An Abandoned Mansion
This time, there is no falling-just the rush of wind past your ears and the odd sensation of moving, even though the floor beneath your feet does not shift in the slightest.
Some of that wind wraps around your shoulders like a shawl, and for a split second, you feel fingers crawl along your neck. And then just like that, the voice reappears.
"Business unfinished no more."
The mansion's rooms seem to go on forever, without a door leading outwards. Any windows are either bricked over or look out over a graveyard. The world seems to end at its fence, anyway. Sometimes, the doors open into windows, and other times, sounds of someone playing the piano waft through the air--but nobody is nearby...
Hopefully, the floors won't rot through before you carry out the goal.
On your marks...
Jiten looked about, noting the rooms around him. Unlike the office building, the rooms here were not all connected by hallways, nor were they all like one another. The music that occasionally floated through the air was sundry, making the house seem sometimes carefree, and sometimes making it seem menacing and gloomy. He carefully explored the room that he was in, looking for some clue. "Unfinished business..." he wondered aloud, cringing when music played momentarily, making him think someone had responded. It could mean deeds not done, souls unavenged. He had to find something that would point him in the right direction. He wandered over to the nightstand and opened the top drawer.
There was a child's dress, folded and tied with ribbon. Tucked under the ribbon was a note: "A beautiful dress for a beautiful girl! Wear this Sunday!" The note was old, yellow and cracking, and the dress had obviously never been worn before.
The dress was about the right size for a person Jiten's size. He looked around and noticed that the bed was small enough for a child, so this was probably a young girl's room. Not knowing who he would encounter, he decided that he would wear the dress. Maybe if he encountered someone, they would mistake him for the girl who owned this room. At the very least, it would provide a small distraction in case he needed to escape from someone, or something.
He put the dress on, and after a few moments of adjustment, he wandered out of the room. He wandered from room to room, looking for something interesting, occasionally looking out a window to see if there was anyone outside.
He eventually happened into a study room, which is where a family would gather for casual conversation or activities like drawing or reading. A few chairs circled a table, and some more desks were set near large bookshelves containing mostly family portraits, busts of famous figures, and a few books. Some books were on the tables, which were covered in dust, and a few of the pictures were placed face-down where they had previously stood.
Jiten wandered around the room, looking at the titles of some of the books. He picked one particularly large volume up, and a cloud of dust erupted around it. He dropped it, inciting even more dust, and backed away covering his mouth and coughing. As he waited for the dust to settle, he walked over to one of the bookshelves containing pictures and tilted one of the frames to look at it.
It was a serious photo of a girl and her father. The father had a stoic look on her face. The girl's mouth was upturned just ever so slightly, like the photographer had been telling her not to laugh.
The glass of the frame was broken. And someone had taken a knife to the photography, and angrily gouged out the girl's eyes. Long, deep scratches viciously slashed her smiling face in half.
Perhaps this little girl was the one whose room he had been in. And whose dress he was wearing... perhaps that hadn't been the best idea; from what he could see from this picture, someone in this house didn't like this little girl too much. He cautiously looked around the room for other vestiges of violence, maybe another gouged photograph, perhaps there was a trail he could follow. He quietly wandered about the room and carefully examined each picture frame and book, looking for some other trace of whatever, or whoever, had ruined the picture of the little girl.
A few of the pictures were that of the younger girl with her father. Then some of the pictures had the girl a few years older, with a mother and father. Then the father disappeared, and there were a few pictures of the mother with the even older girl. In each one, the face of the girl was ruined, with attention paid to the eyes especially.
Was the father dead? Or had he just left the girl and her mother? There was no way of knowing. Where were they now? Perhaps they were dead? Perhaps... perhaps they had been killed. Maybe that's why the eyes were scratched out: the killer felt guilty about the murder. But why then were the pictures of the mother still intact? Maybe the mother was the killer? But then where was she? Was this the unfinished business that the assignment had spoken of? Jiten realized that every assumption he was making was based solely on speculation. But it was better to have an idea to act on than no motivation at all... He would begin his search back at the first room he had been in, the one where he had found the dress.
He retraced his steps and found his way back to the girl's room. He looked about for signs of violence, bloodstains, gouge marks, anything that would indicate a death. He emptied the dresser, as well as the chest near the bottom of the bed, looking for some clue. He yanked the sheets off of the bed to examine the mattress, thinking she might have been killed in her sleep.
There was no evidence of foul play, but there was very little evidence of the girl living in there. The room was unnaturally neat, without toys or clothes, and there was a lighter spot on the walls where pictures might have once hung. The only way someone would have known a little girl had once occupied that well-decorated room was the dress, which must have been overlooked when the room was being stripped.
However, as Jiten yanked the sheets off of the bed, a tattered piece of paper fell to the floor. It was in horrible shape, but the important part of the message remained clear:
Come to the playroom. You have broken quite a few rules, young lady.
Jiten gulped. This was just getting worse and worse. Playroom... maybe that's where she had been killed. He had no idea
where the playroom was, but at least he had a goal now. He went back to the library, and left through the other side of the room. He wandered from doorway to doorway, looking for this playroom.
At the door of one room, there was a faint noise, as though somebody was flipping pages or shuffling about.
Jiten rendered himself invisible and carefully peeked inside the room.
An older woman sat in the middle of the room, getting up and walking to the shelf, fiddling with something she had placed behind the books, then walked back to her chair and picked up a book. She repeated this several times until Jiten could hear her muttering something. It was inaudible from where he was, though. The woman turned slightly more towards the door, and Jiten could easily see that she was an older version of the lady in the photographs.
There was a fleeting moment of coldness at Jiten's back but it quickly disappeared.
roleplay [#down here] now okay?
Cedric looked around. The faint voices of men and wemon screaming came from one of the halls. Cedric ran towards it. As he stepped one foot into the the hall, he couldn't see anything. It was all dark. Cedric turned around thinking there must be some light comming from where he was, but no. Everywhere around him the was darkness. He put hes hands out to touch the wall, but as his hands touched it, something slithered on it. Cedric suddenly pulled his hands off the wall. "What the hell was that?" He asked him self.
"Is someone there?" a voice called in the darkness. The voice was thick, like the man was speaking with his mouth full.
*Yes! theres someone here, it could be a contestant!* "Yes! Over Here!" Cedric yelled and headed towards the direction of the voice. He moved slow, fearing he would hit the walls again and get the "thing" on him again. All of a sudden, Cedric hit a wall. He turned around and started to head the other way but before he could move, a, what felt like a tenticle grabed his leg and pulled. Another one whipped around his chest and pulled too. "HELP! HELP ME PLEASE!!!," Cedric yelled. More tenticles swung around him and started pulling him againt the wall. Cedric reached for a knife in his pocket, and cut on of the tenticles open, then another one and then another until he fell to the ground.
"Oh hold on," the voice said, unconcerned about Cedric's panic. "Let me get a light." There was a pause, then a flare of a flame in the distance. It immediately afforded enough light to see what was attacking Cedric, which was: nothing. "Sometimes in the dark, I jump at my own shadow, too," the owner of the voice said in an attempt to comfort Cedric. He was still too far away to see anything about him other than that he was unnaturally tall and thin.
"uh... hi there." Cedric said, analizing the guy. He put his hand out hoping the guy would help him up.
The guy saw Cedric from across the room offer his hand for help. He walked over, his long, thin legs making the trip a matter of moments.
When the guy arrived he towered over Cedric. His face seemed a patchwork of stitches, which continued down his neck into the beaten suit he was wearing. He saw what Cedric wanted and raised both arms helplessly. One hand held onto a candle-holder, and the other... The suit flopped at about the middle of his forearm, where the rest of his hand should have been but had ended. "Sorry there," he said. "You'll have to pull yourself up."
Cedric didn't trust this guy. He didn't look too friendly. He made sure to crawled a little back wards and then got up. "uh... do you know any thing about "buisness unfinsihed no more"? Cedric asked as he got up. He hoped that the answer would help him through the house.
Cedric looked around but couldn't see anything. He looked under him, where the light from the candle revieled, a newpaper. Cedirc put the paper near the fire and it lit. He started walking around the man making sure to keep one eye on him at all times.
"Can't say I've been out much from this room," the man said. "Hard to say I remember what's out there, or what is happening." Even as Cedric stood up, the stitched-toget
her man was still several feet the taller. "The Lady keeps bitching, but you can hear that whenever she wakes up, from wherever you are." He eyes the newspaper, clearly mourning its loss and also being wary of the somewhat uncontrolled flame it produced. The newspaper was so old it was quickly burning lower.
Cedric wasn't paying attention to the newspaper, he was too busy looking around, so when the fire touched his hand, he droped the paper. "whos this "lady"?" Cedric asked.
"The Lady of the Mansion, of course," the man said, extending one long leg to stomp out the smoldering bit of paper before it caught the old wood on fire. "She runs this place, ever since her husband and child died. The husband of sickness," he said, his voice taking on the tone of gossip. "The child..." He raised a freakishly thin finger and pressed it to his lips. "Shhh. That's a secret."
