Prologue

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Paris, France. Modern day- the Musée du Louvre. Sparkling with dappled light reflected from pei's pyramid, was breathtaking.

The museum itself is a work of art! Pictures do not do it justice.

I was a travel agent from America and a travel blogger on the side- I loved to travel. The food. The language. The architecture.

Paris has been my dream trip and how could I miss seeing the Louvre? I've been wanting to focus more on my blog, "Two hours at the Louvre. What you HAVE to see." Could be the article that does it.

I entered the Denon Wing. Containing Jacques- Louis David's The coronation of Jackson. I opened my phone app to double check my location, only to be bumped by someone from a large tour group.

"Excuse me. I mean, pardon." They smiled sheepishly and responded in kind. Swiss, by their accent.

Counting onward, I found The coronation. It was so large, I thought I could step through it into another world.

"It takes up the whole wall." I awed, gaping at the painting with mouth open and hands cupping my cheeks.

"Did you know, it's the second largest painting in the Louvre." A voice came from beside me, I looked at the ginger haired man with emerald green eyes. He was also looking at the painting.

Oh? Is he talking to me?

He spoke like a native; his outfit, finished with a long beige overcoat, suggested wealth and class.

He looks like a man out of time. As if he stepped out of one of these paintings.

The smartly dressed gentleman turned on his leather oxfords and drew close, peering at me.

"Pardon, Monsieur?" I asked almost sounding offended.

I wasn't an object in this museum to be examined. Then the gentleman uncurled his hand, so I could see what he held.

"I knew it. This earring belongs to you." He spoke in his rich voice, there in his palm layed my round pearl stud earring. 

"Oh! When did I lose it...?" I touched my ears. One of my studs was missing.

"I believe it was when that pastron bumped into you. I happened to spot it as it fell. I was looking for a chance to return it to you." He smiled as he took a few steps forward towards me.

"Thank you very much." My bow was instinctual. When I looked back up, I caught his eyes: the color of spun green, I'd never seen anything like them.

"It's a shame there's no mirror here to help you put it back on." The gentleman spoke almost sounding sorry or ashamed.

"I'm sure there's a restroom nearby." I pointed out.

"Shall I help you restore it to it's proper place? That way you won't lose it again."

I had accepted the intimate offer before I realized what I was doing. It wasn't just his eyes. Had his old world, noble manner enchanted me?

"If you would hold still, Mademoiselle?"

The gentleman brushed my blonde hair back with his finger that could have belonged to one of the graceful sculptures around me.

I know we're in Paris, but this is too amorous an act to be coming from a stranger.

"That's a lovely fragrance." The gentleman stated with a gentle smile tugging at his thin lips.

"Thank you. I got that perfume here in Paris." I awkwardly answered.

"Oh... But I wasn't referring to your perfume."

His voice was soft and rich. Yet! I couldn't place his accent. It was like a meélange of a hundred different lands.

"There. I believe your earring is secured."

The gentleman stepped away with a perfectly natural smile. Whatever spell I imagined myself to be under was broken.

"My rogue earring is certain to behave itself now. Thank you." I touched my stud earring lightly and spoke in a playful tone. He chuckled slightly.

"Not at all. It was thanks to the earring that I was granted the good fortune to meet you. Bon voyage."

The gentleman left me, heading down the gallery towards the Mona Lisa, I assumed.

I was completely swept away by his charm.

His tailored three piece suit was modern, but he wore it like a turn-of-century prince.

...or a vampire from a gothic romance novel! I can't believe I just thought that.

Fending off further fanciful notions, I opened my cellphone.

It's been an hour and a half? Where did the time go? I guess I should rethink my article. I should at least see the Mona Lisa in here. That can be my last stop.

I hurried down the same corridor the gentleman had taken.

The door...

"Is this some kind of exhibit?" The wood was old and intricately carved. It could have been a work of art itself.

I don't think this was on the map. What's behind it? Maybe a staff room?

But there was no signs, no stanchions cording it off. And it stood partly open. I could see through the gap; there were clocks, vases and paintings inside.

It could be a new exhibit or an old one.

The hallway smelled of time forgotten. My hand was already on the door handle.

...I'll just see what's in here. Maybe even write about the hidden treasures of the Louvre...?

Unlike the rest of the musée, this hallway was narrow, barely wide open for two people. The exhibits had no labels, no descriptions of any kind.

I think I have wandered into a strange area.

But instead of turning around, I found myself drawn further in, it was like I was in a dream. My feet were moving without me. Walking towards a light at the end of the long, long hallway.

Is that the exit?

I began to run. Running just so I could get out of this place! A force took hold of me before I reached the light. I gasped, fought and broke free.

"Aah!"

The light flared, enveloping everything. I squeezed my eyes shut. It didn't help. I kept them shut right until the light returned to normal. When I opened them...

