3 Fright of the Night
January 1st, 1941
Humming a light melody under her breath as she went, a young woman with ginger hair patrolled the halls for the seventh time that night, her footsteps faint.
On her chest, there was a badge with four stars and it read, "Edith Leroy."
"I wonder when the rain will come to a stop," She sighed, her voice hushed.
Gazing out the window, the wind howled and raged, banging against the walls of the edifice. Ever since the day Edith had been hired, it had been raining for two weeks straight.
At this point, it was impossible to head down the mountain.
She had heard the chefs and maids from the kitchen complaining amongst themselves recently with hushed voices. Like rats, they scurried and scampered for what little supplies they had.
Some even insisted and demanded that the newer servants head down the mountain to buy supplies.
However, no one was willing to do so.
Snow, hail, rain, and continuous thunderstorms- all inhabitants of the mountain were practically trapped. The snow and hail had frozen all routes whilst the rain veiled the world.
In the face of such weather, some maidservants even joked that if they had a ladder, they could touch the sky and reach the heavens.
'Well, hopefully, the rain will come to a stop soon.' Edith thought.
Turning the corner, she was almost done with her night patrol when suddenly, something appeared to grab her ankles from the darkness.
"What in the world?!" She shrieked, her face turning pasty white as panic seized her heart.
Whatever had touched her ankle was also awfully cold and pulpy. Not only that, the air reeked; it smelled like decomposing vegetables and rotten meat.
Though Edith was certain she was the only one within that hall, she couldn't help but tremble. She was certain that there was something else within the vicinity, something living and breathing.
'Perhaps it was a child who snuck out?' Edith thought, consoling herself. That wouldn't be impossible; perhaps one of the sisters hadn't noticed a child sneaking out—they are quite smart and mischievous after all.
It certainly wouldn't be the first time the children had tried pulling a prank on them.
"...But," She paused, "What is that noise?"
Holding her oil lantern close to her chest, the young woman continued patrolling the halls, but at a slower pace and with far more caution than before.
As Edith continued walking, the noise became louder and clearer.
It sounded hoarse, like an infant or perhaps a toddler weeping. However, there were no children of that age who resided in the building.
Abruptly, she froze and recalled the rumors the other sisters had teasingly told her. Tales of the supernatural, ghosts, demons-
'…There's no way it's a ghost, get a hold of yourself, Edith.' She thought, shuddering.
Thump. Thump.
Edith remained where she stood, listening to the rain and the occasional thundering strikes of lightning. She patted her arm and softly exhaled, murmuring words of self-encouragement and consolement.
But, alas, when she realized the noise had been coming from outside all along, her stomach dropped.
The thunderstorm...!
Even if a child—or whatever it was—had gotten up here with a carriage, she would've known. The loud clattering wheels and neighing of horses could not be disguised even in the face of the pouring rain and strikes of thunder.
Regardless of the gnawing fear in her heart, Edith took out her keys, unlocking the entrance.
She was naturally frightened by the prospect of the supernatural, but even more so, she felt pity. Mentally, she repeated words of comfort to herself once more.
'Ghosts and spirits are not real, get a grip, Edith! There's a child outside in this weather!'
Finally, she braced herself and opened the door.
Laying in front of the entrance was a young child, perhaps four or five years old. The young woman sighed; she was relieved that it wasn't what she feared, but a child.
Dressed in rags, the poorly stitched-up fabric looked far too big for the child. On the collar of the rags, letters were stitched into the cheap fabric. It read, "Ines."
"Oh dear..." The young woman murmured, noticing a slight pink flush on the child's face.
Most definitely, the poor kid had caught a fever, she thought. The child was feverishly warm, and they furiously shook and shivered, goosebumps forming all over their exposed limbs.
Putting down her lantern, Edith took off her sweater, placing it over the child's body.
"There there," She soothed. Bending down, the young woman carefully swept the child up into her embrace.
Standing under the canopy, she gazed at the child, Ines, with a conflicted expression. If she were to bring the child into the building, the Head Mistress would surely have her head. But if she didn't, the kid may die from hypothermia.
Edith's grip loosened, and she bent back down, ready to set the kid back down on the ground. Though she did feel sorry, crossing the Head Mistress wasn't a good idea.