"Where can i find her?," Cedric asked. He remembered that the last mission was called... a place of buisness, and there was a voice that said "Business unfinished no more". Was there a connection, and he wondered what the button did. "Has there been any sudden changes lately over here, and do you know anything about a button?" Cedric asked. He was desperate and was just thinking of random connections and ideas.
"Last I was out, the Lady was upstairs, in her study," the man replied. "And as for knowing what is going on, or a button..." He extended a lengthy arm. It was long enough to reach almost to a nearby wall, which was covered in white chalk tallies. They were criss-crossing across each other and thick enough in number to be impossible to count. "A count of my days within here," he said. "Of course, without light, it is hard to tell when it is night or day. I go by my mood, which I assume changes every day, or when I grow tired." He looked at the wall. "I have not been outside this room in a very long time," he said, his voice suddenly low.
"Oh, ok. I'm gona go find the stairs now, may i borrow your candle?" Cedric asked.
"Yes; I am used to the dark, and I imagine you are not," the man replied, blowing it out and leaving the two in utter darkness. A few seconds later, Cedric felt the unlit candle, without the holder, pressed into his hands. "Good luck," the man covered in stitches said, then there was the noise of him walking away.
"Thankyou!" Cedric yelled. He still couldn't see because the man blew out the candle. He walked around with his hands infront of him, hoping not to hit anything. To his surprise, he felt something hit his head, something long and stringy.... like those old fasioned light bulb switch! Cedric put his hand around the sting and pulled. Nothing happened at first but then, directly above him, sparks burst out of a light bulb. It didn't turn on but it did shout out sparks. Cedric had an idea, if he could make the light bulb spark again, maybe the sparks could light his candle. Cedric pulled the string again but this time he put the candle up to the bulb. Sparks flew everywhere, including the candle and as Cedric thought, it caught fire. Cedric shifted the hand with the candle to his front. He was happy to find a door. Cedric ran out the door in full speed.
Now he was in a different room. It felt much bigger and luckly, it had some light comming from holes in the wall. As cedric turned around, he found stairs! They didn't look safe, but after all, nothing here looked safe to him. He slowly walked to the stairs and carefully but one foot on the first step. Surprisingly, it seemed strong. Cedric waisted no time, and ran up the stairs.
He found himself in another hallway. The floor was checkered, and through a trick of the light, it looked like it narrowed at the very end. From where he was standing, it seemed as though the door at the end was only two feet tall.
Cedric ran to the first door and opened it, but it was empty. He went to the next room about it was empty too. This continued all the way to the last door, which was the one that looked two feet tall. He twisted the knob and...
The door wasn't an illusion; it was truly only two feet tall. Cedric would have had to kneel down to even see within it. The room beyond was a regular-sized room, however, and looked as though it might have once been a greenhouse. Most of the plants were dying save a few hardier onces who could survive infrequent waterings. Someone was bent over a plant in the corner, murmuring to it.
"uh.. hi there," Cedric called through the tiny door.
The figure froze, then looked over its shoulder. It was a girl, barely five feet tall. Her eyes were completely black and she had light white veins running across her face, like the leaf of a plant. "Who are you?" she asked, bluntly.
"I'm Cedric Zole. I was hoping you could help me find this "Lady of the house"," cedric said.
The girl pointed her finger to the upper right-hand corner of the ceiling, apparently motioning towards the second floor. Her black eyes became intently focused on Cedric. "You are the only one who wants to find her," the girl said. "If you see her, ask where the little one is." The plant-girl turns back to her plants. "She never visits anymore."
"the little one?," Cedric asked. "whos that."
The girl frowned, slightly annoyed. "The little one," she repeated. "Smallish person." She motioned at a height about a foot shorter than herself. "About this big. Small girl, I think." She turned back to her plant and resumed murmuring to it, patting the dirt with a small spade.
"Do you know any way i can get up there, to the Lady i mean," Cedric asked.
"Walking," the girl said, her face crinkling as she started to become even more annoyed. "Works for most people. Plants could grow there, but that would take time." She stared at her pot. "Nobody has ever asked me how to get to the Lady. Only how to run from. And I don't know the answer to either question." She began stroking the dirt, slowly, almost sensually. "Everybody's running," she purred, in a hypnotic trance.
"Acctully, i was hoping that she could help me," Cedric said. "I need to do a certain task before another person does it, problem is i don't know what the task is. Do you by any chance know anything about some sort of buisness?," Cedric asked.
The girl raised an eyebrow at him. "Stupid question," she stated bluntly. "Business? I know all sorts of business. My business is plants. Your business is being annoying." She turned around. "And although the Lady could not help you, go through that door and up the stairs," she said, pointing at a mess of hanging vines to her right that were mostly hiding a door. "If she kills you, too, it really only means to me that you are out of my hair."
"uh... ok, thankyou." Cedric said. Cedric walked over to the door. He slowly opened it.
The door creaked open, giving off as much dust as it was possible for it to hold--it hadn't been opened in a very long time. Behind it was a dark hallway smelling of mold and some stairs at the end, slightly rotten through.
Cedric walked into the hallway. It occassionaly made sounds that gave Cedric a feeling that it was very old. Cedric walked till the stairs. He tilted his head up to see what was above. He slowly took one step at a time till he was at the top.
He found himself in a very long hallway. There was nothing of any particular interest where he stood, but ahead and down the hall to his left there were loud noises, like shouting or threats.
The house began to warp and shake, like something horrible was happening. Suddenly, on the opposite side of the hallway where the noises were coming from, still a ways away from Cedric himself, the wall went black and a growl rose from the abyss.
A monster stepped from the hole, bleeding black and advancing on a few people. There were screams, then silence. After a bit, the monster reappeared in Cedric's view, turned its black head towards the man.
Its red eyes were the last thing Cedric saw.
In yet another room, Johnathan found himself standing around and old, dusty, junk place. Antiques were out and about everywhere and seemed to go on forever. However, there was much space to move around. Johnathan, himself, was still in a daze from hearing that lady speak his name. He only wished that she had draped over him like that. Finally, after coming out of his daze, he looked around and began cackling. "Finally, ole chap, your kind of place!" After a moment of looking around the dark and filthy place with its junk and white sheets, lit only by the moonlight that overlooked a graveyard, he heard the piano playing and went into another trance of his. "Lovely...." Looking around once more, he found, to his suprise, and old cracked violin that he immediately picked up, tuned, and began to play in harmony to the piano.
In the corner of the room, a small glow appeared. It almost seemed like a trick of the moonlight until it moved independently of the clouds. The whole thing formed a faint outline of a very small person, listening intently to the music.
Johnathan, for a few moments, had only been watching his own fingers on the instrument, but suddenly the faint glow to the side of him caught his attension. His eyes instantly went to the small form, yet he did not stop his playing, and after a short moment of shock, he grinned. "Hello, duckie." He whispered only faintly, coming to realise that the outline was listening. Then, to show off for the thing, he began to sway and deepen his playing so that his song took over the melody of the piano, though, he did not exclude its tune.
The outline wavered slightly at his recognition, but as the music continued, the form stayed. The outline grew firmer, and details began to emerge, such as a slight smile on a girl's face. It was a small girl. Her dress was tattered, and with as much detail as the rest of her was, her eyes were still blurry. However, it was obvious she was happy.
Johnathan couldn't help but chuckle through his suprise at the ghost. A little girl! Well, he had entertained many a little girls in his day. "Ahh, little duckie, would you like to dance?" Again, he said it in only a whisper, thinking that a spirit wouldn't too much like loud noises. He continued his playing but began to hop from one foot to another with the beat of his tune. Along with his dance, he made a few crazy faces, ones he knew made little ones laugh.
The child shook her head at his invitation to dance, almost frantically. She then opened her mouth and laughed at his faces, almost soundlessly, her giggles sounding as though they came from a very far distance. She still did not move to join him in his dance, even though her body language clearly said she wanted to.
"Awww, well, that is quite alright, little duckie." Johnathan whispered again slowing his music till it was again just an undertone to the piano's faint melody. He couldn't help but be reminded by this small ghost girl of someone he once knew, himself. What a tragic past she had had! Slowly, like a train coming to a stop, his face ceased to make funny adjustments, and he twirled in slow motion to sit on the ground with his legs crossed. Dust poofed up around him, but still, he played softly on the violin a happy yet sad tune. "Do you play here often, little duckie? I suppose this is your house." He grinned a grin that was not unkind.
The girl tucked her knees under her chin, like she was sitting, and shook her head. "I'm not supposed to be here," she said, her voice again faint. It almost sounded like she was talking through a door. "I can't play outside of the playroom or I'll get in trouble."
"Well, you can't be too happy whilst breaking the rules. I shall escort you back to your room, unless you wish otherwise, duckie." Johnathan gave a slight happy twist to his music and posed his face like a galiant knight, all the while keeping his voice to a low. "Wouldn't want you playing all alone there, would we?"
The girl's face jerked, almost fearful. "I can't have visitors," she said. "It is one of the rules." She looked around, getting worked up as her outline faded. "Mommy says I break a lot of rules. If I break one more rule she'll be really angry. I can't play here." She glanced back at Johnathan, her form floating up to the ceiling. "I'm sorry," she whispered before disappearing upstairs.
