The candles. A strange idea came to me through the static. I picked one up and continued forward. Nothing. The door was still paradoxically stuck at the end of the hallway.
Another idea came to me. One I really didn't want to do. A better idea would've been to leave. I was too tense and fraught to think about that one. I blew out the candle, and, as if on demonic cue, all the other candles went out as well. Complete stygian darkness. The idea of going back now in that dark was one that could go to hell.
I took one step. Just one. I bumped into something hard and made of wood. I fumbled for the knob, found it, turned it, thank you very much, but enough is enough and please let this be the end.
Light. That was a good sign. But it was another room. Whatever hope I had deflated.
The... fourth room?
The lights were a depressing shade of blue, in complete contrast to the red haze back in Room #1. It seemed like child's play compared to now. I noticed that the walls seemed to tilt inwards, forming the room into the shape of a pyramid. Yet the place more resembled an asylum or hospital than an Egyptian tomb.
Everywhere were splintery, oblong tables with either leather or iron cuffs attached to them. Next to these were smaller, metal tables with an assortment of glinting medical tools. They shined blue.
None of these things, of course, compared to the central focus of this room, which was the cloaked person who was hung in the dead center of the room with rope. Just a prop, yes. Just a prop. Move along now, just a prop. I didn't just see it twitch, that must've been my mind playing tricks on me--
There was no door.
It wasn't on the north, south, west, or east of this room; there was no door. My heart lurched. Dread was gone. Fear. An arctic cold chill embraced me; I was very afraid.
Then, quite literally, a glimmer of hope. A shiny chrome vent in the far corner. It came off easily. Fake metal. I crawled in, degrading back to the primal stance of man thousands upon thousands of years ago. It was arduous, long, dark, and cold. Was it closing in on me, suffocating me of my life? I couldn't tell. I reached the other side. The fifth room, I think.
It was a lot smaller than the other ones, which surprised me. The only thing here was a ladder in the exact center going up into a hole in the ceiling. I began climbing up.
I went up, up, up, heading towards what I guessed could only be the attic. Who knows. I looked back down. There was only a small circle of light down there. I continued climbing up the longest ladder ever built.
A horrible thought came over me. What if this was another paradox? An endless ladder? It sure as hell didn't lead to heaven.
The thought was quickly shot down anyways when my head collided against a trapdoor, nearly making me lose my footing. At the height I was at, I would've at the very least broken one of my legs. Worst case scenario, I wouldn't be able to climb back up the ladder. Crawling back through that vent was a thought I really didn't want to spend time on.
I messed around with the latch and crawled up into the sixth room. It looked like a library, with its long, wooden L-shaped desk and bookshelves with dusty spines which had foreign languages written on them. A mannequin stood behind the desk, gazing vacantly at nothing. I thought of the woman at Brandon's Fort. That stare, nearly unblinking, focusing on absolutely nothing.
I walked over to the end of the room. There was a dusty mirror there with a note attached to the bottom. It read in red pen: "If you're reading this, you are a brave individual who is strong in both mind and body. Be assured that you will not go to waste."
Not go to waste? What? Then more thoughts--or rather, questions,--rushed in. What is all of this? Why? Where is the door? I don't see it. Do I have to crawl through another vent? I'll do it, you know. Just please let me out. I really want to go home. I--
I saw it in the mirror. Two horribly familiar emerald eyes. I had seen them, elsewhere, some other time. It was the patriarchal force of Lotus House, Mister Lotus.
"I'm sorry for this."
The last thing I ever heard. Shadow hands closed over my mouth and eyes. And they tore my mind apart.
Just as he'd promised, Ted had been waiting for me at the car. "I" got into the drivers seat and started the car. I caught a glimpse of my own vacant stare in the rearview mirror. Just like the woman working the late shift.
"How was it in there?" Ted timidly asked.
I wanted to tell him everything. Badly. And I tried. I really did. But free will was no longer an option. I couldn't even blink.
"It was good." Oh God, Ted, please notice something. There's something very, very wrong with me. I can't move. I can't scream. I'm talking, but it's not me. I want to cry. I can't.
"Oh... okay, then. Let's... let's go, man. I just wanna go to sleep."
Someone help me.
Mr. Locus took out the flashing, pulsing orb of light. The kid's essence. He felt bad. Everytime he did it, he felt as though he'd committed a heinous crime. But the ends justified the means, right?
He looked over at her daughter. Oh, poor Joyce. Atleast she could move her left leg now. He needed the sharpest, most focused essence. Not just any would do. Last time he tried an ordinary person, it had given her a seizure. He couldn't risk another incident like that.
She would look at him horrified each time he brought her another essence. She knew what he'd done. But hopefully she would one day understand it was because he loved her very much.
He pushed the essence into her forehead. It brightened, once, twice, and died out.
"Try moving, Joyce."
She could now move her right leg. This would take awhile. He knew that from the very beginning. He could only draw enough energy to do this on Halloween. He would have to wait until next Halloween. But he loved her very much.
"One day, Joyce, sweetheart," he said, more to himself than to her.
"One day."
