Harry yawned as he and Six stood in front of the opened vent. He was beyond tired at this point, having had his sleep interrupted by whatever that thing was, and as much as he would like to just curl up somewhere and pass out, that wasn't really on the table.

For one thing, there wasn't anywhere safe nearby. Their only place of refuge had been destroyed, and without that, there was no place to sleep. Not safely at any rate, even if it turned out the drawer wasn't as safe as they thought.

But that was only because they left a drawer open. If it hadn't been for that they would have been fine.

Probably.

Honestly, there was no way of knowing for sure, but Six had experience in these things that Harry did not, and that experience told her dressers were a safe place to buckle down for the night. One of the safest in fact, as last night had been the first time she's ever had to deal with something like that.

The other reason they couldn't afford to sleep here was the noise they made. The monster's loud attempts to get them, and the subsequent falling it did as a consequence of those attempts, may attract something else. So it was best they move now, while they still could.

Harry understood these reasons, he really did, but that doesn't mean he has to like them. His body ached and demanded rest, rest he couldn't afford to give it, not if he wanted to stay alive.

Six watched him yawn, trying to keep herself from doing the same. She wanted to rest as much as he did, but she knew they couldn't do that. It was possible that nothing else would show up, but that seemed unlikely.

They weren't expecting that monster to show up after all, but it did. And now she was tired and grumpy. Six really hated being woken up early. If she could sleep until noon every single day, she would gladly do it.

That, however, was a luxury she simply could not afford. Shacks and hovels were more in line with her price range.

"You ready?" she asked, as Harry stopped yawning and tried to rub the sleep from his eyes. He gave her an unconvincing nod, "Mhm."

Good enough. With that Six entered the ventilation system, pulling out her little zippo lighter and using it to light their way. She did her best to avoid the sludge left behind by that thing, but it wasn't easy. It was absolutely everywhere.

There was also the fact that it could fit inside the vents in the first place. That was another cause for alarm. Normally, the vents were relatively safe, as the Residents couldn't get inside.

Sure The Craftsman could reach inside with his long arms and The Butler could use his powers to grab them, but for the most part, vents equaled safety.

Not anymore. It seems like they would have to worry about more than rats in these metal tunnels. Wasn't that a pleasant thought?

Harry watched his friend ahead of him, also trying to avoid the black, sticky yet slippery, goo. He grimaced as his foot landed in a fairly thick spot of it, shivering at the feeling. He really wished they had shoes. This stuff couldn't be good for the cuts and scrapes on the bottom of their feet.

That's all they needed, to get some kind of weird infection.

They continued at a slow and steady pace trying to keep the noise to a minimum. Even Monsters needed their sleep, so it was best not to wake them. It made him wonder why they didn't just sneak around at night.

"Just because the Residents are asleep, doesn't mean everything is. And they tend to be harder to avoid," said Six when he asked her about it. That made Harry pause for a moment, recalling the moth that couldn't stand the sun. He quivered just thinking about a whole house full of those things.

So nighttime could be even more dangerous that the day, because the threats were less known. A giant monster was easy to spot, but a flying moth in the dark?

Well, he knew which one he would choose.

"So, have you ever been to The Pretender's room before?" asked Harry as they continued through the vents. It was much longer than he thought, with several twists and turns, interspaced with a few dead ends. Thankfully, they just had to follow the goo, made it easier to not get lost.

Whether or not that was a good idea was another matter entirely.

"Once. I try to avoid their domains as much as I can, since that's a good way to get yourself killed, but if we want to get out of here, I don't think there's much choice," she answered.

Harry nodded, though she couldn't see it. Avoiding the spots that were most likely to have something in it that wanted to kill you? Makes perfect sense to him.

Eventually, they were able to see a faint light through the darkness. It looked like the end was near. Good, because Harry was starting to get tired of stepping in the slime. He was just glad he wasn't claustrophobic. Years spent in a small cupboard under the stairs desensitized him to the feeling. Heck, it was almost welcomed at this point.