"Ah! Shit and damn it all to hell!" Johnathan proclaimed once the girl dissapeared. Now he was all alone again. How he hated not haveing anyone around, even if it was a fish or ghost girl. Before he had even started his curses, he had stopped playing the violin and felt like smashing it would make him feel better, but he contained himself. In a huff, he stood and looked around. "Shit." Now what? "Why don't you just get out of this stinkin' room and find somethin' interestin'?!" He practically yelled at himself before moving around to find a door, which was diffuicult with the little amout of light he had, which made nothing on the far off walls hold any shape. "Where are you, damn ye?" The violin and bow swung in each hand.
The bow snagged on a beat-up cloth, which fell and landed right in front of a door, swinging up enough dust to draw attention to its heavy frame. The cloth had fallen off a portrait of what appeared to be the same girl who had been ghostified and left Johnathan earlier. She had exceptionally pretty eyes.
Johnathan's cloudy eyes went from the portrait to the door and back again. "Little duckie." He whispered softly while gawking at the picture with an all but mindless expression. After a few moments of staring at the portrait of the young girl, he kissed the tips of his fingers and placed them to the picture's lips. "What lovely eyes, duckie." Stepping back, he gave a long sweeping bow to the portrait before turning the knob to open the door. "I only wish I could take you with me."
The hallway he entered into was on the first floor, with aging portraits and statues adorning the halls; basically, what a rich person's mansion would look like. Quite a few of those portraits outlined a certain lady, aging a bit through the paintings but not changing a fair amount. Any portraits of the pretty young girl were nowhere to be found. Down a ways, the hallway widened into a large room, with some mahogany stairs adorning them and heading up to the upstairs-where the ghost girl had floated off to.
"I guess I'll have to find you, duckie." Johnathan sighed as he headed for the staircase. No where to go but up. He laughed at himself before laughing at the portraits and marble carvings. Actually, more barking than laughing was what he was doing while inspecting the pictures that lined the walls as he passed. Soon, he began doing very poor quality 'voice throwings' to entertain himself with making the statues seem to talk. "Hey! You there! Don't you be talking smack to me!" He cackled at one of the statues he made talk with his own voice...which he wasn't very good at in the first place, anyways. Reaching the staircase, he ran his hand over the railing and called up. "Duckie...."
At the top of the stairs, a girl flitted past, barely visible for more than a split second, heading to the left.
"Ahh!" As quick as Johnathan's limber legs could carry him, he bolted up the stairs, tripping only slightly untill reaching the top and snapping his head to the left with more over exagerated movement. He liked doing that, making unnecissary motion. "You're too slow, ole chap." He whispered to himself before crouching low and moving towards the left like a skilled hunter in the jungle, all the while chuckling quite manically and looking at all the pretty decorations he had grown too familiar with. Of coarse, his main attension was on finding his little duckie.
"You can't come up here," a voice from behind him whispered urgently. The girl stood there, clutching her hands together. "It's not safe up here." She began to fade back down the hallway, disappearing only to pop up another ten feet down. It was too fast for Johnathan to catch up to her, but even though her words told him to turn back, she still seemed like she was leading him to somewhere.
"Come now, duckie." Johnathan complained while moving quickly to keep up with the girl's image wherever it tended to appear. He had ceased to play aroud so much as compared to actually keeping up with the spirit. It was a wild chase for him, resulting from his facination with the ghost and his need to be around some form of life...even if that form of life was death. It wasn't easy for him to loose his breath, but he was quickly growing agitated and felt like dropping the violin, but no. He would keep it.
Around the corner, down the hall, the ghost girl hovered in front of a door for a split second. But closer to Johnathan, there was a slightly open door, light emanating from inside.
Johnathan wanted so badly to go to the door that his duckie had appeared in front of, but the poor lad was so impulsive, so, instead, he peaked inside the cracked door to see what was there. "Damn your curiosity." He scolded himself.
Jiten whipped around, only to see another contestant heading down the hall towards him. The Goddess had called him... Jonathan? Yes, that was it. Jonathan. Jiten almost called out to him, but then realized that last time he had befriended someone in this insane competition, he had lost. For the moment, he would stay invisible and follow this fellow to see what clues he had gathered. Without a sound, he slowly stalked this Jonathan, listening to his strange self-dialog.
The woman continued her pacing, but paused when the door opened some more. She whirled around, some hair escaping from her tight bun. "Who is it!" she insisted, although not moving closer to the door. "It is between 9:06 and 9:34, and you are not allowed to walk about! It is against the rules!"
Johnathan paused at seeing the lady and plastered on a large grin with one good swipe of the room with his eyes. "So, if I stay still untill 9:35, I can walk around some more?" His unnatural grin grew a tad wider and he whispered in a non-too-sane voice to the stranger lady, "The statues told me to do it." He snickered, still frozen in the doorway.
Her eyes went wide as she began to breath heavily. "You are not allowed out of your room," she hissed, her voice growing dangerously low. "You cannot break the rules." She backed up until she bumped against the shelf that Jiten had seen her at. Her hand groped wildly until it grabbed something. The woman closed her eyes and calmed down. When her eyes opened, they contained a malicious gleam. "He always did like your eyes," she murmured, her voice bordering on a growl as she brandished before her a seven-inch knife taken from the kitchen.
Ceasing to be frozen any more, Johnathan's stance went a bit slack as he stroked his chin and examined the lady. Well, obviously...she was crazy, and if anyone knew crazy, it was Johnathan. "Yes, I always thought them beautiful myself." Disreguarding the feeling that he shouldn't joke around, Johnathan continued his quirky ways even in the face of a seven-inch knife. "Though, not as lovely as little duckie's."
"Nothing is ever as beautiful as her eyes," the woman said, gritting her teeth, an almost maniacal grin spreading across her features. "Now, though... Now I can make you pretty just like her." She gripped the knife, focused her gaze on Johnathan, and began to advance on him. "Come here, my darling," she purred. "You've broken one too many rules today."
At this time, Johnathan actually dropped the violin and bow, which made an aweful racket, and posed himself to bolt if necessary. This old lady couldn't be as fast as he. "Um...that is actually quite alright. I'm am much to comfortable with my humble appearance." Then, regaining from the shock of being advanced upon by a loony woman with a weapon, he reached and picked up the violin and bow again. Well, maybe since it worked before, it would work again. Placeing the instument to his chin and bow to its strings, Johnathan let out a smooth string of notes that he remembered from the piano melody, ignoring the fact that the lady was still coming towards him.
Jiten was pretty sure at this point that this woman was the one who had killed the girl, as well as the one who must have gouged the eyes out of the pictures in the library. He watched her lunge at Johnathan, and watched as he responded by playing a violin. What kind of idiot was he? Jiten reappeared just inside the doorway and quickly withdrew several small darts coated in curare, a paralyzing agent, which he deftly threw towards the old woman.
The sudden appearance of the young boy took Johnathan for more of a suprise than the lady had upon meeting her. "Well, so much for getting her to calm down." Johnathan groaned as he realized what had just taken place. People usually didn't cooperate once they had something thrown at them. "Blast it all to damnation!" He swore.
The woman snarled at Jiten. Most of the darts had gone rogue, as it was hard to aim in the darker light, or had snagged on her heavy, old-fashioned outfit. The ones that actually connected had very little effect on her increased metabolism; like tranquilizers aimed at a charging rhino, they only served to make her angry and possibly slow her reaction time down. She took one heavy step towards the door, her eyes focusing on Jiten. "You are not supposed to be out of the playroom," she said, breathing heavily, knife gleaming wickedly in the firelight. "I told you what would happen if I found you outside of the playroom again." Suddenly, she was at Jiten's side, Johnathan forgotten, raising up the knife for a downward stroke.
"Yee!" In a quick haste, Johnathan's good will got the best of him, and in doing so, it made him drop his favorite trinket from the house AGAIN and grab the boy around the waist to haul him out of the room so that the crazy lady wouldn't kill him. "You crazy person," He almost yelled at the boy. "You don't throw things at other crazy people!" He scooted almost to the door that the girl had hovered in front of before his curiosity got the best of him and stopped to watch if the lady would come out now that she had been hit with whatever Jiten had thrown.
"But... she was going to kill you," stammered Jiten. He saw that Johnathan was about to enter the room. "Don't," he said. "I'll go look for you. Actually, I'll do one better, I'll go get that violin you were playing." With that, he disappeared and silently crept into the room.
Again, Johnathan put on a shocked face at the fact that the boy had dissapeared. Weird weird weird! He stood there dumbly watching the place where Jiten had vanished with a twisted face and curled nose. "Crazy, cross-dressing, invisible person." Finally, he rolled his eyes and heaved out a sigh while still hovering infront of the door that little duckie had indicated. "You should wait." He told himself. "Duckie?...." He turned and stared at the closed door.
Jiten saw the old woman once again, and, presumably, she was unable to see him. He snatched the violin from the ground and dashed out of the room, forgetting that the violin would appear to be hurtling out into the hallway of its own volition. "Here you are," he said with a grin as he reappeared in front of Johnathan and handed him the violin and bow.
The woman, however, had obviously followed it out. Suddenly there was a knife embedded in the violin, missing Jiten by a hair. "Objects cannot float on days beginning with 'T,'" she hissed, her arm still outstretched from when she had thrown the knife. In her other hand she held a poker, picked up from its resting spot by the fire, and once again advanced on the two of them, swinging the iron bar violently.
