Hell's Eyes

HELL'S EYES

a-and—and—and that wicked gleam, like fire. Its gaze burns! P-please, Miss Hyacinth! D-don’t open the w-windows. T-those…those eyes!” Elsie reluctantly encouraged him to go on, hoping that the Mr. Elliot Noblémyn she knew would shine through the haze of the harried man before her. “It’s just terrible, Miss Hyacinth! I haven’t a moment’s peace hardly all season—why, I can’t remember the last time I didn’t see it lurking about, or had a night of rest. It’s just always about,” he said again, clasp ing her hand tightly now. “Always about, always watching, prowling, waiting with its deep obsidian eyes and bone-crushing teeth! And I just know it’s waiting for me, and with it, my worst fears. I don’t want to die, Miss Hyacinth! There’s still so much I want to do, and I-I—” “Shh,” Elsie shushed him as he began to hyperventilate and hiccup. “It’s all right, Mr. Noblémyn. There’s nothing here but the cobwebs and all these drawings.” Easing her hand from his, Elsie stood and glanced about. “What if...” she started, mulling over what she could possibly do to help him. “What if I help you clean things up around here and we eat a good meal? Perhaps you’ll be able to sleep better without all this…without your home being in such disarray?” Mr. Noblémyn shrank in his seat, nearly curling in on himself from how severely his shoulders curved inward, making him shrug over his knees. Elsie knelt in front of him, trying to catch his eyes and make sure he was listening to her. “This isn’t good for you, Mr. Noblémyn. You have to take care of yourself, or else this monster will win. Is that what you want?” Mr. Noblémyn shook his head. “Good. Then you’ll let me help you?” “Yes?” he said skeptically. Resolved to helping Mr. Noblémyn retrieve his wits, Elsie stood and turned back toward the room, meaning to begin the first task on

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