The Transylvania Pocket Watch by Tyler Jolley & Mary H Geis

Author:Tyler Jolley & Mary H Geis [Jolley, Tyler & Geis, Mary H]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Jolley Chronicles
Published: 2020-06-08T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter 10

Ali stumbled back into the mezzanine. She gripped her shoulder with her left hand.

“Oh my goodness! Are you okay?” Glenda’s high-pitched voice was barely audible. “What was that?”

“I’m fine,” Ali said. “It didn’t hurt too badly, it just scared me. I—I don’t know what that was. Stay here. I’ll just shine a flashlight in from here.”

Chicaletta pulled her machete from the sling on her back and stood in a defensive stance, ready to help Ali.

The curved hallway was at such an angle, Ali couldn’t see the end. The wall was lined with hundreds of portraits of varying sizes. Wooden wall sconces with white tapered candles illuminated the room. Wax dripped down the sconces and onto the canvas of framed pictures beneath. Ali inched in to get a closer look.

“It’s nothing, a picture.” She picked the broken frame off the ground and showed her friends. “I must have jostled it loose from the wall when I opened the door. Anyway, the room, it’s just a hallway with lots of strange-looking portraits.” Ali walked into the room. “There’s a family, individual portraits, and even one of a dog. I’ve never seen a dog like that. Oh, and there’s a large crest on the top of the left wall.”

“What does it look like?” Glenda asked. She flew into the room. “It’s gorgeous. Come see, everyone. They must have been royalty. Red, yellow, and green, and I think there’s a knight in the center.”

The rest of the group followed.

“These portraits”—Chicaletta gently traced the glass—“are of the people we saw dancing. It must have been before they turned.” She placed her machete back in its sheath.

“Let me see that dog,” Tristan said, scurrying up paintings until he was just below it. “I might know him.”

“Oh, Tristan, don’t be cheeky. This is not a time for jokes,” Bait said.

“It’s Bosco!” Tristan laughed. “I would recognize that Transylvanian hound anywhere. See, his muzzle isn’t fully copper like it should be. He has a tinge of white on the corner. It’s a funny story. Let’s just say—”

Crash!

Ali turned. An enormous painting of a family, at least twice the height of Ali, crashed down behind Figgy, blocking the entrance. Glass shattered and rained down. Figgy brayed and leapt forward. Tristan and Chicaletta ran back to Figgy to check on him.

“Good thing I’m quick on my feet,” Figgy said, his voice shaky.

“I guess we have no choice on which way to go now.” Ali shrugged.

“The portrait blocking the door is not a bad thing,” Chicaletta said. “It will keep the Geese and any wandering vampires away. Come.” Chicaletta crouched, holding her machete.

Ali stepped deeper into the hallway. A picture slammed down as if it was connected to the wall at the bottom. It swung from the top down toward them, hitting the wall. Both the frame and glass broke. Then it slowly lifted back up to its rightful place before slapping down again. This time, Ali looked closer, and her hunch was right. It was hinged at the bottom to the wall.

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