"Ah shit." After another initial shock of seeing the boy apear, as if he too were some kind of ghost, Johnathan had to focus again on the crazy lady. First, however, he had to poke out his lip and mourn the destroyed violin. "Damn it all." He sighed before grabbing the amazing, dissapearing cross-dresser and pulling him back behind himself. Then, with a thought, he posed himself like a nice young man, back straight and shoulders down with chin up. "I am all too sorry, mother dear, it shall not happen again." In the face of a sharp poker, maybe he could just play along.
Realizing what Johnathan was doing, Jiten decided he would join in. He was still small enough that a falsetto voice was hardly different from his normal one. He peaked his head out from behind Johnathan. "Yes mother," he said. "It won't happen again." Maybe since he was wearing the dress... maybe she would mistake him for her own daughter. Then again, that might not necessarily be a good thing, judging by the pictures in the library.
"We must think up a suitable punishment, to remind you of the rules," she growled, obviously only mildly calmed down from that.
"Please, mother," a girl's voice cried out. The woman whirled around to see the girl ghost standing there, her eyes still blurred out, but a piteous lilt to her voice. "Please don't. I broke the rules. I... I broke them all." Her voice was much more convincing than the two boy's, mostly because she sounded legitimately sorry and scared. She obviously didn't know that she could die twice; she still sounded terrified.
Jiten stared at the small ghost. That was the one! The girl from the pictures. She must have been... oh no. The old woman must have killed her. He looked back at the woman, and hoped that the girl would, at the very least, distract her from killing them. He suffered another moment of confusion when he noticed the winner of the first round of the tournament appear at the top of a nearby set of stairs. He hid behind Johnathan, and just for good measure, disappeared into the air once more. The old woman had been unable to see him previously, so he figured he would be able to escape if the need should arise.
"Little duckie...." Johnathan couldn't help but grin at finding the ghostie again, even under the situation. A chuckle escaped him, he had seen many a times that reflected this one, mainly in his own home, as well as he could remember, anyways. Suddenly, he poised himself to tackle the lady while she was turned around. And then, there he went! He pounced, aiming his hands at the poker to struggle it away from her. Perhaps, even if she did have more weapons, he would only get mildly wounded....perhaps.
Jiten saw what was Johnathan was doing and attempted to assist him by throwing a loop of Seril's spider-silk rope around the woman's ankle. As Johnathan flew through the air, Jiten pulled.
Shouting occurred from their left by Joshua, who had suddenly appeared, but nobody paid any attention. The woman was thrashing like mad to reach the little girl, and her poker was coming a bit too close to Johnathan for comfort. The ghost girl was becoming more agitated, evidenced by the walls shaking as she screamed at her mother that it was all her fault. "Run!" she said as books fell on both Johnathan and the woman, knocking out the woman briefly and only somewhat stunning Johnathan. "Please!"
Johnathan's eyes rolled about in his head a bit and he stummbled around with a goofy grin. "As you w-wish, duckie." Realy, the ghost girl sounded full of terror, and with Johnathan's slightly out-of-mind thinking, he could only obey and stumble in the opposite direction towards the door that the ghost girl had orininally wanted him to go through, which he fumbled open.
The walls of the house gave off a huge groan. The girl's form started to glow blue, although she seemed completely unaware, as the woman groaned away, grabbing her poker and standing up shakily. "Rules," she growled, her only word before she began to walk towards Johnathan.
"No! She can't go in the playroom!" the girl shrieked, covering her eyes and curling up into herself.
The wall at the end of the hallway seemed to virtually collapse in upon itself, a black abyss forming in the wall. Two large eyes, at least ten feet off the ground, began to glow steadily as the whole house seemed to resonate with its growl.
Johnathan, having regained his wits almost completely back, slammed the door shut once again. "No?" His eyes went shifty as he poised defensively against the playroom door. "Then what, duckie? What do I do?"
Joshua looked around quickly to the door that Johnathan slammed and back to the Lady. Oh crap, Joshua thought, being stuck in the same room with the Lady and the mysterious house monster with the huge eyes. With courage like a lion, and also partially with no where else to run, Joshua boldly stood his ground and faced the Lady. "Stay back, you won't hurt the girl!" he said with a snap of his whip.
The monster stepped out of the portal. It looked like an extension of the shadow, tendrils of black mist wisping off of powerful outlines of arms. Red eyes continued to glare from the blackness as a dark mouth opened, exposing shadow teeth. Dark liquid seeped from its mouth, burning holes in the ground. Its red eyes shifted from Joshua to the mother, indiscriminately. It would kill whatever it got to first.
The girl clenched her fists as her face turned towards Johnathan. She grabbed at her mother's hands, passing through but slowing her down just a little more. "You can go in," she said, her voice weak. "Close the door. I don't... I don't want her to go in again. She..." Ghostly tears leaked from the blurs where her eyes should be.
"Alright, duckie." Johnathan all but whispered. He was rightly willing to do as she asked, because no one out of their right mind would want to be around some crazy shadow monster. He gave a long, sweeping, quick bow to the young ghost girl, not knowing if this would be the last he ever saw of her. After giving the shadow a quirky 'Imma gettin' the hell outta here' look, he swung open the playroom door, grabbed the cross-dresser boy, and slammed the door shut once they had both gotten inside. "Damn, I wish I could have saved that instrument!"
Jiten jumped from Johnathan's arms. "What the hell was that?!" He glanced apprehensively at the door. It had better hold up against that beast. He had seen some twisted creatures in his time as Seril's son, but none so terrifying as that shadow-demon.
The monster took another massive step forward, completely ignoring Joshua's whip as it advanced on the two still in the hallway. The ghost girl was screaming at the mother to please not go in the playroom.
Joshua's last stand was an amazing thing of beauty. Steel determination could be found in his eyes, a last glance at the door behind him before he continually snapped his whip at the advancing monster. Even if he was blind Joshua could feel the monster gaining much ground. His short life soon flashed before his eyes; his various jobs, his parents, everything he held dear to Josh's heart. Blinking his eyes the surreal scene came back into focus. "So this is how it all ends..." With that, Joshua brought back his whip one final time and yelled in spite of his immediate death. His yell wasn't of fear but of pure courage; Josh's death mask had a smile upon it; he knew that his courage had risen above Death's despair. "So be it..." he said, and with that Joshua was gone.
Jiten and Johnathan heard screaming from the other side as the someone rattled the door to try and get in the playroom. Even though neither Johnathan or Jiten had locked the door, the knob wouldn't turn. The screams became louder, then stopped, replaced with a low growl that faded into nothing.
From behind them, the ghost girl slowly faded into view, floating in front of the door to a closet. Her head was down and her body conveyed distant sadness.
After watching the door and listening to the screams, pleads, and growling, Johnathan could only stand speachless with a slight grin to his face. Obviously, he found something funny about this situantion. However, once he felt a chill and turned to see his duckie across the room, he took a step forward with his face wiped of all amusement. "Duckie?"
The girl didn't look up or acknowledge her nickname. Still staring at the ground, she drifted backwards into the closet, disappearing behind the door.
Mesmerized by this strange exchange, Jiten silently followed the girl's ghost into the closet.
"Ay!" Johnathan exclaimed quietly before shooting off behind Jiten. He didn't, in the least bit, want to be left alone. Into the closet he went, also.
Seeing as how it was a closet, they honestly didn't get very far. In fact, they got about two inches before the both of them were frozen by a flash of images running through their mind. From the angle and the subject matters, it was like the images were residual memories of the girl's.
A father picking up a small girl, only three, and twirling her around as the mother looked on the background.
The same girl, now five, alone with her father. He adored her, said she was the prettiest girl with the prettiest eyes. She was the only woman he'd ever need...
Seven. There was another woman. She was old and her face was bitter when the father wasn't looking. "You cannot go outside of the playroom," she was saying to the girl. "You musn't run about the mansion. You'll hurt yourself. The rules are for your own good."
The father was gone. Sickness. He died on a Sunday; the girl never got to wear the new dress he had bought her. The sickness had claimed both him and the rest of the woman's goodwill. "You were always the pretty one," she sneered at the girl. "My darling stepdaughter. Your eyes will always be prettier, won't they? You musn't squint or they shall get wrinkled. Do not go into the sun, then--stay in the playroom."
Always prettier.
The woman sat in a room, holding the family Bible. Something in her face snapped. Picking up a quill, she violently crossed out the word Fauntine. Almost stumbling in rage, she ran to the kitchen, knocking over the knife drawer and grabbing the first sharp object that came to her hand. The paintings she passed in the hall were subjected to her rage, eyes gouged out in vicious slashes. Then smaller pictures in their frames, stabbed hard enough to break the glass.
Then the girl. She was not in the playroom. She must forever be in the playroom. She can never be with her father ever again.
The two snapped out of it, a haze lifting from their eyes. And at their feet, leaning up against the wall, lay the skeleton of the little girl, wearing the tattered dress of the ghost, with marks still in her skull, scarring the bone of her eye sockets.
To their left, a door gently appeared.
