Welcome to Gaia! :: View User's Journal | Gaia Journals

Henrietta looked down the hallway, it's darkness beckoning her like a tangible hand tugging on her own. She knew it would be pointless to keep trying to find the door that had vanished; she could only proceed. She stepped forward, and a wave of weakness passed through her, bringing her to her knees. A dull pain throbbed behind her eyes, stronger than any headache she'd ever felt before.
She clenched her eyes shut, trying to ignore the insistent roaring of blood in her ears. Slowly, she felt the pain slip away, until she felt well enough to stand again. She was a little shaky, but she thought she'd be alright.
After a moment, she continued on her way, and approached the third door. This one looked the same as the others; the same wood material, the same dimensions, the same intricate filligree on it's panels. She appraoched it, and grasped the knob, twisting slightly. The door swung silently inwards, and she entered.
The now familiar light blinded her slightly, then disappeared to reveal the interior of the new room. Before she even could focus on anything in particular, a strong smell assailed her nose. It was the husky, slightly bitter scent of pipe tobacco, and it filled the room as surely as if someone were there smoking one.
She looked around, but save her, there was nobody in the room. It's furnishings were even more elaborate than the hallway; opulent would better describe them. The floor was covered in a rich crimson crushed velvet, and there were several large leather armchairs, overstuffed and slightly tearing at the edges, the material obviously old and broken-in. The walls were covered by enormous bookshelves, each shelf of which was crammed full of books. There was a large globe by one chair, the glint of unseen lights shining off of it's precious gemstone inlays.
Henrietta walked closer to one bookshelf, and tried to scan the names of the books, but the print had long since faded, being totally illegible. Carefully, she delicately pulled one book off the shelf and opened it. Slowly, so as not to damage the brittle yellowed pages, she looked within it.
She looked at on epage, and then another. And then another. They were all totally blank. There wasn't a single drop of ink anywhere on any of the pages. Even if they were as ancient as the rest of the room, there would be some sign of the ink, it wouldn't have faded so completely as to leave no trace.
She put the book back, and walked over to the globe. She gave it a gentle spin, and watched as the different colors spun lazily in front of her eyes. Suddenly, a small flash of light popped in front of her eyes for a slightest fraction of a second. She blinked, but it was gone before she even noticed it. She had felt the strongest sense of familiarity with this globe when she first touched it, but now there was nothing. She let it come to a stop, and turned away from it. There didn't appear to be anything else of interest in this room, so she approached the door. As she opened the door, a faint breeze stirred through the room, unnoticed by her. A small scrap of paper, faded and crumpled, rolled out from under the chair by the globe. She didn't see it. however, and left the room.