Chapter 38: Arrival

The corridor at the bottom of the stairs was long. Soft light played with our shadows as we passed through. The walls were completely covered by long heavy dark red drapes. If there were doors or other tunnels, we didn't find any. Then again we were all too scared to touch the drapes. Anything could have been hidden behind them and it was far too late before I realized it was a perfect place for a trap. It could have been our own fears, amplified by the fact that everyone was touching and feeding off one another, or it was just how the opening at the end of the tunnel looked. It was a doorway, like any other, but for some reason it held a foreboding none of us were prepared for. I could feel everyone's fears dance along our line. That's how we walked, in a straight line, because the drapes lining the sides of the tunnel made it too narrow for us to precede two or more at a time without so much as grazing those rich, unadorned hangings.

About ten feet from the open doorway, the light was stronger. The tunnel opened into a much larger, much taller room. I could also see why the doorway looked wrong. It was cut off by the curtains. The tunnel had been wide enough for us to approach almost three abreast, but our hosts had seen to it that we didn't go looking behind them. All the mystery and fear plagued us just by being asked to be there for no other obvious reason than they wanted it. It hadn't helped when the messenger had said to follow the instructions and all would be well. I felt like a fool to fall for such a simple ruse. It was so elegant and it had worked perfectly, but as I stepped out of the tunnel, I let myself appear perfectly calm, controlled, and even comfortable with the surroundings. I did this all the time, met total strangers for no reason at all whenever they called.

Yeah, right.

I helped the girls to calm, passing that feeling of togetherness, of rightness, of goodness down the line through our touch. It was already going to be a long night. Feeling afraid of something for possibly several hours would wear us out. We needed to stay on our toes, but not jump at every small thing that happened by. It would look bad in the face of those who could be just as bad as we feared.

Once all of us were in the room, I took in the setting. The dark red drapes continued around the room, engulfing it with the rich warm feeling of someplace one could be comfortable. It would have been a better effect if the floor had carpeting instead of white tiles. The ceiling must have been twenty feet high with plenty of lighting. The room might echo or it might not; with the contrast of softened walls and hard floor, it would be difficult to tell until something made some kind of sound. There was something unusual about the room and I figured it out. The drapes, like in the tunnel, hid any other doors or passages from the main hall. There was no way someone would put together such a wondrous underground space without something else to go with it. However, the drapes were complete in hiding those other portals.

My gaze finally settled on the center of the room, the main feature of our visit. There were four large chairs. I immediately thought "thrones" because of the elaborate decorations carved into the legs, arms, uprights and on the backs. The chair seats and backs, for where a person would sit, were covered with a similar dark red and richly comfortable fabric with gold symbols or lines or something embroidered into them. The seats and backs were also cushioned and looked to be as inviting as any recliner. However, the heavy wood or metal that made up the frame was certain to not have a recline feature.

Those four chairs were facing each other, centered on the sides of an enormous mural rug. From the distance and with the back of one of the chairs centered between us and the rug, I couldn't tell what the design was, but from the ends, it looked to have been something regarding bodies, nude bodies. It was edged with heavy gold fringe and the primary color in the background of the mural was again, dark red. It matched the drapes. Other designs bordered the fringe and the main image it captured. I was sure it was a fascinating bit of art. The problem was we weren't standing close enough to enjoy it.

The next thing that I studied was the figures on the sides of the rug to my left and right. To my left, a large man sat in one of the four chairs. He was large as in seven foot or taller and very well built. He could probably pick up me and all mine without much effort. His skin was dark. Not the dark that looks purple with some African-Americans, more like dark chocolate. He was bald and wore only a pair of white slacks with a black leather belt and highly polished black dress shoes. Around him sat three Caucasian women who not only had the same mid-back length straight blonde hair, but the same outfits. All three were dressed in black latex halter tops that completely covered any cleavage and hugged them close. Compared to what my girls were packing, they didn't have much up top, but those shirts helped their appearance. Black latex skirts covered their bottoms and upper thighs. Black thigh high leather boots with three or four inch heels completed their outfits. All three had mascara and some eye shadow, bright red lipstick and nails. They curled around the man on piles of pillows on the floor in similar positions, feet folded back to one side near their butts and arms up to keep a hold of his chair. It was like seeing triplets, but I was fairly certain they weren't.