Tears had begun to form in Jiten's eyes, and he wiped them away with the sleeve of the girl's dress. "Well," he said to Johnathan. "Now we know what happened." Slowly and deliberately, he removed the dress. "I'm very sorry what happened to you," he said to the small skeleton, and draped the dress across it. After a moment of silence, he turned to Johnathan. "Well, this door seems to be our only option at this point. Do you want to say something to the girl, or do you want to just go?"
Johnathan didn't answer. He stood staring at the skeleton with both hands hooked onto the closet door's frame with his mouth twitching every so often. After a while that only seemed like a secong to Johnathan, he finally let go of the frame and turned silently, contemplating, still not answering to Jiten's words.
Jiten was unsure of what to do. Johnathan had seemed rather attached to the little ghost girl. Jiten almost put a hand on Johnathan's shoulder, but stopped. "Well, I'm going through this door," he reached for the door handle. "I guess I'll see you on the other side if you decide to come." With that, he quietly pulled the door open and walked through.
They found themselves in the graveyard that they might have seen through a window or two, the only thing outside of the house that wasn't a hazy mist, closed off from the rest of the world. The gravestone at their feet said the name of the girl's father-even if it was never stated in the memories, the knowledge was there. And beside that grave was a silent hole, unmarked, but waiting for its occupant.
It appeared their work wasn't quite done yet.
Jiten walked silently back into the closet. He knew what had to be done. Carefully, he picked up the skeleton of the small girl, and walked it to the grave. He dropped it as respectfully as possible into the hole. He knelt beside the grave and made sure that the dress covered most of the bones. With that, he stood, bowed his head in respect for the dead, and uttered a the blessing he had been taught to speak over a loved one. He had not known this girl, but he still felt a great sadness wash over him. Perhaps it was the sorrow that the girl had not been allowed to feel, trapped in that small room. Now all he could do was hope he had set her free.
The grave seemed to fill in by itself, earth piling on top of the skeleton until it was filled. Then the whole place shuddered for just a second and a huge tension left the air, something not noticeable until it was gone... And then it was monumental.
And mist rose from beneath him.
Skreeg's nose twitched around all rodent like, his arms up to protect his face. Once the voices and the touching had stopped, he looked around, ran to a window and exclaimed, "Awww geez!" at the graveyard scene beyond. But he was safe, right? He had won... He hunched over and looked around the room for anything else spooky.
The first thing Skreeg probably noticed is that his room is upside-down. The furniture was on the ceiling, lamps on the floor... Other than that, he was in a normal living-room type situation. There was a couch and a few comfortable chairs facing a fireplace, with a table that had a few books on it. One, a Bible, was open to the front cover, which had a few family names in it. One was crossed out violently. There were also a few paintings on the walls--whoever lived her was rich... of course.
His eyes jumped around the ceiling as he crouched lower and lower in fear. He pulled back his hair and starting pacing, rubbing his hands together furiously. Last time, last time a random piece of printer paper gave him directions. It didn't look like there were may printers here, so he walked around, staring at the ceiling, looking for anything out of place beyond the fact it was upside down. "Business..." he mumbled to himself, staring at the paintings. "Business... done, undone or... something." Much vaguer than push the button. Anything here could mean something. The open book, though, was the only sign of human life here. Considering he might encounter these people or their monster chairs, he hopped up and down until he finally it tore it down and shoved it in his trench coat. He looked around for a door, and depending on whether it was upside down too, he either slipped out or hopped out due to the door's proximity to what should have been the ceiling.
Skreeg found himself in an empty room, this time right-side-up. It was, quite frankly, an 'organ room;' without the body parts, of course, just a huge instrument on one side and many seats leading up to it. It was almost a performance room.
He walked between the chairs, looking around to make sure none of them had fur. He stood in front of the organ, cocking and scratching his head. He sniffed and looked behind him one last time before poking one of the pipes. He paused, then poked it two more times before turning his attention to the keys. He made a dull grunting noise in his throat to clear some phlegm and then pushed the lowest note. Then the black key next to it, smiled, and started to do the Jaws theme.
The sound of footsteps drifted under the noise of the instrument. Someone was slowly walked down the hallway towards the other door to the room, the one that was wide-open.
Skreeg rocked back and forth as his fingers alternated keys, but then he heard a creak, and, in his usual paranoid manner, he spun around with his arms thrown around his face protectively.
An old, withered face poked into the room. "Oh, my," an elderly man said. "This instrument has not been played in a very long time." He was dressed very much like a butler, and looked ancient. The man seemed as though ready to croak at any moment.
Skreeg lowered his arms as his eye twitched. "You're uh, not a ghost or something, right?" he asked stupidly
"I do not believe so," the old man said. "But ghosts do roam these halls, it seems... So I must direct the same question at you, young sir."
"Well, I don't think so... I could be dead, and this could be like... purgatory or something, and that lady could have been, like, Satan's bitch... Aw geez. You know? That would make a load of sense, I wonder what offed me..." Skreeg rambled more to himself then anyone.
"Sounds like quite the pickle, young sir," the older man conceded. "But if you died, this is not Purgatory." His good-natured eyes darkened slightly. "Evil things have happened here." He shook his old head and began to walk away, out the door and down the hallway.
"Wait wait wait!" skreeg ran after him. This guy was the first thing he wasn't afraid of. "What, uh, things?" he asked, walking beside him.
The old man shook his head once more. "I am but a servant," he said. "I have no place detailing the events of those days." He stooped just a little more, his posture again revealing his age. "But there are echoes all around, young sir. Although it is not my place to tell you, there are others here who could."
Well, it's not like he had to figure it out this time. "So, uh, you're alive, and you live here... I'm guessing, since you... yeah. Can I trail you? You know, to keep safe? Heh?"
The old man laughed, his voice old and cracking. "As if following me would guarantee your safety," the man said, still chuckling. "Unless you are a part of the mansion, it is most likely that you are in danger of being consumed." He looked around. "Never able to leave."
"Wait! This house... eats people?" he said, hunching lower.
"Not in the sense of digestion, young sir," the old man replied. "But many times, the people who are here are either established figures or... well, on their way to be assimilated." He gave Skreeg a steady look, even while walking. "For example... have you seen an exit lately?"
"Well, I haven't been around much..." he said, not liking how this was going.
"Ah," the old man murmured. "Well, if you were to look around, one would not become apparent." He stopped at a hall closet, opening it and taking out a white dust cloth, which he draped over one arm. "Those who live there have given up looking. I have given up looking, as well. All I can do is continue my duties." He started walking again, as though he knew exactly where he was going.
"But uh, there's this chick. She zaps us places and stuff. I think that, uh, there's a thing we have to figure. You know? It's like, a game, I guess," Skreeg said in his usually jarbled english
"Sounds horrible," the old man said, opening a door and walking into the [#dining room].
Joshua had certainly been shocked of the death of the demon-sprite girl and soon realized that everyone that didn't win would soon meet that same fate or something even worse. It was a strange feeling for Joshua to experience, one could almost see pride on Joshua's face when the Goddess put her hand on his shoulder and told everyone that he had taken the first kill. In normal society killing was looked down upon and Josh wasn't certainly a murderer but this wasn't a normal situation. Gritting his teeth together, Josh's resolve to win this tournament was much stronger. Joshua certainly wasn’t afraid of death; most of his life had been in life-death situations, maybe that was why he was really starting to like this tourney and also the Goddess herself with all of her power. In Josh’s mind, these situations demanded that the ends justify the means, so if letting the other contestants die or killing whoever attacked him would make Joshua the winner, so be it. Knowing that the Goddess was watching his every move, Josh gave a bow. “Hope this pleases you Goddess,” Josh announced out loud. With that Joshua started the next chapter of this tournament, looking around to see what was in his immediate surroundings.
He found himself in a kitchen, although with the layer of grime coating everything it was hard to tell that much at first. Everything was dusty or covered in mold from abandoned pots and pans. A lot of the drawers were open, with some utensils scattered nearby; even the knife holder was tilted onto one side. Three of its knife slots were empty, with two of those knives on the counter, one perched precariously close to the edge.
Josh coughed, covering his mouth so not to invite dust in his lungs. Looking around Joshua spied the two knives on the table. His eyes went from his whip to the knives, and eventually started towards the two cutleries. I'll just pocket these knives. I prefer the whip over anything but having two more weapons couldn't hurt. Josh laughed at his thoughts when he realized the unintended irony. Stepping towards the table that held the knives, Josh tried not to slip on the grimy floor.
Nothing happened. The kitchen seemed abandoned; strange, because by the sight of the wear and tear visible through the years of dust and dirt, it was probably once the busiest room of the house some nights.
Joshua looked around and sighed. There is no one here; so desolate. What the heck am I supposed to do here? He began to think on the clue that was given to him. Business unfinished no more...maybe the Goddess wants me and the other contestants to finish something that was started? I hope it's not to clean this whole kitchen, that would be cruel and unusual. With his hand to his chin, Josh made a very philosophical face as he was thinking of what to do. Not even knowing where to begin, Joshua was about to just turn away and try to find a door to anywhere else until the knife holder grabbed his attention. Something just seemed out of place with it not being right side up. "Maybe you do want me to clean up this mess," Josh said out loud and giving a small laugh, the kind you laugh when situations seem so desperate that is all you can do. Joshua placed the knife holder to how it should be, and with a second thought he placed the two knives in. He believed that the unfinished business was the dirty kitchen.