Especially with the world he was in right now.

The two of them reached the end, and Six shut off her light. She stared down into the room in front of her. Well, not a room per say, more like a long hallway.

The wooden floor was covered by a dirty old, yellow rug, with intricate patterns woven into it, with the main motif being that of an eye. Not surprising. It also seemed to stretch the whole length of the hall, at least as far as she could see.

On top of the rug was a familiar trail of black sludge, leading down another hallway to the left. Six wasn't sure if it was a good idea to follow the trail, considering that's most likely where the monster came from, but at the same time, she at least knew the monster wasn't there.

The bare, plastered walls were covered with a light brown and beige wallpaper, alternating in color forming vertical stripes. Triangle patterns, unevenly dispersed along the stripes, using the opposite one's color, formed a nauseating contrast.

All along the wall were clocks, some attached to the wall, others standing on their own. None of them seemed to be set to the same time, as the constant ticking they produced was out of sync to all the rest, creating a cacophony of unpleasantness.

Numerous paintings were interspersed among the clocks, but from this angle and distance, Six was unable to make out most of them, and the ones she could were as disturbing as usual.

Odd creatures and odd places, mixed in with images of children. She knew for some reason they liked to hang paintings of the kids they turn into dolls on the walls. She didn't know why, but it made her stomach churn whenever she saw them. She was just glad there was no one she knew, at least as far as she could see.

Whenever she saw a painting, Six tended to look away and not dwell on it. Sure, she didn't know many kids in this place, and was only ever close to one before, but she still didn't like to see a familiar face on the wall, knowing at any moment, it could be her face next to it.

Below the paintings and set between the large, grandfather clocks were numerous tables or dressers with various nick knacks or clocks on them. She didn't understand why they needed so many clocks. Whoever their interior decorator was did a poor job.

Looking directly below her, she could see a small end table with a dirty, white embroidered cover and a small picture frame. It was just tall enough that they could jump down without risk of injury. She turned back to her friend, before asking him once more.

"You ready?"

He gave her a determined nod, eyes resolved to see this through, no matter what. "As I'll ever be."

Six nodded back before she carefully jumped down onto the table. She landed with a soft thump, nearly slipping from the sludge coating her feet. Thankfully, she was able to keep her balance.

Looking out across the hallway for any sign that something heard her, she was relieved when nothing did. Considering how loud the clocks were, she doubted anything would, but caution was always the better part of valor.

Seeing that nothing was trying to kill her, she signaled to Harry to join her. "Careful not to slip," she warned. Looking over the edge of the vent, Harry stared down at his landing zone with mild trepidation. It wasn't that it was very far down that had him nervous, it was more like nerves from entering somewhere new.

Who knows what would be waiting for them right around the corner. Considering all the things he's seen so far, and on the first day no less, he wasn't eager to see what else dwelt in this place.

But there was nothing to be done about it. If he stayed still, he would surely die. The only thing he could do to stay alive was move forward. With that in mind, Harry took a breath, and leaped down onto the table.

He landed next to Six, with a slightly louder thump. You'd think with his smaller and lighter frame he would make less noise, but it turns out experience trumps simple things like logic and possibly physics.

Not only that, but Harry also slipped as he landed, falling painfully on his rear.

Ow…" he complained from his back. And after he was warned too.

Six looked at him with a mixture of worry and amusement. "You ok?" she asked, holding out a hand for him to grasp. Harry sighed, disappointed in himself for being so clumsy. But to be fair, it wasn't entirely his fault. That goo was just so slick! He had no idea how Six managed to keep herself from falling.

"Yeah, thanks," he mumbled to himself, embarrassed by his slip up. He grabbed her hand and Six helped him to his feet.

"I did warn you," Six said.

"Knowing about it and stopping it are two different things," Harry explained, trying to ignore the small bit of mirth he could see in her eyes. He was glad she was amused, he just wished it didn't have to come at his expense.