Where am I?

It was a different hallway.

Impossible! These hallways can't be connected. But they have to be, don't they?

Bedroom doors on one side, windows on the other. It looked like a private mansion.

It's bright because of the chandeliers, but strangely it feels like night.

I pushed aside a floor length crimson curtain. Innumerable stars flecked the midnight blue sky like paint flecks on a canvas; a portrait of laughing, crescent moon.

"How can it be night?"

What time is it?

I pulled out my cellphone. 2:20 p.m. exactly.

That can't be.

I checked my cellphone again. 2:21. Then the window. Clouds passed over the moon.

There's an explanation for this. There has to be.

My head was spinning. I took a deep breath to calm myself. It helped. A little.

"I'll retrace my steps. That's it."

But when I turned around... Everything was white. My world was gone. If I thought my head was spinning before...

What's going on?!

A rush of air. Someone was behind me!

It was a shadow. It grabbed me by the arm and enveloped me, like a dark embrace.

"Let go!" I fought the shadow's hold, but nothing I did could budge it. Fingers slid down my neck, pushed my hair aside and stopped at my throat.

"Let me have a drink." A deep throaty voice hissed in my ear, sending shivers down my spine.

"Stop!"

I was back in the hallway. Alone. Laying on the cold marble floor where I'd been standing a second ago. My long blonde hair scattered on the floor around my head, my hand quickly touched my throat for any injury but it was intact, not even a scratch. I stood up with the help of a wall.

Was any of that real?

"...Just a dream."

My pulse was racing. I wanted out of this place. Back to the Musée. Back to my hotel. Back to America.

The door!

Turning around, I saw to my relief the same door I'd entered in the Louvre.

Oh thank god!

I place my hand upon the cold handle and pulled. Nothing. I pushed. Nothing.

"Come on, open!"

I put my shoulder into it. Nothing. No matter what I did, it wouldn't MOVE.

"What are you doing there?" I heard a deep, heavy, manly voice.

"Who's there?" I swiftly turned around, my hand still holding onto the door handle as I gulped.

It was a man with silver white hair. Tips as silver as the stars outside.

He spoke to me in English, albeit with a thick french accent. Not quite italian. Something about his mien recalled my nightmare to me, but there wasn't anything about him.

And is he dressed in a costume? Maybe he's part of a show the Louvre is putting on? At this point I don't care who he is. I'm glad to have found someone!

"Pardon. Do you know how to open this door? I'm trying to get back to Musée." I said pointing at the door, my voice pleading.

"What's that? 'Get back'? You're not telling me you came through that door?" He sounded surprised.

"That's exactly what I did. I came through the hallway, the one with all the antiques."

He took the stock of me. He didn't seem to doubt my story, only his own eyes.

"Just what are you?" He questioned, looking at her with his intense eyes.

From down the hall, I heard the soft click of the heels of fine oxford shoes.

Could that be the gentleman I met?

I could use a familiar face right now. And more help getting this door to open.

"Excuse m-"

Silver haired man clapped a hand over my mouth and swept me into his arms. My eyes widened with both shock and horror.

What is he doing?

He pulled me behind the long curtain, hiding us, his back flat against the wall.

Is he hiding me or himself?

I trembled in his arms, but he held me gently.

"I won't hurt you. Just for now, don't make a sound."

Half shadowed, half illuminated in moonlight, he was a living painting in chiaroscuro. His features were all contrast. Slender face with a firm jaw. Sharp tufts of hair that looked soft as silk. Eyes of bright blue that met mine without shying away. Powerful eyes. Earnest eyes.

Eyes that made me trust him.

I still don't know what's going on here. But he's not lying to me.

I nodded and he uncovered my mouth.

What are we hiding from? The man coming down the hallway? Why?

After a moment, the silver haired man spoke.

"They're gone." He whispered looking from behind the curtain, his long fingers brushing against my neck in the process making me shiver.

He was right. I couldn't hear the echoes of footsteps anymore.

"I'll answer your questions later. You need to escape before the others find you." He urgently stated.

We stepped out from the curtain. He took my hand, his grip firm, and he began walking.

Escape? What exactly is this place that I need to escape from it? What happens here?

I would be lying if I said I wasn't afraid.

"We'd better run. Don't let go of my hand."

There was one thing in the mansion that I wasn't afraid of- him.

He's done nothing but try to help me.

I held his hand tight. If someone could get me out of this, I thought, it would be him.

"By Jove, what's this?"

The door ahead of us opened and a man stepped out. He struck a casual pose, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

My savior clicked his tongue. I knew what that sound implied. We'd been caught.

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Heya! Guys. I know I have taken a lot of time to update this book and I am sorry for that, I'll try updating it more often and hope you guys enjoy this book.

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➡️ SiL3nT KilL3r 🦇