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Henrietta closed the door behind her, leaving the unknown scrap of paper behind. As she expected, once the door was closed, she found herself in the hallway, without a door where she had stepped through. A shudder ran through her slender frame, and a bitter chill settled into her bones. It was as if she had just been plunged into a subzero river. She wrapped her arms around herself, trying to stay warm.
Just as soon as it happened, it stopped, and she was as warm as she normally was. She looked around, wondering just what exactly was going on. Down the hallway loomed several more doors, and after a few dozen yards the hallway itself vanished into the shadows. The carpet, the wallpaper, everything; it was all the same, utterly the same as she had seen it for what felt like months but was perhaps only hours.
She continued down the hallway, and reached the next door. She grabbed the handle, and felt a tingle run through her hand, as if there was a mild electric current running from the knob to her body. It passed, but the feeling remained in the form of a slight tremor in her hand. She opened the door, and stepped inside.
This time there was no flash of light, no wave of darkness. She could see pale shadows before she had fully entered the room, so it was no surprise what she saw when her eyes adjusted to the lower lighting.
This room looked mildly similar to the last one. The same deep red crushed velvet carpet, the same wall to wall bookcases filled with ancient tomes and the same smell of pipe tobacco. However, there were no chairs in this room. There was no globe, resplendent with precious gems and jewels, spinning lazily as a young girl ran to tug at her mother's dress...
What had happened?! Henrietta blinked, and staggered slightly, falling back against the door, which had closed itself behind her. She looked around, but knew that the young girl and the woman that she saw were not in this room. could it have been a memory? She reached deep into her subconscious, but whatever it was that had caused the slip had been repaired; she couldn't remember anything.
Sadly, she walked forward, to where she thought the globe had been. There were no impressions on the carpet, no pattern of dust evincing an object's absence. If she were to go by what she could see, then it would mean there had never been a globe here.
Listlessly, she walked throughout the room, but didn't take much notice of things. Her fingers trailed along the bookcase, rubbing against the warm, dry leather of the various books' bindings. After a moment, she was motivated by a wave of sadness to leave the room, to seperate from this gnawing hole she felt growing in her heart.
Hurriedly, she returned to the door, and gratefully slipped past it to the hallway.