Six stared at her friend, unsure of what to say. The story he told, while not unbelievable, was still disturbing. She hasn't heard of one of the residents performing some kind of ritual before. It was almost too hard to believe.

But she doubted Harry was lying. What reason could he have? And from what she's seen of the other room, it seemed to check out. The pieces fit, as much as she didn't want to believe it.

But to think he was actually able to travel back in time, at least to some extent. It was a baffling concept, and her head hurt just thinking about it. His power, magic he called it, was something else. It was as detrimental as it was helpful, at least until he learned to control it.

A true double edged sword.

The two sat in silence for a while, unsure of what to say. Harry had his knees drawn to his chest, staring at nothing in particular. Six couldn't blame him for it this time. Even she would need some time to get her head right after witnessing what he did.

Like the time she witnessed what The Craftsman does to kids he captures, the process of turning them into dolls. It was no less horrifying than what Harry just described. The screaming, the blood, the pleas to stop, and the one question they repeat over and over again.

Why?

Six shivered involuntarily. She doubted they had a true reason as to why they did such acts. It was more like it was their purpose, and they had nothing else. No other desire, no will to pursue something that didn't cause such pain and suffering. Nothing but the pure instinct to enact misery wherever they go.

This world truly is a rotten place. But even so, there were one or two bright points, shining beacons that cast away the shadows and illuminated the way forward. Her last friend had been one such point, and her current friend was another.

And she didn't like seeing him like this. It caused a knot to form in the pit of her stomach. Even if she's only known him for a day, less actually, it didn't matter. They were in this together now.

They would either escape this place, or they would die.

In order to do that, she first needed to knock him out of his funk, but how to do so? Thinking back to the story he just told, her mind wandered to the parts that were slightly irrelevant. The ones that had little to do with what was actually happening.

There was one thing he mentioned, something she doubted he even realized he went off on a tangent about. Hope, or his lack thereof.

Not that she could blame him for that either. Hope was a hard thing to find, especially in a place like this. Until recently, she herself had all but given up on the concept, resigning herself to a life of nothing but survival.

But then, something happened. Something changed her entire perspective, and an emotion she buried for the sake of survival, climbed its way out of the grave.

Harry showed her hope.

It was such a little thing, that feeling, and yet it held depths too deep to fathom. A small pool of water transformed into a raging tide, forcing the person trapped inside the rapids to follow its currents.

That was what she experienced the moment Harry showed her that key. She was swept up in the torrent of that emotion called hope. Perhaps that's what he needed now, a reminder that not all things are lost.

Six dug around in her pocket, removing the object in question. Her fingers trailed over the smooth metal of the key, taking special care to feel the nicks and scratches with her fingertips.

Such a little thing, and yet more precious than any amount of gold. At least to her. This small, seemingly insignificant thing, was her hope. The symbol that escape was in fact possible.

And the person next to her was the reason she could feel this way. She owed it to him to bring him out of his funk, no matter how many times it happened.

Although, she wished it didn't happen so often. This was like, the third time in a single day. Not a productive pattern to have, especially when it comes to escaping this place, or survival in general. Hopefully it would happen less as time went on, otherwise, they were in for some issues down the road.

Holding the key in her hand, she carefully scooted up next to Harry, until their bodies were nearly touching, "Hey, Hairy?" He turned to look at her, with a melancholy expression on his face, one that hasn't changed since he woke up.

"Yeah? What is it?" he asked. Six gingerly took his hands in hers, and gently placed the key inside of them. He was surprised by the gesture, giving her a confused look.

"Uh, Six? Why did you…?" he asked, leaving the question open. She gave him a soft smile in return, and Harry was even able to see it this time. Seems like she was getting better at it, at least a little bit.

"Do you know what that is?" she questioned. Harry continued to look confused, even as he inspected the object in his hand, his fingers tracing the same grooves etched into the metal that Six did.

