Harry wandered through the rows of glassy eyed human dolls, inspecting each one for an appropriate outfit. As it turns out, Six was positively thrilled by the idea of graverobbing. Well, not thrilled exactly, but she didn't raise any objections.

So now the two of them were searching for suitable garments. While there were plenty that would fit him, size wise, very few so far met the parameters needed. Those primarily being dull, dark colors that would aid in the life or death game known as hide and seek.

Harry and Six were always on the hide side of the game, therefore, they needed any advantage they could get to avoid the seekers. Harry did see a rather fetching red jacket, however it was almost startlingly bright. If he were to wear that around, he would be spotted immediately.

He looked over across the dimly lit room, seeing Six staring at an outfit with a contemplative look on her face. He couldn't see what she was looking at from his angle, but it was good that at least one of them found something. Now if only he could do the same.

But he couldn't shake the feelings of guilt that gnawed at him as he stared at the clothes clinging to the hollowed out corpses of former humans. He shivered at the unseeing eyes, accusing him of crimes he has yet to commit.

Even though it was his idea, he still balked at the notion of robbing the dead. Six tried to make him feel better by calling it recycling, but it didn't have the effect she thought it would.

But he appreciated the effort, as morbid as it was.

But now wasn't the time to be squeamish. Neither of them could afford the luxury of dallying around here. Not that he would want to, considering the current occupants. They made for lousy conversationalists.

Harry sighed as he walked past another unsuitable outfit. He was on the last row now and was running out of options. It wasn't like he didn't want to find something decent to wear, but this was the closest thing to shopping he's ever done, and he wanted to choose the perfect ensemble.

Too bad their selection left much to be desired. At this rate, he may just have to pick something less than preferable. Even if that were to be the case, he wasn't leaving without some kind of new clothing.

Thankfully, it seemed as if his luck wasn't completely hopeless, just nearly. The body before the last was wearing something he deemed suitable. A dark green shirt with a jacket over top the same color of brown as a dresser. That should help greatly in his stealth attempts.

The young boy's lower body was covered by a dusky, tan colored pair of shorts. There was, of course, one thing the corpse was missing. One thing they were all missing, in fact. Or perhaps, saying they were missing two things would be more accurate.

And that would be shoes. Not a single one of them wore even one shoe, let alone a pair of them. It was utter madness! How could a room filled with dozens of bodies not contain even one shoe!?

Harry sighed in contempt, rubbing his temples in frustration. He did his best to let go of his irritation, but it was proving difficult. He really wanted a pair of shoes, but it seems he was destined to go without, at least for the time being.

That didn't mean he was giving up on the notion. Far from it. Harry was determined to beat the odds and acquire shoes someday, no matter what it took.

"So, did you find something?" asked a somewhat lifeless voice to his left. Harry turned and saw none other than Six, her near emotionless eyes holding a curious edge to them.

"Yeah, I think so. What about you?" he asked back. She nodded in response, not wanting to say anymore. And not really needing to either. While she agreed to swapping their clothes with one of the dead, that doesn't mean she was exactly happy about it either.

Her joking with Harry earlier was just as much for her benefit as it was for his. She knew the necessity of survival was more important than any moral quandaries their little bit of desecration would give rise to, but it was still distasteful.

Her gaze shifted to the clothing her friend had selected to take, and she nodded her head in satisfaction. The colors would help him blend in well with the environment of The Nest.

"Alright. I guess we should get changed then," Harry said. Six once again nodded in agreement, as she began to make her way back toward her chosen outfit. But before she got too far, she stopped and turned around, leveling Harry with a mild glare.

"Oh, and by the way, don't you dare try and peek," she said, before continuing on her way. Harry could only stare after her in confusion.

Why would he want to look at her as she was changing? Did she think he wanted to see her underwear or something? Why would he want to see that?

His only conclusion was that girls are weird. Some mysteries are best left unsolved.

He turned his attention back to his new clothing and began the distasteful act of removing it from its former owner. He carefully peeled the garments from the body of the boy, trying not to look into his accusatory eyes.

As the shirt came off, Harry felt that familiar sensation of vomit wanting to escape from his stomach, but he managed to hold it in. He didn't want to get on Six's bad side for losing more of her dinner.

The reason for his new bout of nausea was the patchwork skin of the human doll in front of him. It was one thing to see it on the face, but the torso was something else entirely.

It was far less delicately done than the head for one, and he could see the insides through the uneven stitches. Cotton, like a stuffed toy. I made it more than obvious they were now dolls.

The skin was rough and bumpy, with hanging, floppy bits of flesh here and there. Some parts also seemed to be rotting, while others appeared to have been chewed on. It was clear there was little care to be done for the parts that wouldn't be normally seen.

