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The Secret Emporium, Cont.

End of chapter 2 – A warning disobeyed

She stepped, not into a room, but into a forest. Sunlight filtered through the trees. She paused and listened. It was quite still, except for the sound of the birds flitting through the trees. A path curled away from her, towards a cottage. The strangest thing was that it all looked exactly as she had imagined; exactly as she had drawn inside Mr Luciano’s book. Without pausing for a second, without looking back, without any concern, Poppy ran down the path towards the cottage.

Chapter 3 – Through The Door

It was a pretty, stone cottage with flowers in the garden and roses growing up against the walls and round the windows. The door was open and without really thinking about it, she stepped inside, her heart thudding expectantly. The house had everything that you might need: a cosy sitting room with a sofa and a wood fire burning brightly; a tiny kitchen with blue cups and plates and an old cooker; a table that was set for two with a teapot steaming; and a plate of toasted teacakes ready to be eaten.

“Hello,’ called Poppy, wondering if anyone else was there. But she was met by silence. She made her way up the stairs to a darkened landing. There was no one in either bedroom though the beds were made up with colourful quilts and soft pillows. For a moment, she wondered if she had stepped straight into the story of the three bears!

She had thrown into her drawing a wish and it didn’t seem as if that was going to come true. There were no signs that a man lived there. She had never met her Dad but she was certain that he was not there. It didn’t feel right. Then she heard it.

Something downstairs; something moving and it wasn’t exactly using footsteps. It was a strange dragging sound accompanied by a low hiss. She stared down the stairs, plucked up courage and descended step-by-step, trying to keep dead silent. She paused and peered round the door into the kitchen. Nothing moved. Only the steam from the teapot still drifted.

A moment later, she heard the sound again. Spinning round, she pushed the sitting room door open. It was then that she saw it: a dark shadow-shape heaved towards her; scarlet eyes bulged out of a grotesque head; and razor sharp talons clawed the ground. There was no hesitation this time. Poppy shoved the cottage door open and as fast as her legs could carry her, she dashed back up the pathway, through the forest and towards where the door had been.

But there was nothing there. Nothing that is except for more forest, stretching endlessly on, darkening with shadows and shapes and vague silhouettes that moved without meaning. “Come back,” hissed a voice behind her!

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