Make Me: The World of Knott

"It's locked. You're wasting your time," I sighed, slamming the cabinet door shut before opening it again. Maybe I would get lucky and some magic bathrobe would appear for me. All that appeared were more dust bunnies. Unless I wanted to build a robe out of dust bunnies, which may actually cover me better than the ghost’s used handkerchief I currently wore,

I was out of luck.

"Locked for you maybe.” He placed his hand on the knob, but he didn't turn it, he just looked back at me and smiled. "But this is my room."

Before he finished speaking his robe fell to the ground, the fabric bunching as if it had been thrown there. No, as if the man who had been wearing it had fucking disappeared.

Again.

"Fae!" I half-screamed. It was the only thing that made sense.

The door opened a second later. I didn't even have time to register that I could grab the velvet robe before Elliot stepped back into the room from the hall and retrieved it off the floor.

"Shall we?" He pulled the robe on and opened the door like he hadn't just performed the creepiest magic trick of all time.

"Yes, because following an invisible man that I am possibly hallucinating into a maze of Synians seems like a good idea." I really should just go back to sleep.

"I'm not an invisible man, and you are not hallucinating me." He seemed almost amused by that one, but I was just getting more and more upset.

"Then do you mind telling me what you are? Because all I am hearing is what you aren't. And I think I am past the point of being okay without answers."

"I'm a Sylph," he said simply. I hadn't expected him to answer, and I still wasn't sure he did.

"A what?" I didn't even want to try pronouncing that. He had spat it like it was some kind of curse word.

"A Fae creation from the old war. A story that I really don't have the time to tell you right now. Now, do you want to go to Jett's room or not?" He grew more and more agitated. I guess I had touched on something.

Elliot's playful grin from before was gone. He just stood before the open door, scowling. Great. Clearly, asking any more questions wasn't going to get me anywhere.

"Didn't mean to touch a nerve," I mumbled as I followed after him, watching him carefully. Poor guy looked like he was about to explode, and seeing as he could disappear I didn't want to know what exactly that would entail. The mental imagery I was being treated to of glitter and intestines splatting against the wall was already too much for me.

"You're like one of those get to know you question packs,'' Elliot said as we walked down the hall, the white tile extending creepily in either direction. "What's your name? Your star sign? How do you like your eggs? What's your favorite childhood memory? How many toes do you have?"

"How many toes do you have?" I parroted, concerned that I had suddenly overlooked something. "Doesn't everyone have ten? Why is that a question?"

Elliot smirked as he looked back at me. At least he didn't seem so pissed off anymore. I, however, was still wondering if I had miscounted the toes on his creepily too clean feet.

"This way." Elliot wasn't going to answer me. He pushed an expanse of tile wall aside, revealing a spiral staircase that was far too rusty and dust covered for how clean everything else in this place was.

This thing had been slowly rotting to death in a wall.

Elliot was already making his way down, and I should have been trying to count his toes, instead I was frozen.

"You sure that thing’s not going to collapse under the weight of both of us?” My hand was physically shaking as I gripped the hand rail. It was cold and slimy and every time I tried to get a good grip my hand slipped down a few inches. Real effective for a handrail. One wrong step and I was going to be sliding down like an elephant doing ballet.

With my track record that was one hundred percent going to happen.

“Are you sure there isn’t a better way to get there? You know, a way that won’t end in my death?” I tried to take a step on the first tread, the metal creaking as the whole thing swayed. “I’m not sure this has been used anytime in the last century.”

“Stop being so dramatic,” Elliot’s voice echoed up to me from somewhere in the hollow tube, I couldn’t even see him anymore.

Great.

Not only was I descending a slimy staircase, but I was doing it in pitch black. Forget the elephant doing ballet, this was going to be so much worse.

“You do realize I am going to tumble down this like a starfish missing an arm and probably end up at the bottom with a broken clavicle with my ass in the air.” I rambled so fast I wasn’t sure any of it made sense. Well, until Elliot laughed. “Not funny.”

“You stormed into the Synians’ feeding grounds, took one out, and you’re wetting your pants over a staircase.”