Back in the hallway, you look around you. The pale light of the Winter's moon is partially obstructed by clouds, and in its shifting light, your empty house seems grim and ghastly. The portraits on the walls, those of your forefathers, appear to look at you with dead eyes, following your every move. Somewhere in the distance, you can hear the creaking and groaning of your ancient house. 


You still can't shake that shiver from your spine, as if a sliver of ice has lodged itself inside it. Trying to expel the ghostly image of Lenore from your mind, you notice the hairs on your arms start to stand upright. This is wrong, this is so very, very wrong. You fear that you might be slowly going insane. The events of the evening so far have left you certainly not unshaken. 


Somewhere behind the staircase, a mouse patters off, the thread of its small paws echoing in the empty space. You jump, quite highly. Starting to feel slightly light-headed, you take a few, deep breaths. You swear you can practically hear your nerves shattering if you listen closely enough. Why is this happening to you? 


TAP TAP TAP


You must have been mistaken. You wish, you wish fiercely that you were mistaken. That infernal tapping, that dreadful noise that has tormented you this evening has returned. As its echo resonates throughout your mind, your gaze turns towards the closed library door at the top of your staircase. Though seemingly left untouched, you know that behind it is the beast, the demon that has been mocking you this entire evening. 


Or (you almost don't dare to wish it) might it be Lenore, trying to grab your attention? Surely she couldn't, surely you didn't just see her, or what remains of her. Surely, it is the delusion of your mind that is leading you to wish, to vehemently wish, such impossible thoughts. Then again, are you willing to risk finding out? 


While you are contemplating moving back to your library, you hear the sound of creaking floorboards in the living room. 'Tis probably the settling of your ancient house, or the soft patter of the mouse you heard earlier. But then again, you heard a similar sound in the smoke room just moments earlier. 


Then again, why should you stay here, in this house of sadness and pain? You remember that you are standing inside the hallway, and that the front door is just behind you. Why should you stay here, tormented by the demons in your mind, if you can escape them quite easily? Surely, if you come back tomorrow, peace and quiet will have returned?


As you stand in the dimly illuminated hallway, you feel your fingers twitch slightly. You can't take much more of the night's horrors, you are afraid. It is just too much. With a pounding heart, and shaking legs, you make your decision about where to go next.

You investigate the Living Room

As you enter the living room, you do not see anything out of the ordinary. The sitting corner around the fireplace, the dining table, the china cabinets, all are in their right places, though thoroughly caked with dust. Yet something does not feel right. Though the wind is howling outside, and snowflakes are clouding the windows, you do not feel cold. The Winter wind, though creeping through the cracks in the window frame, instead feels light a warm summer's breeze. 


Piano music starts playing softly, as if coming from a great distance. The old piano in the corner, however, has been untouched for months, and looks even worse. Slowly, the music is strengthening, coming into focus more and more clearly. It's a ragtime melody, stirring memories of a day so long ago. 


Then, suddenly, the snow in front of the windows starts clearing, vanishing in front of the bright sun. Your living room changes, shaking of its layers of dust and neglect, shining brightly in the sultry Spring heat. You can see flowers start blooming in a vase on the dining table, where flowers have not grown for quite some time, cobwebs vanish from the bookcases as if never there, and in the corner, besides one of the large windows, a woman is playing the piano, with a man standing behind her. 


Though unfamiliar at first, you recognise the couple with a shock. The man, standing proudly, his hands on the woman's shoulders, listening to the beautiful music, you recognise as yourself. Albeit a younger version of you, unshaken by a long, dreadful sorrow. The woman, entranced by the music, swaying softly on the tune of her own making, you recognise as Lenore. A smile graces her fair and radiant face. Tears start to well up in your eyes at the sight of this unexpectedly peaceful scene. Illuminated by the Spring sun through the large window, the couple almost looks otherworldly, an intimate scene depicting heavenly love between a man and a woman, a scene fit for an altar piece. 


Then clouds shift in front of the sun. The music dies. The man calls out in surprise, and you can see yourself stooping down, holding a lifeless Lenore in your hands. Her eyes are open, her chest is still softly swelling at the rhythm of her breathing, yet she is not conscious. Tears roll down your face, both of your own and that of your ghostly apparition. The man, you, is shouting now, calling for help, pleading for someone to come. Behind you, you hear a door open. Hurried footsteps come nearer. 


CAW CAW CAW 


The scene fades away into nothingness, and you're left looking at your old, neglected piano. Silence once more fills the room, broken by the periodic howling of the wind outside. A shadow flies past the snow-clouded window. In the middle of the cold, lonely room, you start crying as the memory of that sweet Spring day slowly fades away.

You continue...

Back into the hallway stepping, wiping the tears from your face, you hear the sound of a breaking glass, and the fluttering of feathers, coming from your library upstairs. That beast, that demon who has been your tormentor this entire evening, is surely there. Yet despite your fear, even despite your curiosity, you feel compelled to go upstairs. Past the portraits of your pale and pallid ancestors, you tread steadily on the ancient oaken steps. 


Yet once you are upstairs, you do not know for sure if you should enter the library at all. Driven by memory, by the recollection of the events all those months ago, you know deep down inside that the library is not where this history ends. Instead, you imagine a light, shining softly, yet steadily behind the door of one of the bedrooms, Lenore's bedroom, the one that you visited not long ago. The one where you saw her, when she was still here. 


'Nevermore.'


The voice startles you, clear as water, yet creaking like ice. Appearing out of nowhere, it sounded like it was addressing you. Yet, as you look around you, all you can see is the eternal dance of dust and shadows, here in the darkness of the hallway. You gaze wanders back to the closed doors of your library behind you. A cold wind blows through the cracks, chilling your very being. 


A sliver of ice lodges itself in your spine as you contemplate your actions. In front of you, Lenore's bedroom looms, dark and forbidding like the rest of your house, yet a feeling deep inside of your heart urges you to go there; however, behind you, your library lies, your sacred sanctum where you have spent most of the past few months, now probably defiled by that infernal winged demon. Doubt besets you once more, but eventually, you decide to go to...