Suddenly, the room became several degrees colder. A few things began to rustle, like someone was moving them ever so slightly. A chilled breeze brushed by Joshua's face, and the mood suddenly turned sour.
Joshua jumped back in sudden shock of the rustling objects and chilled breeze, in doing so tripping on his feet and falling to the floor. Every muscle in his body tensed as Josh tried to get his bearings and see if he could sense the unseen presence. Courage coming back into his heart after the initial shock wore off. Getting slowly to his feet, Josh boldly asked, "Who are you? Show yourself!"
"Don't shout," an elderly female voice scolded. Right behind Joshua, where there wasn't before, stood an older woman. A stained apron was tied about her waist, and she still bore evidence of cooking, such as a streak of flour across her chin. "This is not a place for shouting. This is not a place for you." She frowned at him, the motion cutting deep furrows in her pale face.
Joshua flipped around and immediately crouched, facing this sudden apparition. His eyes began scrutinizing the old woman though not in an outwardly way. He couldn't see any weapons on her; the only threatening feature was her scowl. Alright, I'll play this one nicer than I did the Copy man. Josh slowly raised his hands with his palms out, hoping the woman knew that was a non-threatening gesture. "Ok, ok. No shouting." Taking his eyes off her for just a second, Josh looked around and surveyed the kitchen. "Need a hand cleaning up the kitchen?"
"No," the woman replied, her voice as cutting as the knives Joshua had returned. "I am in charge here, and cleaning is my duty. So is cooking, serving, and..." Her eyes stared at the knives pointedly. "Making sure everything is as it was when everything died."
Josh had one more card to play before we wanted to fight. "Business unfinished no more," he said, hoping that it would mean something to the woman who appeared out of thin air. He could feel adrenaline start to course through his muscle again, but Josh hoped that it wouldn't come to fighting because honestly he didn't know how to hit a ghost.
"Didn't your mother teach you proper English?" the woman scolded. She held out her hand and the knife holder tipped over, the two knifes falling out and skidding to their previous positions. "That's not a proper sentence." At the sound of it, however, her eyes creased even more.
Josh sighed; he didn't like being scolded. Josh was just about to turn away from the ghostly apparition until he thought of one of her last statements. "Wait, 'making sure everything is as it was when everything died'? How did everything die?"
The woman stared at the knives with a hard gaze. "It was a slow death," she finally said. "It started with the death of the father. After that, the house could not prosper. The Lady was... is not in her right mind. It started with the death of the father, and ended with the death of the child." She shook her head. "I have said too much. You must leave this place, or risk becoming trapped here forever."
"You speak as if the Lady is the one in charge here, is that correct?" Joshua asked her, wanting to finish the unfinished business and not be eliminated by doing so. "Either way, can you take me to whoever is in charge of this mansion? Perhaps there is a way to free you and those who reside here."
"May I take you to the Lady," the woman said. "And even if I could, I would not. Around her is no place for a young man like you." She sniffed. "Now get out of my kitchen."
"Why do you say that? That my place shouldn't be around her. I have no quarrel with you but my life is on the line here. I'm in this tournament and each round someone is eliminated to a horrible death. Could you at least point me to the right way?" Joshua was hoping that she would give some sign that she knew what he was talking about. He truly didn't want to fight her; she seemed somewhat good at heart. Her sniffing showed Josh that he could feel empathetic for her, and that alone made him not want to fight her if it came down to that.
"No," the woman said. Her eyes started glowing a deep blue as her voice took on a deeper tenor. "Out." Then, Joshua wasn't given a choice. She flipped her hand and he sailed backwards out of the kitchen, landing roughly in the dining room. The heavy door to the kitchen closed behind him with a heavy bang, and looked as though it would not open again, no matter how hard he tried.
Joshua groaned from the landing of the flight. He laid on his back with his elbows propped up, silently thanking whatever god or goddess was watching over him that he didn't have to stay in the room and fight because after what Josh had just seen he was no match for the ghost. "Well, I guess no really means no." After a moment of laying down, Josh slowly got to his feet; his back and a few muscles aching by gravity trying to push him back down. Once Josh was up, he took a look around to see what was in the dining room.
There were places set for two at the dining table, which stretched a good twenty feet, and which Joshua had just barely missed hitting on his way out. The place settings were on the exact opposite sides of the table and seemed rather lonely. The room was less covered in dust than the kitchen, but only because someone had apparently been dusting every once in a while.
Josh sighed; he didn't know where to turn in this never ending riddle of a tournament. "Business unfinished no more, business unfinished no more..." He kept saying it out loud, hoping to make any sense of it. The flight from the kitchen definitely knocked some wind out of Joshua, so he decided to sit down on one of the chairs at the nearest end of the table. "Some servants this place has, don't even know how to set a table right," he said as Josh was trying to find the answers to this predicament. Absentmindedly, he rearranged the place settings to what they should be because he had nothing else better to do.
Suddenly, the door at the far side opened, and an old man walked inside, Skreeg behind him. He saw Joshua and frowned, and with the sight of the placemats he frowned again. "No, no, that will not do," he murmured, picking up the placemat that Joshua had rearranged and taking it back to its place from across the table. "That is not how they go at all." He whipped off his dusting cloth from his arm and began to dust the table, ignoring both Skreeg and Joshua.
Joshua got up quickly from the dining chair and faced the old man and Skreeg. After a few moments of digesting this new turn of events, Josh said, "Hey, Skreeg right? How are you doing with all of this?" All of the sudden thoughts came into Joshua's mind to try to sabotage Skreeg's progress to win again, but he quickly dismissed it. He had never done anything against Josh and it was still very early in the tournament.
"Uh...." Skreeg was a bit surprised the guy knew his name. The chick had mentioned it but it was fast. Well, Skreeeg sure didn't know who this fellow was who was speaking to him so casually.
The old man was halfway through dusting the incredibly huge table, headed back towards the two. He looked up and finally digested who they were. "Two outsiders arriving this closely apart?" he asked, surprised. "It's never happened before."
Josh looked to the old man and asked, "Are you saying that outsiders come to this mansion from time to time? What brings them here?" Joshua was confused now, wondering if any outsiders escaped this desolate place. "Does the phrase 'business unfinished no more' mean anything to you?"
"Oh!" Skreeg cried, pointing at Josh. That's how it went.
Joshua looked to Skreeg and partly wondered why he cried out and pointed to him; Josh wasn't used to have people pointing to him. Ok, a little bit awkward, but alright. Joshua turned back to the old man and waited for his reply.
The man's face became sour. "Unfinished business," he corrected, much like the ghost in the kitchen. "And you're standing in a house that only exists due to unfinished business." He turned back to his dusting, his stance letting them know that he found the whole thing distasteful.
Skreeg pulled back his out stretched arm with an embarrassed look that resembled a grimace when Josh gave him an odd look. Then he looked towards the butler and pushed back his greasy hair while he listened. "How, uh, do we finish this business?" Skreeg asked.
The old man shook his head. "The only one to know that is the Lady, and she certainly is in no position to tell," the butler said. "I don't even know if this can be resolved. The little one is rather... Obscure."
Joshua sighed, Again with this Lady, who the heck is she anyway, he thought. Trying to depress the mounting frusteration of this riddles and unanswered questions, Joshua asks a bit too forcefully, "Well, can you take us to her? Our lives are kinda on the line here. And who is this little one you speak of?"
The butler sighed. "I cannot take you to her," he said. "Will not, actually. If she finds out I led you to her and your actions lead to not, I will be in much trouble." He looked down at his cloth, suddenly weary. "But I can tell you what you need to know," he finally said. "Somebody has to hear it.
"The Lady," he started, "is the Lady of the mansion. This place used to belong to the Lord of the house, him and his daughter... Fantine. The little one. Fantine's mother had died during childbirth, and Fantine was most dear to my late master. So much so that when the master remarried, the current wife was dreadfully jealous at the amount of attention the girl received." The butler's face turned sour. "And then the Lord died." He fell silent, fighting a bitter feeling deep in his chest, unable to continue.
"And the little F-F-Fantine kid?" Skreeg asked.
"...she continued to be the source of jealousy from the Lady," the butler continued wearily. "The Lady went mad at the death of the Lord, and started piling on rules for the little one to follow. And then one day... The girl disappeared. We assumed her to have run away, but then the mansion was closed down. Nobody could enter or leave." He looked dryly at the two standing before him. "Until now, of course," he added. "But after a while, those who weren't driven mad or killed by the new... additions to the house learned that the girl's soul was still wandering about." The old man gave a sad look to the walls. "She is just a child. I'm sure she doesn't know what she does. Not concretely, anyway."
Skreeg looked at Josh, hoping he got something from this.
Joshua looked from the old man to Skreeg, trying to make sense of all of this. "So you're saying if we help the little girl we could get out of here? Is that the business unfinished?"
"Yes, to put it simply," the butler answered, bluntly. "Fantine is causing all of this. Once you satiate her spirit, we could all get out of here." He looked in the general direction of the stairs, his face tinged with sadness. "Although it has been a very long time."
