There was little Emily liked better after a long and exhausting week than a luxurious scented bubble bath and a good book. The hot water seemed to soak all of her worldly stresses away, as she escaped into the work of her favorite romance author. Sure, it wasn't high literature, but sometimes a girl needs to disappear into the life of an 18th-century heiress aboard a ship being attacked by pirates.
Just as the heroine was exchanging her first words with the roguishly handsome pirate captain, Emily was plunged into darkness. A jolt of fear shot up her spine and she sat upright in the bathtub. What was going on? All was dark and silent, save for the splashes made by her limbs and the occasional pop of a bubble.
The electricity had tripped, that was all. It wasn't the first time. Emily's building wasn't the newest or best maintained in this part of the city, though the landlord was forever promising to fix the wiring. Still, it was strange for the power to trip now of all times, when Emily wasn't using any appliances and her roommate was out of town.
If she'd gone with her original plan of lighting some candles around her bath and reading in the flickering half-light, Emily may not even have noticed. Unfortunately, she was out of candles and had been unable to bear the thought of leaving the house again to buy more. Because of that, she would now have to interrupt her bubble bath and go fiddle with the switchboard if she ever wanted to learn the details of the heiress's first meeting with the pirate captain.
Sighing deeply, Emily deposited her book on the shelf behind the bathtub and lifted her body from the water. Bubbles clung to her skin as she stepped out of the bath and onto the rough-hewn stone floor.
Rough-hewn stone? That wasn't right. Where was her fluffy bathroom mat? Where were the tiles? In the pitch darkness of the power outage, she could see nothing, but the sensation of cool and uneven stone beneath her soles was unmistakable.
Panic set in. "This is impossible," she whispered to herself, hoping to hear the comforting sound of her own voice. But the way it echoed in that vast place frightened her even more. Although she could see nothing of her surroundings, the absolute silence around her and a strange new chill in the air told her that this wasn't her bathroom anymore.
Emily stepped forward, groping blindly and in vain for the towel rail, or the basin, or any other familiar feature of her bathroom, but her hands grasped only empty air. She stumbled forward, eyes slowly adjusting to the darkness.
After she had traversed many times the length of her bathroom, her outstretched hands made contact with a rough stone wall, of similar texture to the floor. She let her hands travel across it, taking in every crack and bump, feeling the coldness of it.
Once her eyes had grown accustomed to the dark, she turned away from the wall to survey this strange place. The room was vast, with walls, floor and ceiling made of the same rough gray stone. The great height of the ceiling made her feel even smaller than her slightly below average stature.
In the center of the room, where she had walked from, sat a stone slab about the same size and shape as her bathtub, hollow and filled with water. Aside from these details, it looked nothing like her bathtub. There was no sign of the great white mounds of bubble bath she had used half a bottle to make, or of the book she'd laid down mere moments ago. She was going to have to wait to find out what the pirate captain said to the heiress.
Emily's chestnut-brown hair clung to her skin, down to her mid-back. A few loose tendrils fell about her heart-shaped face, sticking to her lightly freckled cheeks and nose. There was a slight chill in the air, and she looked down at herself, hazel eyes wide.
Her pale skin seemed almost to glow in the darkness, spotted by droplets of water and a few slowly shrinking clumps of rose-scented bubble bath. Trickles of water slid down the small of her back and onto the curve of her bottom. They slid from the nape of her neck, through the valley between her breasts, down to the short, matted hair between her legs. The sensations were too strong for this to be a dream.
She was no longer in her bathroom, her apartment, or anywhere she'd ever been before, and the only thing she had on her entire body was a black elastic hair tie that was a permanent fixture on her wrist while her hair was down.
The only exit to the room was a simple archway a few feet away from her, which disappeared into a dark hallway. Gathering up her courage, Emily walked towards the archway, her fingers trailing against the stone wall. As she peered down the hallway beyond, she could make out a faint source of light in the distance.
It was a torch, flickering and casting dim, dancing shadows on the stone walls. Emily hesitated for a moment, wondering if she should remain in the room and wait for someone--or something--to find her. Better to be proactive, she decided. If nothing else, it would be better to stand in the light and heat than this dark and cold. Clutching her wrist and nervously toying with the elastic hair tie, she took a deep breath and approached the light.
The corridor was long and winding, but the torchlight grew brighter with each step. Emily's footsteps echoed in the silence, every sound magnified in the stillness of the place. As her surroundings brightened, she began to notice details too: abstract carvings on the walls and a procession of torches along each side of the hallway. She could also hear faint whispers, what sounded like murmured conversation.
As she continued forward, Emily could now discern the source of the whispering. It came from a larger chamber up ahead, bathed in a soft glow. Her heartbeat quickened as she approached it, and the whispers grew louder and more distinct. There were definitely people up ahead!
The thought made her footsteps slow as she considered the potential danger ahead. She was in a unfamiliar place, like nowhere she'd ever been before. Would these people be friendly? Would she be able to understand them? Their voices were still too soft and intermittent for her to make out what language they spoke. What would they make of her sudden and unexpected appearance?
Even if they were friendly, she was about to encounter them without a stitch of clothing, still dripping wet from her bath. Her cheeks burned, and she wished for something, anything, to cover herself. But the stone hallway was bare of all but the torches set into the walls.
Having no better option, Emily wrapped her arms around herself to preserve what scraps of modesty she could. She would just have to deal with her embarrassment and enter the chamber like this. If the castle's inhabitants were decent people, they would give her something to wear. And if they weren't... Emily shuddered, forcing the thought of being thrown naked into a dungeon from her mind.
After much trepidation, Emily stepped into the chamber at the end of the hallway. It was a grand room, better lit than the dim hallway, by an enormous chandelier of glowing crystals that hung from the center of its domed ceiling.
But what truly caught Emily's attention were the statues. The chamber was lined on either side by rows of statues, each carved from different types of stone and metals. They depicted humanoid figures, ranging from ordinary men and women to figures with animal heads, to hulking beasts that stood on two legs. She recognized some as fauns, satyrs and gargoyles, while others were entirely alien. While most stood at attention, there were a few seated figures, as well as some captured in dancing poses. Curiously, many of the statues were turned to face each other, as if in conversation.
The whispering Emily had heard in the hallway, previously so constant, had ceased. Had this chamber really been its source? There was no one here but the statues, their immobile stone faces peering down at Emily with dead eyes. She shivered and drew her arms tighter over her body.
Maybe the whispering people had left the room just as she'd entered. Could they be afraid of her? What a thought! They had nothing to fear from a poor, lost, naked girl. Emily strained her ears to hear if the whispers had started up again somewhere else, but heard nothing. All was still and silent in the chamber.
Emily allowed her arms to relax at her sides, as no one was around to see her. Had she imagined the whispers? No, they had been far too distinct and continuous, and they'd only stopped the instant she entered the chamber.