Thankfully, with his insides being replaced with fluff, there weren't any innards to leak and seep into the clothing. So that was good. But it was still unpleasant to look at.

Harry quickly removed the last of the clothing, rendering the doll naked. He shivered again, realizing the boy was missing something rather important for a boy. Guess dolls didn't need the restroom, so it didn't need that either.

Not wanting to see it for longer than he had to, Harry removed his own clothes as well, making sure to take out his flashlight and the medallion Six threw at him first. It wouldn't do to leave those behind.

Before he knew it he was dressed in a set of relatively clean and comfortable clothing. Not only that, but it was far warmer than his old clothes as well, which was also a plus. If he got too warm, all he needed to do was remove the jacket.

Once he was fully garbed, he turned his attention to the corpse baring it all to him. He frowned, and his gaze shifted to the pile of dirty clothes he just removed from himself. Well, it's not like he needed it anymore…

And it would also help hide the fact that they pilfered the clothes in the first place. The Residents may not be too smart, according to Six, but there was no reason they should tip them off that something is amiss, lest they have another incident like with the dresser.

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Better safe than sorry.

So that's what he did. He reclothed the human doll in front of him, as unpleasant as it was. He really hoped he wouldn't have to swap clothes anytime soon. And if he did need new clothes again, please let it not be from the corpses of children.

Once he was done he made to look toward Six to see if she was done as well. But before he did, he remembered her warning, and he shivered involuntarily for some reason. Right, it was probably best to use words instead of eyes to check.

"Hey Six, you done yet?" Harry asked out loud, eyes scanning the parts of the room that didn't contain Six in them.

"Almost," she replied. He could hear shuffling from behind him, and he wondered what she was doing.

"Alright, done," he heard her call out. Figuring he was in the clear, Harry turned around and was greeted with the sight of his, thankfully, clothed companion.

She was now dressed in a dark gray cardigan that was so long it looked like a dress on her. Beneath that was an even darker gray shirt, and he could see the hints of white shorts hidden underneath.

And no shoes.

It was a decent step up from the dirty, of white shirt she wore before, and the gray would help her blend in better with the shadows. It also seemed like she had the same idea as him and placed her old clothes upon the doll she stole her new outfit from.

"Looks good. So, now what?" asked Harry as he approached the ruby-eyed girl. He stopped and stared at her handiwork, before quickly looking away. No point in dwelling on what's already been done.

"Let's see. We need three things. First is the fuse that goes to the lift. Without that, we may be stuck on this floor. Second is the key to the chest upstairs. I don't know what's in it, but I'm sure it'll be useful. And third, we need to find the machine that the medallion goes into. Those are our immediate concerns," she stated, giving him a determined stare.

Harry nodded, "Alright, I guess we should start with the other side of the hallway then."

Six agreed and the two of them began to make their way out of the room, but not before turning the projector off, and leaving the remote where they could find it.

Before leaving the relative safety of the cinema cemetery, Six stopped just shy of exiting and looked both ways, like she was about to cross a busy street. Seeing as there was nothing, she carefully made her way into the hall, with Harry hot on her heels.

Making a right turn, the duo made their way down the hall, with both ignoring the nasty pile of bile under a table. No need to open up those memories just yet. Maybe years later, if they ever escaped this place, he could revisit it in therapy, but now was not the time.

The pair reached the end of the hall, and the path split into two directions: left and right. To the right was a single door, and a dead end, with one of those creepy paintings hanging over a table with a surprisingly nice-looking plant resting on top.

The left path held two doors, one near the center and the other towards the end of the hall. This way too led to a dead end, but unlike the right path, this one was blocked by debris.

It looked as if someone, or something, grabbed a bunch of broken things: chairs, tables, lamps, etc. and just shoved them into a nice, disorderly pile to block the way forward.

Six frowned at this, looking all around the heaping pile of scrap to see if there was any way around it, but to her frustration, there appeared to be none. At least, none that she could see.

So that way was out, that just leaves the doors. She pointed to the one on the right, indicating they should try that one first, and Harry gave her a nod of understanding. The two quietly crept over to the door, staying on the carpet and trying to remain as silent as they could. Just because there wasn't anything currently on this floor threatening them, doesn't mean they should be careless, or develop bad habits.

As they stood in front of the door, Six made a gesture that she would be the one to check the handle. Harry shrugged, and assumed the position, and flung Six upward. She grabbed onto the handle, but to her disappointment, it held fast. She tried to jerk the handle down, using her weight, but it refused to budge.

