The Seven Realms

Warnings: Cursing, other-worldly things (if you don’t like that sort of stuff) and I think I am going to have some romance. Some hetero and some homo XD But that isn’t going to be Anytime sooooonnn. So yes, don’t go just because of that :]]]]


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“Isabella House?”
I turned around to face a man that looked to be in his early twenties. He has a pair of rectangular glasses covering his blue eyes. His jet black hair stands out against his white skin. The dark circles around his eyes add to the ghostly appearance. I note the large scar just above his upper lip. It is light pale in colour. His silver police badge glitters at his belt.
“What am I doing here?” I ask him, staring at his scar. He must of noticed my curious gaze directed at it because he exhaled and shifted nervously.
“ I have to ask you some questions. So if you will please follow me we can get started.” His voice is deep, it almost echoes in the waiting room of the Melbourne Police Station. It’s a small, square room with all white walls and absolutely no touch of life to it except for the small hiccups from another woman sitting a few seats away from me and the rustle of papers at the secretaries desk, where a young male sat doing his job.
I sigh, but stand non-the-less, and wait to be directed. He motions to a door to my left.
The steel door looked about one-hundred years old, with dozens of bolt locks decorating the sides. Towards the upper left-hand corner a small three-by-five Plexiglas window, covered by three bars.
“Wha-”
A loud bark from behind the door stopped me mid-sentence. I look back at the man that was supposed to be questioning me. His face was void of any emotions, as if he hadn’t heard a thing. When I looked at his eyes, they seemed amused.
“Hey, wha-”
Again, that same bark, only this time it seemed farther away. I turn around to find that everyone else in the room had left, including the secretary.
A jingle brought me back to reality. I glance at ‘Scarface’ and find him playing around with about fifty different colored keys on a huge key ring. He must of found the one he was looking for because he stuck a green-colored key into the smallest bolt lock. Without twisting it like you would a regular lock and key, he took it out, put it back onto the ring and took a step back. All of the sudden, there was a loud creeek and the door slide inside of the wall
“The name is Andy, by the way. Andy Beck.” ‘Scarface’ states, not bothering to look back at my amazed face, and walks through the doorway into a dimly lit hallway. I just stare at his retreating form.
“What the hell was with the dog?” I ask wearily as I step through the doorway. He sighs, and shakes his head.
“Tch, figures he would do that. He’s such a jerk.” His voice was softer, making me struggle to hear him.
“Who?” This time he turned to face me when he replied, only his voice sounded strained; eager, “You’ll be filled in later, but for now just follow me. Now hurry up. I don’t think you’ll want to be lingering through these hallways in a couple of minutes when it is dawn.”
“What happens at dawn?” I question, picking up my pace to walk at his side.
When he doesn’t answer, I sigh but stay quiet, taking his silence as a “Shut up.” I look at the doors along the walls. They look the same as the one we just walked through only a few seconds ago, except these particular ones don’t have as much locks on them. Instead of twelve or more, they only have one or two; and these are made of wood. No windows or bars. The dim lighting gave the hallway a misty look.
I was relieved we stopped in front of a white door. It had no locks, just a small doorknob. When I looked towards the bottom of it, I noticed a big, rectangular piece of rubber. A doggy door perhaps? I don’t voice my curiosity, already knowing that he would not answer.
I hold my breath when his fingers grasp onto the doorknob. I picture huge monsters from other worlds. Maybe some top secret government investigation.
I am disappointed when I find myself looking into an all white room. No monsters, no investigations. There isn’t even any noticeable scuff marks on the white linoleum tiles.
There is a big, white sectional sofa on the opposite wall. A magazine lay forgotten on one of the cushions. In front of the sofa is a small coffee table, nothing upon it.
“Looks like they are late. Like usual.” Andy mutters, and walks across the room. Sitting down on the sofa, he sighs.
“Your so vague.” I pout. I don’t move from the doorway. Andy looks at me, then past me to the door, and his expression changes from lethargic to alarmed.
“Close the door!!” He yells, springing up from his spot on the couch. I am too taken aback to even register his words.
I almost couldn’t see him, he ran so fast across the room. Pushing me into the room and slamming the door behind me, he lets out a relieved sigh, then glares at me.
“Are you trying to get us killed?!” He growls. My eyes widen.
“I. . . but. . . you . . .what?” My voice tumbles for the right words. He softens his glare and sighs, again.
‘He sure does sigh a lot.’ I think.
“I told you before that you didn’t want to be lingering in the hallways!” He yells. I cover my ears from the volume of it.