Looking away from her to avoid the laughter in her eyes, Harry was surprised to see a familiar face. Seeing her friend's body lock up, she turned to see what had him so freaked out, before her own eyes widened in surprise.

In the picture frame on the table was none other than The Ferryman. He was sitting in what looked like a rowboat in choppy water, two paddles on either side, with the sunset in the background.

The two of them stared at the photo for a bit, not saying a thing. There was the monster that lured them into this place, using fake words and empty hope. What a cruel creature he turned out to be.

But the worst part was not knowing why. Why were they chosen? For what purpose? Those thoughts swelled in their heads as they stared at the small portrait.

Six finally managed to turn away. "Come on," she urged her companion. It took Harry a few more seconds, his attempts to burn a hole into it with his glare proving fruitless, but he finally relented.

Looking over at Six, he managed a small smile, reassuring her that he was alright. She nodded in acceptance, before she jumped down onto the scratchy rug, its texture uncomfortable on her feet.

She turned to look back at Harry, telling him in a teasing voice, "Remember, don't slip."

Harry rolled his eyes at that, but there was a slight grin on his face. He jumped down, managing to stay on his feet this time. He turned to his friend, throwing his arms out wide, "Ta-da."

Six gave him a small, semi mocking clap as she praised him, "Wow, good job."

"Thank you, thank you, I'll be here all week," Harry said, mirth dancing in his eyes. The two of them chuckled a bit, before looking out into the hall.

"Well, let's get started, shall we," said Harry. Six nodded in agreement, and the two of them began to walk further into the hall, eyes watching every shadow for movement. They didn't want to be caught off guard again.

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"Try to stay on the rug. It helps mask the floor squeaks," she advised. She's seen more than once how a simple squeaky board could spell someone's doom. She didn't want it to be them.

"Right," Harry acknowledged. That was just fine with him, the less noise they made the better in his opinion. It was just too bad that the rugs were covered in the black sludge, so they had to walk along the edges, one on either side.

The pair made their way down the hall, coming to the path leading to the left. Staring down it, they could see the goop on the floor leading to a room on the left, with the door slightly ajar. Opposite that was another door, though this one was closed.

Deciding to check the rest of this hall first, they continued on to the dead end. It was a closed elevator door, leading to who knows where. Six frowned as she stared at it, noticing the light on top of the elevator wasn't on.

It had no power.

Six sighed in irritation. Taking an elevator wasn't usually the best idea, since it was loud, and you never knew who could be waiting on the other side, but having the option, especially if you needed to escape something, was always good.

"Something wrong?" whispered Harry. Six gave him a look, before pointing to the top of the elevator, "There's no light, see? It means there's no power, we can't go this way, not unless we restore its power."

"So, how do we do that?" Harry asked. Six looked around the elevator for a moment, before spotting a small panel, "There," she said, indicating the spot to Harry, "It's missing a fuse. If we want to take this down, we need to find one."

Harry nodded. He understood what she said, and it made sense from a technical viewpoint. No fuse, no power. Simple enough. But why would there be no fuse? Wouldn't that make it hard to navigate the mansion if the elevator didn't work?

When he asked Six that very same question, she just shrugged. "There's a lot about this place that doesn't make sense. This isn't the only elevator either. Each one seems to be connected to only two floors."

That made even less sense. Who would design a house like this? He could understand an elevator if the house was big enough, that made sense, but to have several only connected to a pair of floors?

Why?

Thinking about the ways this world functioned always seemed to give him a headache. Best to ignore it and move on, like always. At the very least, they knew what they needed to do to leave this floor.

"I guess we should start looking," Harry said, with Six agreeing. The two of them backtracked to the fork in the hall, heading for the room the monster appeared to come from.

As they did, Harry got a good look at all the paintings on the wall. Six explained the pictures of kids when he asked, which made him shudder in revulsion. What kind of absolute psychopath keeps photos of their victims? No, not photos, full on portraits. It was just sick.

