trunk-sized branches jutting out in every direction. A field of calla lilies lies in the foreground between two branches that hang just inches above the ground. A slight fog hangs in the sky, depicted through delicate shadowing and blurring.
The drawing is done in only black ink, but my imagination fills in the colors. I can almost smell the sweet perfume of the flowers and feel the gentle warm breeze blow through my hair.
I carefully flip to the next page where I discover even more beauty. A rocky hillside, spotted with lofty evergreen trees and moss-covered boulders holds a young girl. She has long, wavy hair that falls across her shoulders and flows down her back. She wears an ankle length white gown with long sleeves and is perched on a rock, hiding her face in her folded arms. Her anonymity intrigues me. I wonder if she could be the Emma in the journals, or perhaps one of her lost sisters.
I turn the page again to a much darker drawing. The ink is heavier, and the mood is solemn. It appears to be a forest at night. There are many tall, branchless tree trunks surrounded by a heavily shaded ground spotted with fallen trees and their remaining stumps. Moonbeams shine through the trees and illuminate the outline of a human figure peering out from behind a tree. A chill rushes over my body as I catch my first glimpse of the hidden creature.
Its features are shrouded in darkness. The only way to distinguish it from the trees is by the bright beams of moonlight creating a harsh outline around its edges. It has a human shape and size, but does not appear to be clothed or have hair. I scan the remainder of the image for other hidden creatures but do not find any.
The hair on the back of my neck stands on end as I hesitantly turn the page to an even more frightening image. It's a drawing of what I assume is the hidden creature. Its humanity ends at the shape and size of its body. The creature's skin looks like a combination of tree bark and rocks, which I assume allows it to camouflage itself. Its eyes are black and hollow, its body hairless. Its teeth are all fanged. The label under the drawing states that the creature is called a bettinger.
There is a somewhat faded description. From what I can make out, the bettinger lurks in the darkness waiting for an unguarded moment of weakness to attack its prey. One final sentence takes my breath away. “Feeds on the blood of the unisus.”
I have no idea what a unisus is, but a creature that feeds on blood of any kind is enough to worry me.
The water in the shower turns off and snaps me back to reality. I set the journal carefully down on the bed, lean back against the headboard and turn to look at the clock on the nightstand. 10:03. I sigh heavily at the fifty-seven minute wait.
I look around the room at nothing in particular, too unsettled to focus on anything. Soft voices that appear to be coming from the hallway catch my interest. I can't make out what they are saying, but I am inexplicably intrigued. My gaze focuses on the door. The voices sound like gentle whispers at first but quickly build in intensity. More and more of them sound out, their voices overlapping. My attention becomes mysteriously drawn to the pendant. I pull it out from under my shirt and rub my thumb gently over it. I turn it sideways and look down at it, staring at its intricate twirling pattern. I suddenly realize, the voices are coming from within the pendant.
The doorknob squeaks as Zoë turns it. All at once the voices disappear and the trance they put me in vanishes. I drop the pendant back inside my t-shirt as she steps out of the bathroom, clean from her shower but wearing the same clothes she had on before.
“Find anything else informative in there?” she obliviously asks as she walks across the room and takes a seat on the edge of the other bed.
I quickly pull myself together before answering. “There are some pretty interesting drawings in this journal,” I say as I grab it off the bed and pass it to her. “I’ve only looked at a few so far, but they were pretty spooky.”
The journal is still open to the page with the drawing of the bettinger. Zoë