"Uh, it's a key, right?" he answered, sounding unsure of himself. At the very least he wasn't looking like a sad puppy that lost his favorite toy anymore, so that was something.

"It's more than that," Six said, leaning back against the wall. The two of them were somewhat hidden underneath a table, a large grandfather clock to one side, and a tablecloth dangling over the edge, obstructing them from view.

It wasn't the best hiding spot, but it was the best she could do while Harry told his story. She insisted they move away from the vomit underneath the table on the opposite side. It was a rather pungent aroma, one that she could still smell from here.

That bird smelled even worse coming up than it did going down, as hard as that was for her to believe. Honestly, the rats smelled better when cooked, and that was something she didn't think was possible.

Harry continued to stare at his friend, even as she focused on a spot on the wall, the smile never leaving her face. But it was her words that shook him to this core.

"It's hope. Hope that this place can be escaped, that there's more to life than just surviving. You gave that to me, so don't give up on it now."

Harry's eyes widened as her words reached him. He knew how much that little thing meant to her, at least on an intellectual level, but it was hard to feel. He hasn't been trapped here for who knows how long, desperately surviving against the monsters that roamed these festering halls.

But she had. Watching as others weren't so lucky, falling victim to The Residents or other creatures that called this place home. Even losing the one friend she had made up until this point.

Her eyes when they first met were just like his. Eyes that didn't believe they would ever see a brighter tomorrow. That this life of misery was all life had to offer. And what kind of life was that?

But now, ever since he gave her that key, a new light shone in the depths. Her face seemed so much brighter than before, though if you didn't know her you probably wouldn't notice. And even though he didn't know her all that well, considering he met her yesterday, it was enough to recognize the similarities they both possessed, and the little changes that no one else would.

With one little trinket, her whole life took on a new meaning. There was still some amounts of despair and disbelief, emotions that would probably follow her till the end of her days, but there was also something new shining forth.

Hope.

That awful emotion that promised something better but failed to deliver time after time. It was hard to believe that someone like Six, someone so similar to himself, would cling to the lying scoundrel named hope.

But if she could find the courage to hope again, what was his excuse? His hope for so long was to escape his relatives, to never have to see them again. And it looks like that hope was realized, though not in a manner he ever believed possible.

If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

He was reminded of the story about the monkey's paw, an object that grants wishes. It would grant you your wish, sure, but if you weren't specific about what you desired and more importantly, how you desired to receive it, it would do it in a way that you wouldn't want.

Just like Harry. He wanted to escape his family, and while he did so, he was now trapped somewhere even worse. Maybe The Ferryman had a refund policy?

Before he knew it, Harry felt tears fall down his face. Small drops of salty water fell from his eyes, landing on the very object in his hand that caused them in the first place. But unlike the tears he's always shed until now, tears of pain and sadness, of loneliness so great it seeped into his bones, these were tears of gratitude.

Maybe he could hope, just a little. It might backfire on him in the end, but as long as he had his friend by his side, anything was possible. They would escape this hilltop manor, and after that, they would find a way to rid themselves of this awful world all together.

That's how he felt anyway.

"Thank you Six," Harry said, wiping the tears from his eyes. He wasn't entirely successful, as he felt new ones appear to replace the old. He gave her a watery smile of his own, handing her back the key, the symbol of their hope.

It was just too bad their hope took the image of a creepy eye, but beggars can't be choosers.

"Anytime. But you know, this is becoming a bad habit of yours. This is the third time I've had to snap you out of some kind of trance," Six told him, with a bit of tease in her voice. Harry snorted in amusement, as the tears finally seemed to dry up. He was glad she didn't mention it.

"I'll work on it," he joked back. The two sat in companionable silence for a bit, enjoying the moment of calm. Ever since they met, it's been one harrowing moment after the next. Not even sleep offered them much of a respite.

They would like to say they were enjoying the peace and quiet, but with the tick-tocking of the clocks, that was impossible. If Six didn't know better, she would say they were getting louder, just to spite them.

