Okay, everyone, here’s part two of Whatever I Draw. For those of you who missed the first part, here’s the link to it: Whatever I Draw, part 1. Just a reminder of what has just happened. Tullier is climbing the dark stairs, sees a strange heap on them, and draws a candle which becomes real. The light from it is flooding the run-down building….
Whatever I Draw, part 2
by Eliza May
Shakily, Tullier held the candle aloft, determined to discover the identity of the mysterious heap on the stairs. His heart pounded loudly in his ears as he strained his eyes forward. Then he released his pent-up breath and shakily passed his hand over his eyes. The heap was nothing more than an old pile of rags. Why it was there, though, looking as if it had been hastily abandoned, he did not know, and wasn’t sure if he wanted to.
Drained by his previous adrenaline rush, Tullier rested up against the wall. He stared at the flickering flame that he held, reflecting its light in his gray eyes, and forced himself to breathe deeply and slowly. Then he stood erect, and stepped around the pile, still not wanting to touch the thing that had caused him such fear. He continued on up the stairs with no more incidents, guided by the life-giving flame.
At the top, there was another hallway, with three doors, one on either long wall, and a third at the end.
Tullier’s heart started up again, as he neared what could very well decide his fate. Either the people would help him or take the pencil and most likely kill him. He swallowed hard and clenched his fists, then started down the hallway. “The door at the end,” he whispered to himself, so quietly it could not be heard. He stopped before the spoken-of door and raised his fist. Then he knocked. Two short, staccato ones, a pause, and then another two.
There was a sound of footsteps heading to the door, where they stopped. Evidently, whoever it was was looking through the peephole at Tullier. An instant later, the door swung open and a muffled voice grunted, “Come in.”
Tullier, without much of a choice, obeyed, and the man that the voice belonged to suspiciously peered down the hallway before closing the door behind him.
Inside, Tullier found himself in an old tenement room, filthy and containing nothing but some old furniture – a table, threadbare couch, and a few chairs – and three people dressed in black and standing in the shadows with their faces inscrutable. The man who had opened the door was one of these three.
They all turned to stare at Tullier, taking in every inch of him. On the surface, he was a teenager nearing adulthood, with a mop of untrimmed hair, almost black, which fell into his gray eyes. He looked a bit sullen, and on the defensive, though considering the circumstances that could only be expected. Dressed in a rain-soaked hoodie, jeans, and sneakers, he looked just like any other teenager. However, if you looked deeper, you could see a wary hostility in his eyes, but also an unusual determination, a fighting spirit, and a bright intelligence. His stance showed that he was used to action, and he was breathing heavily.
As they scrutinized him, Tullier also studied them. The man who had opened the door was wearing a black ski mask, black jeans, black T-shirt, and gloves, shoes, and a leather jacket of the same color. He was well-built, but didn’t look like a meat-headed strong man, either. The other two were also dressed in black, and were out of the reach of Tullier’s candlelight.
Unexpectedly, the man who had opened the door took a deep intake of breath and in a voice muffled by the mask, hissed, “You drew that candle. You know how dangerous it is; why did you draw it?”
Well, I hope you liked it! Next time, you’ll find out just who these strange people are….