Hell's Eyes

BRIANNA SHAFFERY

place and watched as he secured several bolts back into place. Peering through the dim light of the house, Elsie couldn’t decide if it was panic or curiosity that dominated her bloodstream. Heart fluttering in her throat, Elsie couldn’t help the feeling that she was a trapped pyrosa, and that perhaps she shouldn’t have come at all. As if sensing her gaze on him, Mr. Noblémyn turned. One hand lingered on the last of the shiny locks as he dragged the other over his haggard face. “Pardon the locks. I-I’ve had a terrible time sleeping at night.” “Have you been burglarized recently, and that’s what has you so… out of sorts?” Elsie ventured a guess, carefully inching her way down the hall in the hopes that the space would open up to another room, putting some distance between her and what she now believed was a shadow of her neighbor. This was not Mr. Noblémyn. At least, he was not the Mr. Noblémyn she knew, or that Halberry had come to know. Elliot quirked his head, considering the best way to respond. By all accounts, the truth would sound implausible, but a lie would not come to his pinwheeling mind. “Burglarized? N-no, no, nothing of the sort.” “Ah,” Miss Elsie breathed, still eyeing the locks. “And so the locks are…because…?” As if noticing them for the first time, Mr. Noblémyn jumped, his eyes widening when next they met hers. Stammering, he explained, “They’re for protection…” “What from?” she asked hesitantly, her stomach knotting the longer they stood in the stifling hallway. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, but no reply came. Taking matters upon herself, Elsie straightened her shoulders and adjusted her basket. “Perhaps we could sit? The cinnegal is getting cool, and we both know they’re best enjoyed warm.” Her words struck Elliot like a bolt of lightning, startling his dazed mind back into some semblance of functionality. Jolting forward, he

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