And then there were the other pictures as well. Some of them were locations, and Six pointed to one in particular, "That one there, that's The Nest."

Harry stared at it perplexed. It was indeed a massive mansion on a cliff, but the cliff itself was far too small to support anything. The base of it was tiny compared to the summit, which expanded outward for who knows how far exactly.

There was no possible way it should have been able to hold up the island itself, let alone anything on top of it. One fierce wave could knock the whole thing over. It made Harry want to escape even more now.

And Six was no help in alleviating his worries either, as she didn't know either. But considering she's lived here for months already; she wasn't too concerned about it sinking into the ocean.

But Harry very much was, and his nervous freakout concerning it seemed to be a source of further amusement for Six.

But it wasn't just kids and locations the portraits portrayed. There were also other Residents. Horrible, disfigured images of near human faces greeted him at every turn. It was nauseating.

One woman had a face with wide eyes that seemed to be unable to blink. Like she had no eyelids. Her mouth was far too wide as well, reminding Harry of The Leecher. Her hair looked greasy and wild, like she never took care of it.

Which she probably didn't. Harry wouldn't be surprised if the things here didn't know what a bath was. She actually reminded him of his old teacher, before she went missing. No one knew what happened to her…

Not that he missed her. Far from it in fact. She was the type of person who enjoyed disciplining anyone she considered a troublemaker, and Harry just so happened to be at the top of her list. Like she was Santa Claus, but instead of giving the 'bad kids' coal, she just smacked them good with a ruler.

The fact that she adored his cousin sure didn't endear her to Harry. Her going missing was a day he remembered fondly.

Another showed him what appeared to be an obese woman taking a bath while smoking. But the bathtub was far too small, and only a portion of the woman could fit inside. Like a reverse iceberg. He was just glad the numerous folds of her fat blocked his view from anything unpleasant. That was not something he wanted to see.

There was even one of a chef, or at least something wearing a chef's hat. Like the woman before it, he was also fairly large, only slightly trimmer than his uncle. But his face drew the most attention. It looked like he was wearing a mask, the skin not fitting quite right, and he could see red, splotchy skin underneath.

Did he skin someone and wear their flesh as a suit? The thought brought a new wave of nausea to Harry. This world was truly messed up if that was the case. But maybe he was wrong and the skin suit was rubber or something, used to hide the grotesque monster underneath.

That was only mildly more comforting.

There were several more pictures following the like, too numerous for Harry to bother remembering. But he did ask Six if she recognized any of them, to which she shook her head in the negative, "No. If they're real, then they don't live here."

That was a relief at the very least. He didn't want to run into any of the things he saw on the wall.

The two of them reached the open door, and Six made a gesture for Harry to keep quiet. He nodded his head, and Six slowly crept inside.

The first thing she noticed was the cages. How could she not, they were stacked to the ceiling in some places. The floor was lacking any sort of carpeting, being just plain wood. The light in the room was dim, coming only from the open door behind her, casting the whole room in a gloomy shadow.

As the two of them made their way fully inside the room, Harry looked about with wide eyes, "W-what the… What happened here?"

The cages weren't much of a surprise to Harry, having seen a few already, with bones picked clean inside. Bones that didn't belong to any animal. But this was different, more sinister, as hard as that was to believe.

The cages themselves were empty, something that would normally relieve the both of them. As apathetic as Six could be at times, she didn't actually want anyone to suffer, especially like this.

But something was very wrong here. They could see the black, sludge-like substance in the middle of the floor, in a far greater amount than anywhere else. But that wasn't all. Trails of the gunk could be seen traveling from several of the empty cages, coalescing into the center.

Blood, deep and red, splattered against the cage bars, intermingling with the black of the goop, like they were forcibly dragged from their imprisonment. But if that were the case, then where were the bodies?

It's possible they were all eaten, but for some reason, Six had her doubts. She couldn't explain why, just a feeling in the back of her head telling her there was more to what happened here.

