Nix-domus

Particular. Rare. Unparalleled the words that describe Nix-Domus a store with memories that could last a lifetime.

Nix-Domus was a small store nothing stood out about it but it was down the ally of Diagon, it was painted a burgundy colour like rotting apples, it was run down and fragile the door of the shop was a four panels door with the to two windows above the two other wood panels. A sign with a snow globe engraved into it but in this snow globe they word wrote were Nix-Domus, beneath the snow globe a quote from who knows where reading “making your place euphoria”, the sign looked older than the shop the twin it was hanging from was down to the last strained and just touching it would give you hundreds of tiny splinters, The doorknob looked like a Russian twist with copper iron and rust.

As you walked into the shop you could smell the regret and fear and a bit of lavender and chamomile tea there were rows and rows of snow globe on placed on wooden shelves going from a-z, the snow globes were old-looking every single had a keyhole and a number on a gold plate each one with a unique number like #1785,#5685,#4205 the list went on, as you get closer to the counter behind it was a shelve of book all with a letter on the spine of the book.

To the right of the wooden counter, there was an archway with another sign reading ” Expectantes locus” the room was dark with a deeper smell of fear the lights sprung on with a flash. The room was small and there were only a couple of chairs but they were all different and none of them looked the same either the room was a different colour to the front of the shop it was light green with a dark stained coffee table. 

Chills went down your spine and your soul got cold but then it busted with warmth as you entered the room marked with operating cubiculum, this rooms has a fire and beautiful Fireflies in jars and two chairs. Next, to the chairs there were, a table with a metal box with one door and a pipe go out into a black glove, and this metal box didn’t intimidate you and most things do. A painting sat above fireplace it was a painting of hills ombre into a lake then fire, it was an inserting piece and could be interpreted in hundreds of ways.

Slowly footstep came closer to you and your chest moved more. “Hello?” said an frail old lady walked towards you she had long white hair, she wore a white dress with glasses and some sort of gold brooch, as she got closer you notice that her eyes were dead white. “Now what are you doing here” she whispered like she was so weak she was pushing the words out. Your legs were quavering.