[center][img]http://txt-dynamic.cdn.1001fonts.net/txt/dHRmLjcyLmYzOTVkMi5UV0ZzYkdGcFpHZywuMg,,/earwig-factory.regular.png[/img][/center][hr]Molly tugged up her coat's collar as she left the taxi. The rear lights glared back, until it turned and vanished, abandoning her. For a long time, she simply stood, staring from the precipice of the property through clouded breaths. It stuck out as hugely different from the cityscape Molly had left behind with the airport mere hours ago; the house actually [i]loomed[/i], pocked with shadows and secrets. Beneath three layers, she shuddered. 

From the pocket of her jeans she pulled her phone and sent a message to Sandy: 

[center][color=#f395d2][i]“Going in now. If you don’t hear from me soon, they were probably an axe murderer. Xxx”[/i][/color][/center]
Before putting her phone away she snapped a photo of the house, the white flash temporarily blinding her. Whispered curses flew as she rubbed her eyes and their visible bags. 

She trundled up the driveway, suitcase trailing behind. With each step closer she drew, the urge to turn and leave and never find out what this was all about swelled inside her chest, greater and greater. Yet she knew she could not. Not just because the flights would have been a total waste of money either. 

Not seconds after the bell rang was it answered by a sombre looking man – the butler, as it transpired. She fixed her hair so it draped in front of her face and let him take her coat, revealing a mustard-yellow jumper beneath. It was knitted and loose-fitting, with holes in the sleeves that she poked her thumbs through. She refused the offer of a drink, despite being parched. Her luggage was left by the door. 

When she was moved to the room with the others, it was as though a great weight was lifted from her chest. They were waiting just like her. And whilst it was an odd selection, they all seemed fairly normal, from the fleeting glance she gave each; there even seemed to be a mother and child. Mallaidh introduced herself to Devyn in turn, but was fairly monosyllabic in her further replies. A wavering smile held onto her face. She shuffled further into the room and stood by the wall, one arm crossed over her stomach to hold the opposing elbow. Green nails, the varnish chipped around the tips, drummed a frantic rhythm. Then she checked her phone, hiding her face behind it. 11:59pm.

Mallaidh regretted not conversing much, but she was exhausted. Not that there would have been much time to anyway; midnight tolled. At the twelfth chime their host appeared. Lady Eve was her name and her clothes were gorgeous. Whilst Devyn asked the question surely on everyone’s lips, Mallaidh tried to sneak a photo of their host. There was that bright flash again, followed by a moment of comprehension. Cheeks flushed full of blood, arms were pulled in tight and crossed, almost dropping her phone in the process, and eyes glued themselves to the floor. The world seemed to fall away, replaced by embarrassment and the thrumming of her racing heart.