Dropping down, Six shook her head at Harry, and he let out a sigh of frustration of his own. The two then went to the next door, with Harry being the one to check this time, only to be letdown as well. The door was also locked and refused them entry.

They then approached the final door, but this one was a bit different from the others. Pretty much every door looked relatively the same, with a similarly warped appearance, crooked installation, and of course, the big, carved eye that was just off center, watching everything they did.

The only difference between them was the amount of warping in the wood, the amount of decay they possessed, or the amount of filth coating it. But this door in front of them was completely different.

The first was that the wood was neither warped or decayed, and appeared as if the people who put it there actually knew what they were doing. Second was the color. All the other doors just looked wooden, with various amounts of dirt and grime being their only source of color, but this one was bright pink.

It made Six's eyes sore just looking at it.

The last thing was the distinct lack of an eye. There was still a craving, but instead of it being the usual eye, it was instead a mask of some kind. One that was completely devoid of ornamentation. Just a smooth, blank face staring at them. Unlike the rest of the door, the mask was painted a chalk white, making it stand out that much more.

If Harry was being honest, he preferred the eye. There was just something unsettling about the mask. He turned to Six to see her staring intently at it, completely enthralled.

"Hey, Six? You good?" he questioned with a whisper, nudging her slightly. That seemed to snap her out of whatever trance she was in, and she looked at him with confusion.

"Yeah, I'm fine," she whispered back. He looked at her for a second, before nodding his head, turning back to the door. Six was glad he didn't push the issue, as she herself was unsure of the attraction she felt towards the carving.

There was just something about it that called to her, like a siren singing out across the ocean. She didn't know what connection she had to the mask, but she doubted it was anything good.

"So, any idea why this door is so different?" Harry asked. Six shook the thoughts from her head and concentrated on the here and now. She needed to stay focused, lest her distraction lead them to ruin.

"Yeah. Pretty sure this is The Pretender's room," she said.

"Pretty sure?" asked Harry. Six shrugged in response. "It's been a while."

Harry couldn't exactly argue with that, especially knowing what effect The Nowhere had on people's psyche. She likely didn't remember all the details, and even then, the details may have changed since then.

"Well, if it is, then we have another goal for this floor, don't we?" he suggested.

"Seems like it," Six responded. The two stood there in silence for a bit, before Six released a sigh.

"Alright, lift me up. Let's see if this door is locked too," she said. Much to her chagrin, it was indeed locked, just like all the others.

"Of course," she grumbled, after landing back onto the floor. Harry watched as she glared at the door like it just killed her dog. He found it slightly amusing that she would hold such vitriol for a door.

Not that he had any intention of telling her that.

"So, that was a bust. Now what?" he asked. Six kept grumbling for a bit, before releasing another long, exasperated sigh. She then turned to Harry with regret flashing in her eyes.

"Remember, back in… that room? Near the ceiling? Right before the incident," she said. Harry frowned, trying to think about what she was hinting at and not wanting to remember that room at all.

He tried to think back, to right before he touched the circle. But it was hard to separate the empty room from before to the one filled with the dying screams of tortured children. His mind was a whirl as he went backwards in time once again, and the memory sprung forth.

"The vent!" he gasped, louder than what he intended. That must be what she was talking about. And Six confirmed his exclamation with a firm, yet concerned nod.

"Right, the vent. I don't see any other way forward. If it's too much, I can go alone," she offered, and Harry's eyes widened at the suggestion. The fear of Six abandoning him rushed forward from the depths of his being.

"No!" he nearly shouted, causing Six to frown. Harry quickly regained control of himself, as he steadied his breathing. Six was his friend, she wouldn't leave him in this place, she wouldn't abandon him.

"I mean, no. I can handle it, I promise. We're in this together, aren't we?" he said, calmly.

Six gave him a look before a small smile graced her face, "Yeah, together."

The two shared a moment of peaceful quiet before it was time to continue on. As they backtracked through the halls, Harry could swear the paintings were watching him. Or, the ones with faces were, at least. Mocking his fear with jeering eyes.

But Harry wouldn't let it get to him. His fear would hold no dominion over him. He would face that room once more, and conquer the nightmares before they even began.

Before long, the two of them were once more in front of the room with the cages. If he thought it was dark before, then he didn't know what dark was. The foreboding wafting out from the shadows made it all the blacker, threatening to consume his very being. He could almost hear the screaming coming from within.

"Ready?" Six asked, looking at him from the corner of her eye. While she didn't hold the same trepidation as her companion about the room, that didn't mean she wasn't wary of it. She didn't doubt his words in the least, and wasn't eager to return.

And she knew he wasn't either.

Taking one last, deep breath, Harry gave her a look filled with more confidence than he truly felt. "Ready."