Joshua reached out to shake his hand, "Thank you so much sir, you have aided us greatly. Is there anything we can do to help in exchange for yours?" Joshua was deeply relieved that someone had finally given hints as to what was happening around here and how to win this round in the deadly tournament.
The butler looked at his hand, then back at him, shaking his head slowly. "When you die, please stay dead," he said, turning back to his work. "You can find the girl up the stairs that are by the painting of Adonis."
Skreeg's lips twisted into an ugly smile. "I, uh, thanks. See you around, I suppose!" And he went off to find this painting. He didn't have to win again, but he wouldn't mind getting out of here as soon as humanly possible.
Joshua stays one more second, looking the ghost in its eyes in deep gratitude. After the moment of thanks, Joshua bolts off after Skreeg up the stairs, looking at every inch of wall to find the painting of Adonis. Once up the stairs, Josh searches throughout the room to find what he could see.
Skreeg blinked in shock as the kid blasted by him and up the stairs. He then shook his head and looked at the wall, to see if the painting of the greek guy was actually there.
Of course, it wasn't, and thus Joshua found nothing of any importance. However, a ways down the hallway Skreeg was in, there was another flight of stairs. Skreeg didn't know it, but it lead to the third wing. And by the foot of the stairs there appeared to be a painting of some significance. Light also seemed to flicker from the upstairs, but just faintly.
"Heh," Skreeg said to himself and shuffled forwards. Once there, he looked at the painting and voila! Greek dude. He glanced down the hall and sighed at the kid who was probably lost right now. He then looked up, spotting the flickering and squinting to see if he could make anything of it. Then he inhaled, his sunken chest inflating, summoning the courage to go up the spooky stairs. But alas... He wheezed the air out and looked up quite terrified. But then he remembered what was up there, a little girl. "Yeah... I could probably take that..." he mumbled to himself and headed up cautiously.
Skreeg got to the top to see a strange scene: one of the boys of the tournament in a dress, another holding a violin with a knife in it, and a crazy-looking lady with a sharp poker. All were staring at a hovering ghost girl, some more violently than others. "I'm sorry," the ghost girl was saying.
Skreeg also saw the little boy in a dress disappear beside the taller one, as the taller one tackled the woman, making her drop her poker.
Skreeg blinked and walked back down the stairs.
Wondering why Skreeg hadn't followed him and due to the fact that the painting couldn't be found anywhere, Joshua went back the way Skreeg was at. As he looked around the hallway, he could see the same flickering light at another staircase. Joshua followed it until he came to the scene where everyone was. He saw Johnathan trying to tackle some lady with an invisible rope coming out of no where to wrap around the lady's leg. Brining out his whip, Joshua made a large snap to get everyone's attention. "Wait; are you the Lady of the house? Please, I don't want to fight, just let us go!" Joshua stated boldly.
Go roleplay in the top area, Joshua, if you plan on staying with this group.
"I think it's too late for that, kid," said Skreeg who passed him on his way down. 'S not like he had to win... he'd hang with the cool butler guy instead. This was nuts.
The butler wasn't too far downstairs, dusting a statue of a knight. The walls began to shake and warp slightly, like it was echoing something distant. The butler looked up with a sad look, spying Skreeg. "Keep an eye out," the butler said, returning to his work. "The house is having a tantrum."
"I uh..." said Skreeg, looking over his shoulder in the direction of the stairs and the screaming. He drifted forwards, crawled under the dining room table and said, "There."
The shaking stopped. The butler sighed and began to head down the hall. "Hopefully, there won't be too much cleanup," he said. Then, abruptly, he stopped, staring.
In front of him, in a wall, an image of a door was forming. It was still hazy, like it was being seen through a mist, but its outline was obviously that of a door.
When the shaking stopped skreeg cawed, "Is it safe?"
The butler laughed, like Skreeg had told a very good joke. However, his laughing wasn't as enthusiastic as it should have been. "What have they done," he muttered to himself.
"Uhhh... " Skreeg said and hugged his legs to him tighter. "Mr. Butler?"
The butler turned slightly to Skreeg. "Yes?" he asked.
"Is it, uh, ok to come out from under the table now?"
The old man looked at Skreeg with a expression that bordered on elderly contempt. He was pushing 80, visually, and had more balls than Skreeg. "No," he said, even if it wasn't entirely true.
The whole house shuddered and the door made the transition from illusion to reality. "Now, this is something new," the butler muttered, as mist rose from beneath Skreeg to cover his vision...
Todd moaned in boredom, "Not another never ending building..." He muttered under his breath, feeling his blood calling for the woods that he called his home. Todd as a predator was usually always uncomfortable indoors. The Oa glanced around himself as he appeared to be in a huge long cellar, barrels and barrels of fermenting wine lay in rows around him, so many it would take years to count them all. Walking through the dusty air almost made him sneeze but he managed to stop himself; not knowing how much dust would be disturbed if he did sneeze and Todd did not want to think about that.
He kept walking, ignoring his surroundings as he remembered what happened in the last... round. Then the end. The witch was very seductive and had killed the other woman with no effort... that kind of power made shivers run through his body and he licked his lips. There was no doubt he was attracted to her. Todd would succumb to his death by her hand if he didn't make it through this willing. To die by the hand of one so powerful would be an honor. However, his thoughts turned to the new goal.
There was a slight sound of moving earth in the corner, as though something was shuffling along.
Blades came out and Todd whirled to face the noise, artistically carved weapons out, one in each hand. "Who's there?" He called out, his voice sounding harsh in the musty air.
There was a whimpering from way closer to the ground. A small, young-looking dog stood at Todd's feet. Something was wrong with one of its legs-it was stiff and unable to bend, which caused it to shuffle. It sad in a strange way to accommodate that, its small tail wagging slowly and stirring up a bit of dust as it looked up at Todd. Its eyes seemed pure silver, like they had been replaced with a silver marble, and stitches ran along its body, interrupting its soft fur at odd parts.
Animal to animal, Todd dropped his weapons and held out his arms to it and he crooned deep in his throat to the sad thing. It was one of Todd's weaknesses to help an injured animal, no matter the kind. Unfortunatly, he still had his guard up from being in a confined space.
The puppy awkwardly stood, its tail wagging harder, and shuffled over to Todd, hopping slightly in happiness. He didn't look hurt, just like he had fallen into pieces and was stitched up too quickly. He also looked incredibly lonely.
Todd waited till it reached him before scratching it behind it's ears, eyeing the stitches in case his fingers accidently caught them. Poor thing looked absolutly miserable and the Oa's eyes softened as he gave the pup a full body rub down.
The puppy wriggled in happiness, its whole body wagging at this point. Suddenly, the dog hobbled off, its stiff leg dragging behind it. The dog began to paw at a step that, due to the lighting and its angle to the Oa, had been practically invisible before. The steps were too high for the lame puppy to climb up without help, but it was obviously excited about something, and patted the bottom one with a paw.
"Where does this lead?" Todd asked the puppy quietly, scooping it up in his arms and held it to his chest, still petting it, "You want to go up?"
The puppy responded happily to the attention, even if it did not understand the words. And it was not adverse to climbing the stairs; obviously, it thought the stairs were more fun than down in the wine cellar.
Todd climbed the stairs slowly and caustiously, reaching the end only to see a dark door. He fumbled for the doornob and finally put the puppy down beside him so he could look more efficiently.
He could manage to open the door with both hands, and it was heavy enough to probably require his full attention--plus, the hinges were beginning to rust. As the door slowly opened, the puppy bolted through the narrow opening. His stiff leg slowed him down, but his yapping was still becoming faint as the small dog traveled down the hallway. Todd could see from his position that they were in what looked to be a large hallway, possibly the main hallway of a very large house.
Glancing around quickly, Todd came to the conclusion that it was safe and listened to the puppy getting farther and farther away. Without another thought he quickly trotted after the thing without hesitation, looking this way and that as he passed doorways.
The puppy's barking ceased, and around the corner a man stood. He looked ordinary, if wearing thick glasses and sporting more-than-frizzy hair. He wore a long white coat down past his knees and stood frowning at the dog he held by the scruff of the neck with one hand. "I could have sworn I misplaced this," he said, the puppy whining.
The Oa skidded to a halt, pulling out one ornate stick, "Who are you?" Todd asked in a low voice, his dark blue eyes flickering from the pup to the man, "Are you... some sort of doctor?" He shifted around, finally settled his gaze on the eyes behind the glasses.
"Some sort of," the man replied. "I fix serious injuries like death." He put down the puppy, who didn't run away from the man but rather hobbled to greet Todd. "If I knew how to fix that leg I'd be a happy man," the guy murmured, taking out a small pair of forceps from his pocket and fumbling with it-a nervous habit. He peered at Todd for a minute, just staring at him like he was an alien. He wasn't even focused on the feathers or the odd dress, just Todd as a person.
Todd kneeled next to the young dog and scratched it again, though, his gaze never left the 'doctor'. Finally his curiousity over came his silence and he asked, slightly figiting under his stare, "If you can fix death, then why is a more simple injury out of your reach?"
