A flash of lightning hits the ground as a young woman rushes into the tavern. Her wet cloak sticks to her; her hands tremble slightly. Finding an empty table near the wall, she takes a seat and sets down her bag on the chair beside her. 'This tavern,' she thinks, 'is very warm and inviting.' A cozy escape from the pouring rain outside. The young lady is pulled from her thoughts as a waitress comes to her side.
"Can I get you anything?" the waitress asks politely, taking out a small notepad from her pocket.
"A cup of warm tea would be nice. Any kind, I'm not picky," the traveler says with a smile.
"Gladly," the waitress writes down the order and walks away. The traveler takes a look around the tavern, finally taking in the scene around her. The flickering candles and dim lanterns seem to warm her as she feels a soft sigh leave her lips. The chatter of the other customers floods her ears. Her mind fixes on the clinking of drinks and the sounds of hearty conversations. The paintings and decorations keep her eyes roving around her from item to item.
"I must've been lucky to have gotten an empty table to myself," she thinks as she turns to remove her soaking cloak. Glancing around again, a painting catches her eye. The person looks familiar. The look in her eyes and the way her hands rest gently in her lap is something she has seen before. But she couldn't figure out where.
"Your tea," the waitress says softly, placing the cup on the table. The traveler turns to face her and quickly loses her train of thought.
"Thank you," She takes a sip. The sweet taste of green tea washes away her worries. Its warmth flowing through her like a steady river. "The only thing that would make my tea sweeter is knowing your name, beautiful maiden."
"Lorelai. And yours, traveler?" Lorelai asks with a smile.
"Mallory. Lovely to meet you, Lorelai." Mallory offers a hand, and Lorelai takes it.
"It is an honor to meet you again as well, Mallory," Lorelai whispers, Mallory's lips lightly touching her hand. Mallory glances up into her eyes as their hands slip apart. A glint of something flickers in Lorelai's eyes.
"I will be around if you need anything, darling." She says as she makes her way to another table, ready to take their order.
"Again?" Mallory mumbles, lifting the cup to her lips. "She must've fumbled her words."
She glances around once again, enjoying the atmosphere around her. The painting from before catches her eye again, and Mallory can't help but look at it. The woman in the painting stares at her, making her skin crawl. Mallory fights the urge to walk over. Though before she can turn her head, she's already in front of the portrait.
Time passes in slow silence, her eyes glazing over the image before her. The woman sits elegantly, her hands folded in her lap. A mellow smile rests on her flushed lips. Her entire ambiance felt surreal, almost too lifelike. The soft candlelight sprinkles specks of gold in her brown eyes and the coils of her hair.
"… Why do you look so familiar?" Mallory asks herself aloud, her question carrying to the portrait. The woman's eyes bore into her as a cold breeze kisses the back of her neck. Her quiet breaths grow quieter by the moment. The chatter of the guests and the clinking of glasses stop. The once warm feeling in her stomach freezes over.
Before Mallory can react, Lorelai pushes her into the portrait. Time stops for a few brief moments. The woman turns her head and grabs her, pulling her into the portrait. The once mellow smile turns into a determined frown as she attempts to escape the portrait, only to be pulled deeper inside. Mallory's body phases through the surface. The portrait contorts her in slow yet rapid movements. Her screams are silenced before they leave her lips.
Mallory feels her lips tilt upward into a mellow smile. She now sits in the same elegant position, her hands gently folded in her lap and a look in her eyes that cry for help. Now she knows why the portrait looks familiar.
A flash of lightning hits the ground as a young woman rushes into the tavern. Her wet cloak sticks to her; her hands tremble slightly. Mallory stares at her as she finds an empty table near the wall. She watches her take a seat and set down her bag on the chair beside her. The tavern, once warm and inviting, feels numb to her from the confines of the portrait. The young lady is pulled from her thoughts as a waitress comes to her side.
"Can I get you anything?" Mallory hears Lorelai ask a young woman who looks just like her.