Going through the large open doorway, what greeted me was an expansive living room. The fancy furniture gave the place a tasteful, classical style. Another chandelier, this one much bigger and seemingly made of crystal, hung high above. Directly ahead, behind open double doors, was another smaller room, possibly an entrance hall.

The room faintly smelled of aged wood and ash. As I searched for a phone, my gaze flicked to the paintings on the walls. They all depicted the same person: a stoic-looking, black-haired man, perhaps in his forties or fifties. "Is that the psycho who abducted me?" I wondered.

Crossing the salon, I arrived at the entrance hall. On either side were big sweeping double staircases, curving upwards and meeting at a balcony on the second floor of the manor. Ahead was the exit of the house. The glass around the front door showed the outside, but the windows were all shut, covered by curtains. By the brightness outside, it was almost dusk now.

"Okay. Should I get the heck away now, or should I go up?"

Some things to consider: I still looked like a psycho prisoner who was not allowed within five hundred meters of a school. Furthermore, this house seemed to be abandoned, and, looking outside, I didn't see any signs of civilization. Wherever I was, it was probably isolated or in some sort of super-rich gated community. Leaving without a plan might get me caught, and that couldn't happen — not after what I witnessed down there.

I should at least check the second floor, though. If I didn't find any means of communication up there, I'd have to leave anyway.

Decided, I climbed up the luxurious staircase slowly, careful to avoid making too much noise. Those cuffs at my ankles were extremely annoying and not exactly the best for stealth. Upon arriving at the balcony on the second floor, I took a measure of the area. A wide corridor stretched forward, with doors to either side and one in the center. I went directly to the one in the middle.

The knob was cold to the touch, and the door was reddish-brown. It led me to a room with a sizable table made of dark wood, furnished in the same classic style as the rest of the house. One detail stood out, however: the room was messier. Still clean, but definitely not as neat as the rest of the first floor. Maybe whoever lived here did not want the staff coming up all the time, or perhaps this place had simply seen more use. On the far wall stood another door, crafted from the same dark, intricate wood as the rest of the furniture.

To my right, at the center of the right wall, stood a big fancy chiming clock. It directly faced the table, but the intriguing part was that I didn't recognize most of the numbers. Only the first three made any sense as they were simple lines (I, II, III) but the rest... That was mildly concerning. Maybe it's one of those stylish clocks made for decoration? They were more common than people thought — I once had a clock in my kitchen that had different pictures of birds instead of numbers... (My grandma was into birdwatching and all the eccentricities that hobby entailed).

Anyhow, considering that this clock still had 12 symbols and two hands, it wasn't that weird.

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After a cursory inspection, I tried to open the other door in the room. Unfortunately, it was locked.

Hmm, interesting. If I wasn't mistaken, this was the first locked door I’d come across in this whole house. Not even the cells down in the basement were properly sealed shut. Was someone inside? I didn't think so.

"Screw it, I’m going in".

No, actually... I should check the other rooms on this floor and make sure no one’s home first. Stepping back into the corridor, I peeked inside each of the remaining suites. Both were very similar with only one bed, a wardrobe, and a simple desk.

"Okay, clear," I said to myself.

Heading back to the meeting room, I approached the locked door and eyed it thoughtfully. Urgh, what is it with me and locks today?

Seriously, this was the third one just today. Oh, and let's not forget that the first locked door basically KILLED me.

After a few good kicks, the door burst open with a loud "BAM!" and I promptly entered the room.

"Oh well, would you look at that!" I exclaimed. For once, this bedroom actually looked lived-in.

The other two rooms on this floor were desolate. Not abandoned, just empty, as if no one had ever used them.

In my opinion, that was another interesting piece of evidence. So far, everything pointed to this manor being a cover-up. The only areas that showed any signs of usage in the entire house were these two rooms up here and the kitchen downstairs.

Pacing around, I noticed the strewn clothes near the cabinet, the fancy big bed with silk sheets, the single empty bookshelf (no secret passage this time), the small window, and the hardwood desk with three drawers. Oooh, don't mind if I do.

The first compartment was full of notes and letters, written in a code or in some weird, unknown language. Useless.

The second one held... jewelry apparently? A single amulet, with a beautiful big blue stone that delicately hung from a golden chain. The gem shimmered with an almost magical allure. Touching it, I felt a soft, sudden prickle in my mind that quickly disappeared. Weird.

Glancing around in confusion, my eyes landed on a piece of paper in the first drawer. It said— Wait... I could read it!? What? How? Since when? Unclasping the amulet and looking back at the notes, I gasped: they were back to being gibberish. I clasped and unclasped the amulet repeatedly, watching as the letters shifted from familiar words to complete nonsense in my mind. Impossible.

Stunned, I looked at the rest of the room while holding the blue gem directly. Nothing else was different. Doubling back to the meeting room with the big chiming clock, I looked at its numbers. Wait, numbers!? Dropping the necklace to the ground and not averting my eyes from the clock, I witnessed the exact moment the symbols stopped making any sense in my mind, almost like magic.

So... this was a magical amulet. Yeah, of course! That made sense!

.

.

.

NO. Nononono. What? What is happening to me? Am I dreaming? Hallucinating? Am I in a coma? Some type of mental illness?

Panicking, I sank to the ground. I was shaking and shivering. Where was I? What was this place? What had really happened after I'd been stabbed? What was that stitched-up shell of a person I encountered down there? What...

My head spun and my stomach churned. I tried getting up using the table as a handhold, but my legs did not work properly. My knees buckled and I couldn't breathe. Cold sweat trickled down my temples.

I need to recompose myself, I thought. They will kill me if I stay here. No. Dying was not the worst that could happen. They will take me apart, torture me. They will turn me into that... that thing.

With shaky legs, I forced myself to stand and frantically scanned the meeting room once more. “No. No,” I whispered, “not me.” I picked up the blue amulet from the ground, feeling that tiny prickle in my mind again, and headed back to the bedroom.

After that last drawer, I’m getting the hell away from here.