She looked at her friend, opening her mouth to ask something, but closing it just as fast. She almost looked like a fish, not that Harry was brave enough to tell her that.

"I'm ok. You can ask," he told her. She still appeared hesitant, but managed to get her question out, gripping the brass eye in her hand firmly.

"Do you have any idea what they were trying to do?"

Harry's mind wandered back to the room, back to the moment in time The Pretender started whatever spell she was trying to do. He wished he had the forethought to inspect the book she was holding, but he was too scared to do so in the moment, his feet rooted to the ground, like they were caked in cement.

Maybe if he could understand what The Pretender was saying it would be a different story, but he couldn't. Her words were a garbled mess that felt harsh to his ears. But that was the joy of hindsight, realizing what you should have done.

"I can't be sure, not without that book she was carrying. And even then I don't know if I could read it. If I had to make a guess, I'd say she was trying to make something," he told her with a sigh. He wished he could provide more insight, since he was their resident magical expert, but he couldn't.

Honestly, Six likely knew more about it than he did, considering she's been here so much longer than he has. His expertise came from what little he was able to do with his magic, the small amounts he's been able to figure out.

It wasn't like there was a school to learn this stuff.

Six appeared perturbed by his hypothesis, her own mind wandering to past experiences in this very house. But after some time, she came back empty. Nothing she has seen or even heard explained what happened in that room. It was completely new to her as well.

And she didn't like that. Until now, she believed the only reason they were here, the reason for this manor's existence, was to turn children into dolls for the amusement of The Pretender. But now, there seems to be a different objective entirely.

Like being turned into dolls wasn't bad enough, they could become monsters too? What more could they want? What else could they take from them?

She leaned her head back against the wall, feeling the beginning of a headache. Seems like nothing could be simple for them here, could it?

"Well, it doesn't change much I guess. Getting captured was always a death sentence, this is just one more reason to avoid it," she said. Harry gave her a nod, agreeing with her point. Getting turned into a doll or a monster, either way, you were dead.

Though, if Harry had to choose, he would probably go with doll, seeing as if he were to become a monster, he would end up killing innocent people.

Or worse, killing Six. That wasn't something he wanted to think about.

"Alright, that's enough moping around. I think it's time we continued on," said Harry, crawling out from under the table. He stood up and stretched, trying to remove the stiffness from his muscles. It felt like he was clenching every one he had, and some he wasn't aware of.

He'd be feeling that tomorrow, that's for sure. Probably the day after, too.

Six followed him out, placing the key back in her pocket. He was right, they've spent enough time here, it was time to move on. They still needed to find a fuse, and they couldn't do that sitting around all day.

It would be morning soon, and she would like to find the thing before The Residents woke up. Not to mention getting into The Pretender's room to look for clues on the other key's whereabouts. She wasn't sure if it was on this floor or the one below it, so they needed to be thorough.

"So, where to next?" asked her companion, looking over at her. Six thought about it for a moment, before she shrugged. While they needed to inspect everywhere, it didn't really matter much where they started.

"Why not the room right across from us?" she suggested.

"Sounds good to me," Harry said.

As the two began to make their way towards their next destination, a gurgling sound caught their attention. It was familiar to them, and Six noticed a suspicious blush on her friend's cheek.

"Hungry?" she asked, giving him another amused look. His blush deepened, and he gave her a sheepish look. "Yeah, kinda. I did lose my dinner after all," he said, indicating his pile of vomit on the floor.

Six crinkled her nose in disgust, having nearly forgotten about it. Now that she was reminded, the smell came back two-fold. She gave him a glare, one that lacked any real heat to it, poking him in his empty stomach.

"How dare you ruin all my hard work like that. I go to all the trouble to feed you and this is the thanks I get?"

Harry backed up, holding his hands up in surrender. He gave her a nervous look as he apologized, hoping to placate her. Even if she wasn't really angry about it after hearing the story behind it, she still wanted him to know she didn't appreciate her hard work going to waste.

