“Was that a chant of some sort? Like a spell?” Answered a voice, in front of Betts even though no one was there. There was a hint of nostalgia forced into Betts mind when she heard the voice speak, but its familiarity outweighs the curiosity about who could it come from. Owing to how invisible the other party was, and the sheer level of acceptance Betts is willing to tolerate, she looked around. There was a hope that she was with someone, anyone that could provide shape to the voice but as of now, no one was there. “Hello,” Betts said. “Can you show yourself?” She asked as she tried looking around one more time. The light remained white and blinding from the Victorian arched window, its glass still a mystery if it was there or not. The curtains have now ceased to move, instead, they stayed stock still like stones were tied on their ends, pulling down. Gravity must be so strong on that spot of the room because the cloth began to look, seem, and at some point, feel stretched. Drinkin
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