Chapter 2: Woman in White

The woman in white had no stringy black hair, but there were ominous air surrounding her that seemed to reinforce her spectral qualities. Her dress was completely covered and evenly white, long skirt with long sleeves and came with some sort of a hood. The moonlight glow that enveloped her only further reinforced ethereal qualities that were both chilling yet captivating. She still sang, dutifully as if praising the full moon and her voice echoed across the building that seemed to amplify the volume to be heard a block away.

What was she doing there? Why did she do that? There was no explanation that the twins could come up with about the uncanny sight before them then. They were facing the singing woman's back and rendered completely still, dreading that she will turn around.

Despite the twins' effort to not raise the woman's attention, the ambience was shattered with the sound of heavy thud somewhere. Lars and Len looked around but nothing seemed amiss, except they quickly realized how the silence returned. The song stopped. And the woman in white was nowhere to be found.

"Run!"

Lars felt his feet growing wings and he bolted right away, dragging Len who half - whimpered, half - screamed. His suitcase felt nothing more than the weight of a feather under the adrenaline rush as he shifted between lifting it and dragging it mercilessly on the brick road.

Lars and Len did not dare to look back, despite the strong urge to do so. They kept running and even picked up speed as they heard some harsh scraping sounds emanating from somewhere. It sounded like a set of knives teasingly scraping on the building around them, continuous and consistent enough that it sounded like it was following then.

"What was that? Lars!"

"I don't know! Just hold on, we're almost there!"

When things seemingly couldn't get any worse and scarier, Lars started to notice thin white mist creeping along the road. The mist turned thicker at highly unnatural speed rate and soon enough, the twins were enveloped in it.

"What is going on here? Where does all this mist coming from?" Lars exclaimed.

Lars and Len didn't stay long to ponder this phenomenon as they heard more thuds and scraping sounds around them. It was a good thing that Angel's Snack had its sign in a bright, colorful letters that prominently jutted out so they know exactly where it was despite all of the mist. They scrambled to its porch and banged on the door in chaotic frenzy.

"My goodness, who is it?" a high pitched voice from the inside called out.

"We're the... we're the new guests, w - we spoke on the phone yesterday," Lars said between his breathless gasps.

"Oh my, then what's with all the banging? You scared the life out of me, dearie."

The door opened, revealing the owner of the sweet sounding voice. She was a short, pudgy woman in seemingly mid - forties, dressed in pink salmon cardigan and an apron dirtied by spices and sauces. Despite how suspicious Lars and Len must've looked then, she welcomed them with such a warm smile that almost devoured her black button - like eyes, courtesy to her plump fluffy cheeks.

"Come, come. You two must be exhausted. I have your room prepared already and - oh, dear. It's really misty again tonight, huh?"

"Has it always been like that?" Lars asked.

"Not that I remember, no. It started quite recently, maybe around two weeks ago."

"That's really weird," Len mumbled.

"Y - Yeah... but at least we're finally here now." Lars ushered Len to follow her in, and he found Len's shoulders noticeably relaxed as he sighed in relief. Lars gave him an assuring pat on the shoulder and Len smiled in response, knowing they were safe from whatever it was earlier.

Just by one look, Lars knew he made a great choice with Angel's Snack. He could sense the lingering warmth from the dinner table where the guests must had gathered around and shared stories. He also smelled heavenly savory aroma from the kitchen that awakened the beast in this stomach. His rumbling stomach even pulled everyone's attention, much to his embarrassment.

"Oh, dear. You must be starving! Let me whip up something for you. I was in the middle of cooking for tomorrow's menu anyway."

Lars' face immediately lit up. "Ah, thank you so much. I really appreciate it. The train ride was super long and there was this thing earlier - "

Len cut him off by pulling on his sleeve. His eyebrows creased in worry. "L - Lars, I'm sorry but I... I think I dropped my suitcase... when we were running earlier."

"What? Are you serious?"

True enough, Len's dark grey suitcase was nowhere in sight. Lars didn't realize this until Len pointed it out and it just dawned on him why Len was quiet the whole time.

"Len, your share of money is in there! How could you lose it?"

"I know, I know. But I was panicked, and it slipped out of my hand. You were pulling me and - "

"But you still should've hold on to that! I told you to always look after your things, didn't I?"

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, Lars. I... I'll get it back. M - Maybe it's still there."