"Fine, just don't let it happen again," she warned. After giving her threat, she spun around, heading for the door. Harry held his breath, sighing in relief. She didn't seem all that angry, not really, but at the same time, it was better safe than sorry.

Not like he enjoyed throwing up in the first place. He would like to avoid it as much as he could, so he had no problem agreeing to her demand.

He made no promises though.

The pair reached the entrance to a brand new room, looking up at the door. Like the ones before it, this one was also made from an aged, warped wood, though in much better condition than the previous ones. Including the one right behind them.

And of course, there was also a large eye carved from the same wood, staring down at them, daring them to enter. The brass, lever style handle was, of course, too high up. Harry was just glad they used those style of knobs, rather than the round ones he was used to. If they had, the two of them would never get the door open.

With a sigh, Harry offered to once again boost her up, but Six shook her head. "I'll let you go this time."

He shrugged his shoulders as she bent down and interlocked her fingers. Last time he had something to prove, as Six gave him a look that said she doubted he could lift her. After proving her wrong, he had no problem being the one to receive the boost.

What Harry didn't know is that Six wanted him to do it because last time the door collapsed. She did not feel like slamming into the ground again.

That's if the door even opened in the first place.

Luckily for them, it did. And luckily for Harry, it didn't collapse either. It swung open with barely a squeak, and he let go just as he passed the threshold. He pushed the door open the rest of the way, slowly revealing more and more of the room.

Six hung back a bit, looking inside for any sign of trouble. When nothing appeared out of the shadowy room ready to spear them, she let out a small sigh of relief. With how yesterday went, she half expected another new monster to show up.

Seems like she worried for nothing. But it was far too soon to let her guard down. Anything could happen at any time. Danger lurked around every corner, ready to corner the unwitting and drag them into an early grave.

The pair gave each other a look, before tentatively entering the new room. Harry sincerely hoped there would be no surprises in store for them, but he had his doubts. It seemed like they couldn't go two steps without something popping up to shock the system.

Well, as long as it wasn't another magic circle leading to unknown horrors, he would be fine with it.

The room they entered was dark, with dimly lit lanterns illuminating the room in a warm glow. They flickered slightly, just like real lanterns, making the shadows dance across the walls.

On the far end was what appeared to be a white cloth, gently dangling down the wall. Curtains lined either side of the cloth, deep purple, with holes carving great chunks out of them.

Looks like the moth had a late night snack.

Numerous chairs were arranged in a haphazard manner, that if one were to look closely, might appear to be lines. Crooked, jagged lines, but lines nonetheless. And in the center of the chairs was a much larger one, a recliner like the one Harry's uncle loved to laze in.

But it wasn't the chairs themselves that caught their attention and filled them with dread. Nor was it the way they were arranged, which while maddening in its own right, wasn't distressing.

No, the thing that had them worried was what was in the chairs themselves. Dolls, dozens of them, all placed neatly in their individual chairs, all facing the same direction. It was rather unnerving, to see so many bodies, and not a single one making a sound.

How could they? Each and every one of them were dead.

Harry shivered and gripped Six's hand unconsciously, something she didn't shy away from. The silence and the lighting, combined, created an eerie atmosphere.

"What is this room?" Harry whispered, as if he was afraid the dolls would hear him and take offense. He wasn't sure if it was possible, but he didn't want to take the chance.

"I think… It's a movie theater," Six responded, also in a whisper. Though she was quiet most of the time, she also didn't want to take the chance of the dead coming back to haunt them.

Giving the room another look, Harry came to the same conclusion as his friend. They were definitely in a creepy simulacrum of a movie theater. One without any show, and that was silent as a graveyard.

And it might as well have been one, considering all the corpses inside of it. All lined up in not so neat rows.

However, with this revelation, and Harry's hunger, he only had one question on his mind…

"Think they have popcorn?"