"I'm not sure. It looks like several kids were kept here, but something grabbed them. Probably the same thing that tried to get us," she said.

"But that's not all, is it?" Harry said, having a similar feeling to Six. He couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to this room than meets the eye.

"No, something else happened here. I can't put my finger on it, but…" she trailed off. There was something off about this room. Something dark. The house normally had an oppressive aura, but this room cranked it up to eleven.

She inspected the room as best she could, looking for any sign of a hidden crack or something that would lead them out of here. Looking up, she thought she could see something, but it was hard to make out in the dim light, and her lighter wouldn't be much help.

But then she remembered Harry had something that should prove useful, "Hairy, can I see your flashlight?" she asked.

"Sure," he said, retrieving it from his shorts that were way too big. She nodded in thanks, before shining the light in the room, causing the shadows to dance in delight. It certainly did not help with the foreboding atmosphere in the room, not one little bit.

Now with more light, Six was able to make out more of the room, revealing secrets that were previously hidden. Up in the corner, barely visible at this angle, was another vent opening. It would be difficult to reach, but not impossible, just some climbing and a few well-placed jumps.

Harry followed the path of the beam of light, seeing the vent as well, "Looks like there's a way out. Should we start to climb?" he asked. Six shook her head once again, "No, let's explore the rest of the hallway first."

Harry nodded, eager to leave the room one way or another. As Six turned around to leave, she flashed the light over the center of the room, and something caught her eye.

Noticing his companion wasn't walking with him to leave the room, Harry looked back to see what she was doing. Following the beam of light, he saw her inspecting something by the large sludge pile. He walked over to see what had her so distracted.

It was barely visible, and nearly covered completely by the black sludge, but Harry could make out a line of white. It stood as a stark contrast to the black, but even so, it was hardly visible, even with the flashlight directly shining on it.

Six had some pretty sharp eyes, at least compared to Harry. While he didn't need glasses in this world, his vision wasn't what one would call great. Everything was clear enough, like he was wearing his glasses from his old world.

Too bad they were the wrong prescription.

Even so, he could clearly see the line of white, but he had no idea what it was for what its purpose could be.

The pair noticed right away that it wasn't just one line, it was several. No, that wasn't quite true, it was one line, the black substance merely covered parts of it, making it seem like there were multiple.

If you looked carefully, it became clear it formed a circle of some kind, confusing the two even more. Six had never seen anything like it before, and neither had Harry.

"What is this?" Harry asked, squatting down and reaching for the line. Upon closer inspection, it looked like it was made of chalk. Just who or what made this thing? And why?

As Harry touched the white line, his entire body seized up and began spasming, like he was having a seizure, a burning pain shooting through him like an electric shock.

"Hairy!" Six yelled in concern, watching as his eyes rolled into the back of his head, as he collapsed onto the floor. She kneeled down beside him, shaking him none too gently, trying to get him to respond.

After nearly a minute of him laying there comatose, Six was almost ready to give up. But he was still breathing, so she wasn't ready to throw in the towel just yet. Grabbing him by his arms, she began to drag him out of the room. She wasn't sure where she could take him, but anywhere had to be better than here.

That wasn't completely true, but she didn't know what else to do. It was the white circle that caused him to freak out, so her best plan of action was to get him away from it.

As soon as she crossed the threshold, Harry seemed to jerk awake, nearly causing Six to fall onto her butt. Thankfully, she had amazing balance and reflexes, and managed to stay on her feet.

He looked around in near hysteria, eyes darting every which way, searching for something yet unable to focus on a single thing. His breathing was rapid and erratic, and Six thought he might pass out at any moment.

"Hairy," she said, trying to snap him out of it, but it was no use. He may have been awake, but his mind was clearly elsewhere. She tried again, louder, which made her feel itchy. She hated being loud.

But still, nothing. She looked around the hallway nervously, expecting something to pop out of nowhere to attack them. So far, nothing. But if she didn't snap her friend out of whatever fear induced trance he was in, then it was only a matter of time. Something was bound to travel these halls eventually, whether they heard them or not.