"I am highly specialized," the doctor said. "Like the microbiologist who would name all the processes in the nucleus of the cell but blanks at what a cellular membrane is comprised of." He looked Todd over. "You're certainly not from around here," he said. "You seem to be... more... intact than our usual occupants."
"There are most likely a few of us here..." Todd did not go into what was happening, hell, he didn't know and he was a participant. The doctor would think he was crazy if he told him, so instead the Oa picked the puppy up gently, "If you are referring that everyone here has died, then yes, I am a bit unusual... I have a fairly good sense of self-preservation, which seems to be common with the other people here that are in my same situation."
"Very interesting," the doctor replied. "I wonder how you, much less multiple persons, achieved access." He shrugged. "Not really my nature to question. I simply fix things." He turned to go. "Not everybody here has died," he said. "Just the important ones, and maybe a few minor characters." He began walking down the hall, hands folded behind him as he strolled.
Todd hesitated. He seemed to be doing that a lot lately, "Wait." He called out, walking fast enough to catch up to the man with the pup still in his arms, "What is this place..? And... how did this dog end up like this?"
"The house isn't the safest place to be right now," the doctor replies, no hesitation in his voice whatsoever. He had absorbed the fact that Todd was a foreigner and continued walking forward. "During the transition from safe to unsafe, some thing didn't make it." He motioned to the puppy, who was obviously one of those things. The stitches made it look like the thing had been taken apart in pieces. "I fixed a few here. A few others didn't make it, but it's not like it was a major loss at that point."
"Can you tell me what happened?" Todd asked softly, putting the puppy down and continued following the unnamed doctor to... somewhere, "My name is Todd-" He grimaced, "-sir, may I have your name?"
"My name?" the doctor replied, surprised. He didn't look more than thirty, really, but his face adopted the slightly lost look of a much older man. "I seem to have misplaced it," he murmured. "Odd. Well... a lot of things changed," he said. "My name being missing should honestly be the least of my worries." He came to a door and tapped on it lightly, kicking a worn spot with his foot to make the knob work so he could jiggle it open.
"As for what happened," he continued, walking into what looked to be a very dusty laboratory, "I don't know for certain. It certain happened quickly enough. I assume it has something to do with that girl, seeing as how all of the things that reminded me of her existence went missing." He took a jar down and blew on it, dust flying everywhere, as he peered at the contents. "But I don't have much to go on besides speculation. I am only here by force, not choice, and did not care to keep up with any sort of drama."
"Girl? Someone that lived in this... house? Have you ever tried to leave?" Todd looked around while he waited for the man to answer, glancing into things with a sour look on his face and he wiped off some dust that had began to cling to his face with his scarf.
"Tried, failed," the doctor replied, stating fact. "This house is warped. The normal laws of nature no longer apply." The last part was said with a measure of bitterness, but judging from what had happened to the puppy Todd had been holding, he had adjusted.
"What's the story of this house?" Todd asked quietly, sweeping a finger along a shelf. Rubbing his fingers together, "What happened to this... girl?"
The house began to shake. "No time for that," the scientist sighed. "Seems as though the house is warping again." He pushed back a glass jar that had been rattling its way to the edge, used to this. "This place is probably pretty safe, unless too many jars break. Then we'll have to leave because of the formaldehyde fumes."
"Wait the wh-" Todd couldn't finish his statement because he had to cling to a wall, trying not to sneeze from the dust he caused to fly through the air. Sitting with his back to the wall, Todd caught the puppy and pulled him onto his lap, waiting for the earthquake-like sensation to end.
The doctor began pushing jars further back on shelves nonchalantly, humming a tune. "Usually, I'm kept pretty busy after these times," he said. "A lot of people have a tendency to show up at my door in numerous pieces."
"I... see." The Oa tried to ignore the continued shaking till it was over, "Do you think some people... don't make it to here?" Todd asked carefully.
"How would I know?" the doctor asked. "If I don't find them..." He caught a jar just as it fell. The shaking stopped at that point. "Ah," he said. "It's over." He looked at the door. "I think I'll wait to open that for a while," he said. "The house was shaking pretty hard. I don't really want to find something... too disturbing when I open that door."
"So this happens often...?" Todd asked just as the house quieted.
After a few minutes, the house shuddered as though finally resting. The puppy in Todd's arms twitched as it collapsed, no longer moving. "Ah, seems as though reality might be kicking in," the doctor murmured as mist rose around Todd, transporting him (without the puppy) to another place...
The remaining group members found themselves in a large study, with couches and shelves full of books. They could tell from the atmosphere alone that it was a new place, that they were no longer in the mansion. The Goddess reclined in a very comfortable-looking chair, regarding them with a sated gaze. "Now wasn't that fun?" she asked. "You all helped me fulfill a favor I owed." She looked around. "Oh, my. One, two, three, four... seems as though we are missing a few people." She put her finger to her chin, as though in deep contemplation.
When Todd locked his dark blue eyes on her his body stiffened, and he felt a fire light alight within him and had to fall back to lean on a bookcase to support himself. It was her. Bowing to her, he sent only humility and servitude her way.
Jiten looked up. The grave was gone. He knew he had been the one to finish the task, but he did not feel the rush of excitement he would have imagined at having won. All he felt was sorrow for the girl, along with a small sense of relief at having ended her misery. He hadn't even known her name, and he had been the one to bury her. He stared sadly at the Goddess, and collapsed resignedly onto the nearest couch.
Johnathan, still not saying much, just kind of stood and stared at the goddess. Yes, he had followed Jiten through that door, and yes, he had watched him bury the bones. But, for some reason, he was finding it difficult to be himself at the moment, even if they had fixed the problem. He sighed. "Damn." Then, he grinned.
"Wow! Ok..." said Skreeg, the table disappearing. He rolled to the side and got up, brushing off his pants.
"Now, hold on a moment," the Goddess said, reaching out and snagging a phone up that hadn't been there a minute before. She held it to her ear for a minute and then began talking. "Yes, yes, I was wondering if I could have one or two back," she said, her voice unusually chipper. "Oh, no, not the girl. You can keep that--actually, just... Yeah, just that one. Oh? You will? Thank you. ...no, this doesn't count as me owing you one. Oh, you insist? Well, then, I'll just take mine, you--Okay, glad you can see my point of view. Yeah, talk to you later." She hung up and looked off at another spot expectantly. A vortex of shadow rose from the floor and suddenly there stood Joshua, who had been dead-as-doornails not two minutes before. "Welcome back, enjoy the trip?" the Goddess purred.
Joshua slowly opened his eyes to find himself standing before the Goddess, along with all of the other contestants. Though Josh looked just the same as he died, if one looked closely enough they could see a change in his eyes; it no longer held much honor though Joshua's courage remained. Looking upon the Goddess, Josh smiled and replied back. "Thank you very much; the trip was to die for." Joshua turned to Johnathan and said with nothing but malice, "You should take that trip sometime, murderer." Still giving Johnathan the evil eye, Joshua finally turned his head back to the Goddess, bowing his head in thankfulness.
"Oh!" Johnathan bursted out a bark of laughter. "Yeah, um...sorry about that." He couldn't keep back a flow of chuckles as he gave Josh two thumbs up. 'There we are!' Johnathan thought to himself, 'Back to being me.' He didn't mind so much being called a murderer. It wasn't like that was a false statement. "Poor Duckie...." He said after a few moments of uncontained chuckles.
When Johnathan laughed in Joshua's face when he realized it was Johnathan who killed him, rage boiled up in Joshua. Reaching for his whip, Joshua aimed a snap right at Johnathan's face to get him to stop laughing.
Fortunatley, Johny stepped back just enough to just get a pop on the nose, which didn't feel quite too good. However, he still had on a quirky grin. "Hey hey, now, I said sorry. Didn't know that I was suppose to be saving you or anything." Actually, Johnathan had only done what the ghost girl had told him, Jiten just happened to be the only one he thought about grabbing.
"Wait a second..." said Skreeg holding out his arms. Then he pointed at Josh. "He died?"
"Obviously, he got better," the Goddess said, not really stepping in to interfere between the two quarreling as she stood but rather to walk over to Skreeg. "Although I did bring someone back from the dead... Don't you think it would be most fitting for me to send one other to that realm to even it all out?" She was talking directly to Skreeg, but before the mousey man could speak, her hand shot out and cradled Skreeg's jaw, lifting it up effortlessly. It wasn't enough to lift him totally off of the ground, but it was probably more than a little uncomfortable being grabbed by his jaw like that, especially when his heels were barely touching the floor. "When I watched you in this game, dearest," the Goddess said, her voice low, "I was very nearly bored. Do so try not to bore me again. I might not wait until the end of the round to eliminate you."
She released Skreeg, turning away from him. "Todd was just a smidgen less boring than you, Skreeg, and that's because he was holding a puppy," she sighed. "Puppies are always interesting." She walked in front of the contestants, running a finger along a few of Todd's feathers, and then ran a long nail along Johnathan's collarbone in a light caress. "Jiten was, of course, the winner of this round. However, there's another place we must visit. Don't disappoint me, boys," she purred, stopping right in front of Johnathan.
The mist crept up from the floor to swirl around their bodies, thickening until it became hard to breath and impossible to see, whisking the group away to a Carnival.
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