As the final notes of Isabella's song dissipated into the night, the Velvet Moon erupted in applause and cheers, a symphony of appreciation for the captivating performance. Isabella addressed the departing gathering, her remarks bearing an air of finality, bathed in the glory of the remaining tunes. "Thank you so much, everyone, for attending this night. I hope you have a great midnight," she exclaimed, concluding her gratitude with a blowing kiss that sent the audience into a frenzy.
I glanced at the time as the commotion of departure ensued—12:40 a.m.
With the crowd gradually dissipating, I rose from my seat, intending to retreat to my room on the second floor. Along the dimly lit corridor, I unexpectedly crossed paths with Isabella, the songstress herself, making her way to her abode. Caught off guard, I fell silent, shyness enveloping me like a cloak.
Isabella, sensing my presence, broke the silence with a kind question. "Hello, are you also going to your room?"
She asked. A surge of nervousness compelled me to respond, "Yes."
Seeking to dispel the tension, Isabella reassured me with a comforting smile and a heartwarming tone. "Don't be tense; it's just me, an ordinary human. I'm no special being. My records and performances are just for show, but that doesn't make me special. If I'm special, then you should be too," Her words carried a gentle sincerity that eased the tension that had gripped me.
In our final exchange of the night, I bid Isabella a subdued, "Goodnight, Mis—ahem, I mean Isabella. Have a good night's sleep."
She responded with a wave, disappearing into the shadows as she entered the corridor leading to the rooms. Following suit, I trailed behind her, only to be abruptly halted by the imposing security personnel.
The guard questioned my credentials in a mocking tone, "Do you have a card to ensure that you checked in this place and not some kind of poor guy?"
I fumbled to display the reddish card with a tint of violet, its hues glinting suspiciously. The guard's expression morphed from skepticism to shock, and in a hurried attempt to salvage his mistake, he stammered an apology, permitting my passage without further scrutiny.
The colored glass card, a symbol of prestige in the Velvet Moon, bore significance beyond its aesthetic allure. As I entered, I reflected on the hierarchy of cards, ranging from the commonplace white and black glass cards to the more exclusive red with a yellowish tint, reddish with a hint of violet like mine, black with pure white crystal, and the elusive rainbow crystal card.
My aunt, who seemed well-versed in the workings of the Velvet Moon, had sent me the card as a birthday present. I entered my room with tiredness and curiosity behind my head, the door sliding shut behind me as I sat on the bed. Due to my tiredness I fell asleep unconsciously.
As I was falling asleep. An unexpected noise woke me up after what seemed like only an hour of sleep. Groggy but intrigued, I rose from the bed and moved stealthily towards the door, compelled by the urge to eavesdrop on the clandestine conversation unfolding just beyond.
Despite my attempts, disappointment cloaked me as the dialogue outside eluded comprehension, reduced to a symphony of indecipherable mumbles. Retreating from the door with a sense of frustration, I returned to my bed, contemplating the fragments of information that slipped through the cracks of understanding.
In a moment of analysis, I muttered to myself, "In the context I hear, I'm guessing there are two people engaged in conversation outside. I'm not sure about the details, but it feels undeniably serious." The enigma deepened as I pondered the mysterious exchange, each muffled utterance leaving me yearning for clarity.
Glancing at the time, I mumbled in quiet contemplation, "its 3:23 in the morning."
As I dozed off for a fleeting moment, a sudden, blood-curdling scream ripped through the silence, violently pulling me back into the realm of wakefulness. Time blurred as I lurched towards the door, driven by an innate desire to find the cause of the commotion. The clock's hands revealed it was 4:10 am—a disquieting hour that heightened the mystery that unfolded in the Velvet Moon.
Opening my door, I joined a cluster of bewildered individuals who, like me, sought answers in the wake of the chilling scream. Uneasy stillness descended as awkward eyes were exchanged each other, each one wrestling with the mystery that hung in the air.
Breaking the silence, I ventured, "Did anyone know where the noise is?" A girl standing in front of my room offered a tentative response, "I heard it somewhere on the right side."
Two adjacent rooms harbored potential witnesses to the nocturnal disturbance—a man in gentlemanly attire and another, a partially undressed boy. The gentleman affirmed, "Yes, I also heard it on the right side." Meanwhile, the boy, looking disheveled, confessed, "I didn't hear that much because I was sleeping with ear pads on my ears."
Aside from my room, the corridor was home to two additional strange people. A drunk youngster leaned against the doorway on the left, his untidy look implying a night of excess.
"I didn't hear any shit," he said, stumbling into his room, leaving a trail of ambiguity in his wake.
To the right, a weary-looking girl stood, her eyes betraying the exhaustion that clung to her. She uttered, "I'm going back to sleep,"
Disappearing into the sanctuary of her room. The mysterious symphony of responses lingered in the dimly lit corridor, leaving me to wonder.
Undeterred by the varied responses, I proposed, "Well, should we find where the scream was?"
The boy, still clad in partial undress, dismissively retorted, "No, I'm going back to sleep," With a casual attitude, he walked into his room.
The man, adorned in gentlemanly attire, displayed an air of detachment, stating, "I don't need to pry into something like that. Maybe he or she just screamed at something not worthy of my time," before retiring into the sanctum of his room.
Contrary to the prevailing indifference, the girl, with a shy tone, offered, "I could come with you if you don't mind." Embracing the companionship in this mysterious pursuit, I responded, "Sure." Together, we ventured to the left side of the corridor, our footsteps muffled by the night's hush.
We passed the room where the unkempt teenager had fallen asleep, his presence marked by an uncomfortable silence. Continuing our exploration, we ventured into one room and then another, the air thick with anticipation. As we progressed further into the mysterious corridors, the echoes of the scream became more elusive, weaving a cryptic tapestry of uncertainty. And then, in the dim light of the corridor, I found...