She grabbed him by the shoulders, intent on shaking him, but the contact made him panic, and with a yell of fright, he slapped her hand away and crawled away, desperate to escape what he must have perceived as an enemy.

Six watched him crawl under a table, back against the wall, searching for an enemy that just wasn't there. It was like that one time she watched a kid eat a poisonous mushroom. He ran away from things that weren't there until he ran into something that was.

Six made sure to avoid mushrooms after that.

But Harry hadn't eaten anything of the sort, at least as far as she could tell, so it had to have been that circle in the other room. There was no other explanation. Just what in the world did they stumble onto?

She approached him cautiously, careful not to make any sudden movements. She didn't want to scare him even further if she could help it. "Hairy," she said gently, trying to coax him back to reality.

The sound of her voice drew his attention, as he stared right at her. But she could tell that even though he was looking directly into her eyes, he still didn't see her. He was clearly gazing at something else.

Something that terrified him.

"Hairy, it's me, Six," she kept trying, hoping she didn't have to slap him. How did she snap him out of it last time? Oh right, she clapped in his face. She wasn't sure that was the best idea this time, however. With how scared he was, he might react violently, and if he used his power…

No, it was better to get him out of it gently. WIth that in mind, she placed herself directly in front of him, before reaching out and grabbing his hands. He flinched back, holding his hands to his chest, but Six wasn't one to give up so easily.

"Hairy, look at me," she said, reaching her hands out slowly again. His eyes cleared, but only slightly. She was making progress, bit by bit. No matter how much she wanted to hurry this up and head for somewhere less exposed, she couldn't. This had to be done gradually, step by step.

She grabbed his hands once again, and while he recoiled slightly, he didn't jerk his hands away again. Good, more progress.

"Hairy, can you see me?" she asked, squeezing his hands. He stared down at them, his face a mask of confusion, but slowly, his eyes became clear. He clutched her hands tightly, staring at them in wonder, before looking back at her face.

"S-Six?" he asked. He was clearly still confused about where he was, but at least his breathing was getting under control, and she could no longer hear his heart beating in his chest, so that was good. She was worried he might have a heart attack if it kept up.

"It's me Hairy. You're ok, you're safe," she said, as gently as she could. He looked at her uncomprehendingly, "S-safe?" He shifted his gaze to his surroundings, still not fully in the moment.

"Yes, safe. Do you remember what happened?" she asked. He looked at her once more in confusion, before something seemed to click in his mind. Without warning, he threw her hands to the side and crawled away from her. Six thought he was about to flee from her again, which made her chest tighten uncomfortably for some reason, but instead, he did something she didn't expect.

He threw up all over the dirty rug. She watched in disgust and mild irritation as chunks of last night's dinner stained the floor. Wasting food was never a good thing, especially when you didn't know when your next meal would be, but this irked her for completely different reasons.

She worked very hard on that meal, and she didn't like seeing her effort go to waste.

Oh well, at least he seemed to have snapped out of whatever trance he was in, so she couldn't complain too much. A small loss for a greater victory, she could live with that.

After a minute or two of Harry emptying his stomach, he finally subsided, regaining control of himself. He leaned back against the wall, completely exhausted. Six's nose crinkled at the smell, but she didn't comment. She instead leaned against the wall as well, far away from the pile of puke.

She gave him another minute to compose himself, before she asked the question burning a hole in her mind, "Hairy, what happened?"

He looked her through his peripherals, before switching his gaze to his hands, clenching them tightly in his lap. He didn't want to tell her, to relive what just happened, but he had to. She deserved to know. Knowledge is power after all, and this knowledge might just keep her alive.

That was worth more than any discomfort the story might bring. So with a deep breath, he began to tell her everything.

"I saw it Six…" he said, gaze shifting to look her directly in the eyes.

"I saw what happened in that room."