"Sorry..." She mumbled.
Beneath her feet, Ines' shadow slowly detached itself from her feet and slithered onto Edith's body.
Edith stilled.
"What was I doing? How could I neglect an ill child?" She chided herself. Picking the kid back up, Edith ran inside, the doors closing behind her.
Careful as to not awaken those who were asleep, the young woman took cautious steps as she paced up the many floors. Occasionally, she would stop and lull the ailing child, rocking them back and forth.
Finally, she arrived at the sixth floor, her heart thumping against her ribcage.
The young woman took deep breaths as she stood in front of Room 622. Placing down her lantern, Edith quietly called out, "Sister Yvette!"
She then knocked on the door twice, worry etched all over her face. A couple of seconds later, the sound of footsteps could be heard from behind the wooden door.
"Who is it?" They inquired. Perhaps a candle was lit, as a faint silhouette could be seen from the slim gap between the door.
"…It's Edith, sister." The young woman—Edith, answered.
Hearing so, the door immediately swung open.
Sister Yvette, an older woman with brown hair and slight streaks of gray stood tall, holding the door with one hand and a candle in her other hand. "Edith! Just what are you doing on this floor at this—?" She paused, noticing the child in Edith's arms.
"Sister Yvette...-"
"Edith." Yvette hissed. "Don't tell me that child is from the outside."
"They're is sick, and- and it's pouring outside! I couldn't just leave the child outside," Edith pleaded.
"The headmistress- you know she doesn't condone this behavior, Edith! What if she found out you opened the doors at this hour just for…!" Realizing where they currently were, Yvette quickly pulled Edith into her room.
"Sister…"
Yvette frowned and covered Edith's mouth with her hand, "Hush. The walls have ears."
Sighing, Edith peeled her sweater off the child.
Wounds of all shapes and sizes covered her arms like some sort of abstract design, and brandings and bizarre sigils covered her legs.
At first, she thought Edith had merely picked up the child because she felt sympathy for the poor thing. Edith had always been like that, sticking her nose into other people's business just because of her desire for righteousness and justice.
This wasn't the first time Edith had brought in a dirty stray and sullied the cleanliness of the edifice. However, this time she may have gone too far.
But... Yvette's gaze settled back on the brandings on the child's legs, a specific sigil catching her eye.
Watching as Edith nervously fumbled, her hands shaking as she covered the child back up with her sweater, Yvette made up her mind.
"I'll cover you just this once. If anyone questions you, tell them that I am her aunt and that she is my niece."
"Really? Thank you, Sister Yvette!" Edith beamed.
Yvette nodded, her eyes flickering back to the brandings on the child's legs.
"For now, head back and bring the child to Clémence. Your shift should have ended over ten minutes ago, Rosalie may come looking for you if you don't return soon." Yvette alluded. Peering at the exhaustion that colored Edith's face, she then added, "Get some rest. I suspect you won't be on duty for the next few days."
"Oh! Yes, of course; thank you for the reminder," Edith nodded. The prim appearance she had donned merely an hour ago was now reduced to dust; her hair had long since fallen out of her bun, and beads of sweat covered her back.
"Then, I'll take my leave now," Edith bowed. "And... Sister Yvette, thank you for your help."
"There is no need to bow. Have a good night, Edith."
Leaving Room 622, Edith quietly shut the door behind her.
'Thankfully it worked out.'
Edith didn't know what she would've done if Sister Yvette had refused to help, nor did she know why she had gone against Sister Yvette earlier.
Most of all, she didn't know why she felt so desperate to help the ailing child either- sure, she felt sorry, but...
"Perhaps I should get some rest tonight," Edith murmured.
Turning on her heel, she picked up the oil lantern that she had left in front of Sister Yvette's door before heading downstairs to the lower floors to look for Clémence.
Noticing the silence, Edith turned to look out the window. The clamoring of rain against brick and metal had stopped, and the occasional flashes of lightning had come to a stop as well.
'Ah, it stopped raining.' Edith thought.
As she headed downstairs, the child slowly opened her eyes and peered down. Black markings slithered down Edith's legs and returned to its original form, a shadow.
