Yasmine looked out the window as she took in her new environment. Not gonna lie, when she thought of a place to interview the archive master, an old church wasn't what she had in mind.
"2435 Long street, huh." Her eyes watched as the door that was once sewn together with a rope around their handles, now busted open wide with the doors barely hanging to the hinges. The windows were shaped like a cliché pentagon. The frames telling the story of god, over and over till it was no longer a mystery. Still one thing purged her mind.
The graveyard. Behind the very church she would enter, an eerie graveyard made itself palpable to her vision. 'I should take something, anything.' Feeling her thoughts becoming worse, she reached over to pull out a gun from her glove compartment. After checking what bullet she had left she quickly opened the door to leave her safe vehicle.
As she walked, Yasmine couldn't help but hum the tune that soothed her mind many times before. The notes felt like a numbing cream on her forever running minds as she looked around for some sort of movement. Why did she decide to look for some random address printed on the back of a paper? Is a question she could never understand. All she could say was that it felt… right. Like she needed to be here. Like everything in her life has amounted to this moment. Taking a deep breath, she quickly stepped through the bust doors that divided the church from outside.
Although it wasn't that much of a distance, the building felt a million times colder than before. She didn't know why though, the air conditioner wasn't on. Who knows what was keeping it cold. All she knew was that it was freezing. As she walked further down the corridor, she couldn't help but ogle the paintings that decorated it.
The first one was a classic painting of a man. In the art, he sat on a Bistre colored armchair. His uneven arm folded ever so calmly as he was being fed by a multitude of people. One was a elderly lady. She reached her arms in pain as the bump on her stomach protruded ever so slowly. There were younger ladies in the background, but they weren't as painted as prominently as she was. Unlike the other women, she was painted with a darker outfit. With one hand, she hung the grapes so close for the man to eat. With the other she held a book. However, the cover didn't have anything that stood out. It seemed odd. Still Yasmine looked to the others.
The second one, was a continuation of the first. The same old woman and man are in the photo. All the others have disappeared from sight. Instead, the man stood tall, his armor shining from the sun. The old woman, on the other hand, now bowed. With eyes filled with tears, she raised her palms together to beg for mercy. In the man's hand, he now held the book of power.
The last one left Yasmine in a wave of shock. In the last painting, the figure of the husband laid on the ground, blood dripping ever so seamlessly from his head. The old woman, who once looked frail and pathetic, now stood still. Red eyes capturing the canvas. Her hand carried a plank indented with what seemed to be a nail.
"Gosh. terrible ending, huh." She held the gun closer to her hips. There once was a time where you could call the painting beautiful, but now they seemed sinister. Plus she didn't want anyone to get any ideas. As she watched the last painting, she couldn't help but feel something shifting the distance. Her eyes quickly darted to the direction of this movement.
The hallway
The hallway that held the movement looked way different compared to where she came from. Unlike the other, which was decorated with murals, painting and stoned glass, this was dark. The one thing that stood to illuminate the way, was a small light laying on the dresser. It wasn't a flashlight or any moveable light, for that matter. It was a small bulb with a wire that was plugged into the outlet. It didn't look safe, clearly, with wire dancing about. The object looked as if one shove could light this place aflame. Although, for the time being, it did do its job.
Against Yasmine's better judgment, she proceeded to make her way into the haunted looking hall. To make the fear seem child-like, she began to hastily move through the passage. At first, the original fear began to dissipate. With the silence, and her breathing seemingly being the only thing littered the air, she felt fine.
But the sound of the floor failing under, didn't make her feel at ease in the slightest.