the burning room were not making it any easier for him to breathe. There wasn't much ventilation at the moment. “Please, Wake up.” The voice was now behind him. Falling to his knees, he peered back toward the location of the sound. “What kind of fucking living room is this?” He gasped as he struggled to speak.
He turned and watched the barrier of the bubble, that was heading to the voided hall. It shouldn't be this strong against any type of magical flame. He thought to himself, as he stood up. “Unless this is just a regular, plain fire?” He faced the painting, but all that was left was the color of the background, she was nowhere to be seen.