Len dropped his backpack and went to the door in steps heavy with hesitation and fear. Len's eyes were glassy with tears, which instantly washed the anger away in Lars'.

"Hey, Len," Lars called while giving Len an assuring smile. "We'll look for it together."

Len nodded, still looking apologetic. They were just about to reach the doorknob when it suddenly swung open, earning them a jolt of surprise. There she stood, the woman in white.

Completely solid, completely physical, very much human. Her long white dress turned out to be part of an ensemble garb of Muslim women's clothing. Her 'hood' was actually a hijab that adorned her pretty, oval shaped face. By unspoken command, Len took a step back and let her in. She moved with an air of grace, entering the lobby with Len's suitcase trailing behind.

"Excuse me. Is this yours?" she asked.

"Y - Yeah it is," Len said. He claimed the suitcase from her dainty hands and smiled, awash in relief. "Thank you so very much! We were just about to look for it."

"I found this on the street nearby. You should be more careful with your belongings when you travel next time," she said.

"Thank you so much for delivering this back to us," Lars said.

"You're welcome. I knew you'd come here after all so might as well."

"How did you know that?" Len asked in a timid voice.

"There are no other lodgings around this area but here, and besides, the road ends at the foot of a hill up ahead. I highly doubt someone would go on a camping with suitcase."

Lars and Len awkwardly laughed, suddenly feeling stupid that they were actually talking to the singing ghost they feared so much minutes ago.

"Good thing you found the suitcase in all that mist. I mean... we can barely see earlier," Lars said.

Tirana chuckled as she lowered her gaze. "Oh, I heard the screaming so I just went over to look and instead found your suitcase. What's up with that?"

"Um... nothing." Len's face reddened as he suddenly got so interested with the floral patterned ceramic tiles.

The woman in apron shook her head and placed her hands on her hips. "Seriously, Tirana dear, just because we don't have a curfew here that doesn't mean it's okay for you to be out there in the middle of the night on your own like that. It could be very dangerous."

"Don't worry, Auntie Quinn. I was just taking a late night stroll." She smiled and headed upstairs, her dress flowing demurely in her gait. She glanced to Lars and Len as she waved. "Good night. See you guys around."

Lars didn't so much reply as he was just as entranced as the time when he heard her sing. He knew it was her. It was definitely her voice, soft and haunting. As much as he wanted to ask her about it, it was most likely for a personal reason, considering she went upstairs rather quickly to avoid further questions. One would surely wonder what was she doing there in the dark, singing, at a time no sane soul would like to be in such decrepit place.

Auntie Quinn heaved a sigh. "Her name is Tirana. Strange girl, but she's very nice. Just take it easy while you're here, will ya? This is a good neighborhood and the people here look out for each other so I'm sorry if I might come off as patronizing."

"Oh it's alright, we understand," Lars said.

After having a hearty midnight meal of seafood soup, Lars and Len bid Mrs. Quinn good night and head towards their room on the second floor. There was a sign by the door telling that each floor had 6 rooms, and since Angel's Snack was a three - storied building, there were 12 rooms in total. Each side of the hallway had 3 rooms, and at the end of it was the fire escape stairs, which Lars quickly suspected where the sneaking in and out was accessed from.

Lars and Len found their room to be the one with blue painted door and had an issue with the lock. Lars had to jiggle the key a little bit in order to unlock it, but thankfully that was the only shortcoming he found with their little new home.

The room was very minimalistic in design, with blue and white as the main color theme. The facilities were standard B&B: king sized bed, TV, AC, wardrobe, bathroom and small desk by the big window. Behind that window was a beautiful night view of Antares' coastline district. Little lights of civilization were layered across the darkness, just before the horizon of the sea.

"Must be pretty in the morning," Len said as he came up to Lars.

"My thoughts exactly." Lars reached out to him and patted his shoulder. They were smiling, and despite their earlier dread, both of them had been calmed enough to witness the beautiful darkness of Antares.

"Although, that was quite a scary start, don't'cha think? What the hell was that? The singing, the sound, the mist - "

"The singing was definitely Tirana," Lars said, "but the others? Who knows?"

Len snickered. "Quite a scary place you pick for us, huh?"

"Where's your sense of adventure? Don't tell me you're scared?" Lars tickled Len's side and their laugh broke out, the most joyful of sound in that night of horrors, the first of many to come.