I stood in front of the third door, staring up at the three green-lit hourglass icons. The poltergeist wailed and howled around me, sending an icy breeze to chill my bones but it was little more than a nuisance after being trapped in the frozen room.
All I had to do was reach for the knob. One simple turn and I could walk inside to my next challenge. Only my hand wouldn’t listen. Every time I reached for it my fingers stiffened and the whole damn hand began to shake. It had to be a side effect of being almost frozen. What other reason could there be for the odd reaction and the thundering beat pounding my ribs from deep inside my chest?
Stella, her purple eyes blazing like twin flames, reached up with a forepaw and placed it on my thigh. She didn’t bark but she did let out something halfway between a huff and a sneeze. It was comforting despite the oddity of it.
Only two more rooms. That wasn’t much. I could handle it.
I didn’t want to think about what would happen when I’d completed the challenges in both these rooms. The only real options were the front door would open and release us from this hell, or the golden walls barring us from the upper floor would shatter and there would be more deadly zones available to me. I knew which option I would prefer but didn’t want to think about it too hard. The game had a nasty habit of taking my deepest fears and bringing them to reality, there was no need to give it more ammo.
Stella's huffing sneeze turned into a yip and finally, my hand reached the knob, my gloved fingers wrapping around it in an unsteady grip. There was a deep breath trapped inside my chest that refused to come out, the discomfort of it making me close my eyes as I turned my hand and shoved. I peeked through my lashes at what lay in wait for me, being careful to look up as well as around.
This one wasn’t as odd as the others. In fact, it looked like a room that belonged in the manor house before the poltergeist had turned the place into its own personal murder playground.
It was a big beautiful office complete with dark wooden bookcases lining the walls sporting a rolling ladder. An enormous desk sat in the center of the room with a traditional banker’s lamp resting atop it along with a mess of papers and pens. Two identical winged armchairs faced the desk and in the corner was a beautiful globe on a golden stand with a clear seam around its middle. The entire place smelled of aged paper, wood polish, and treated leather with perhaps a hint of cigar smoke.
This was a room I’d only seen in movies and yet it was something I’d always wanted. For whatever reason the setup gave off this wave of power and comfort that I so desperately wanted to be a part of my life.
Stella bolted inside before I could stop her. She went straight for the desk, her nose to the floor as she sniffed around it in a circle. I hesitated on the threshold. Stepping into a dream seemed like a very fast way to have it warped into a hellish nightmare. I did not welcome the added torment. I had a large backlog of horrors that I’d already buried deep inside my brain where I hoped they’d get lost. If I kept adding to the pile I might actually explode
“Stella, get back here,” I demanded.
The cattle dog lifted her head, revealing long incisors that she hadn’t had before and if I wasn’t mistaken, her snout was thinner and pointier. She was becoming more and more like a mouse with every passing minute. If I waited too long I would follow suit and then I would have failed. A pathetic thieving mouse doomed to haunt this manor along with the poltergeist for however long mice lived.
Even if it weren’t for the mouse transformation fiasco lighting a fire under my ass, I couldn’t leave Stella in there on her own, so in my boot went after her. I flinched even before the door banged closed, the anticipation of it almost worse than the sound itself.
Nothing came out to immediately kill me, threaten me, or tease me with false promises of riches untold which was kind of nice. I marched over to the desk and opened a flat rectangular box, snatching the final cigar sitting within. I lifted it to my nose, breathing deeply of the pungent full-bodied aroma.
Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.
New Item Received: Cigar (Superb)
Description: This is a foul-tasting and poisonous thing set here to trick you into smoking it so that you die immediately. Don’t do it. Don’t let the bad guys win. Just hand it over and I’ll get rid of it for you. No, don’t even give it another ounce of thought. I don’t mind. I am your friend and I would never lie to you. Give it to me. Hand it over. It's for your own safety and no other reason. I promise. No, seriously, give it to me!
I chuckled at the glowing golden words floating in front of my face and very carefully tucked the prize into my bum bag where it would be safe from greedy little fingers.
I rounded the desk and sat in the elegant rolling chair, resting my elbows on the desk and folding my fingers in front of me like some villain or a high-level executive. All I needed was some puny victim to be cowering in front of me and the image would be complete.
My purpose wasn’t just to play make-believe, I was also here to read the papers. It seemed like the logical choice given there were no obvious indicators of what I needed to do to escape this place. The majority of them were very boring things like graphs and pie charts depicting the productivity of some unknown company. Some were letters of termination and one was a printout of a very lewd email stapled to a full HR report that explained how the company was not liable and no further action was required.
The yawn hit me hard and fast, making my jaw crack in protest as it dropped wide open. Maybe the poltergeist planned to bore me to death this time. It was one way to kill my fantasy about having an office just like this one.
Stella had made her way to the bookshelves and was snuffling loudly at the lower shelves. I let her be as I opened every drawer the desk had looking for treasures to steal or some sort of hint that might keep me from being turned into a damn mouse. When there was nothing there I moved to the roaring fireplace, taking a moment to soak up a bit of the delicious warmth before carefully inspecting the statues lining the mantle. All of them were intricate and carved from a unique source. One was onyx, and another a wood so pale it was almost white. They were all different sizes and all of them a fox just like the knocker on the door had been.
Before I could think too much about it my brain had me line up every one of them from smallest to largest. I reached the final statue (a pink quartz one the size of a small dog) and worked at steadying it on the very edge. There was a lump in the stone of the mantle right where I needed it to sit to complete my lineup. I muttered and cursed as I carefully balanced the big statue on top of the lump. After longer than I care to admit the thing stood in place for a full three seconds only for the lump to depress and the statue to rock precariously.
I yelped and dove forward but it was no use, the statue toppled and shattered over the floor, sending a wave of sharp splintered stone over my booted feet. I was more disappointed that I’d failed in my ridiculous task than the fact that I’d broken something that looked precious.
I bent to dislodge a particularly big shard of pink quartz and used my Identify skill on it.
Pink Quartz Shard
Properties: A magical relic designed to hold a spell or surplus magicka. Merchants pay a pretty penny for these rare products.
Restricted to Mage Class
Effects: Magic Capacity 0/500
My brows lifted and I gave a little nod at that description. I figured it would be material for a Crafter like a Builder or something along those lines. I wouldn’t have guessed that it actually had a purpose beyond that.
I tucked the shard into my bum bag and turned, letting out a heavy breath as I searched for some other clue to get me out of this room. It took little more than a thought to use my Enhanced Shadow Eye. I scanned for hidden treasures. There was nothing by the fireplace and only a useful hiding place in the far corner.
Stella’s thunderous bark had me spinning on my toes, reaching for my blade with a hand that felt strange. She sat by the bookshelves beneath a sconce on the wall holding an elaborate candlestick. Her tail was wagging hurriedly behind her and her tongue flopped out of her too skinny snout. Despite Stella’s unbelievable cuteness, it was the candlestick that held my attention.
It was aglow with golden sparkles.
I let my hand drop away from the grip of my sword as I hurried over to inspect the thing. I tried to flex my fingers in my glove, annoyed by the way the leather felt tight on one end and loose on the other.
“What have you found for me, girl?” I asked the happy thief impersonator.
Her answer was to bark at me again and turn and dig at the already terribly scratched floor. I frowned, pushing her back and running the thumb of my one behaving hand over the scratches. The edges were dulled with age until it was almost rounded and the exposed wood was stained and dirty. These scratches were not new.
The inevitable smile turned my lips as I straightened and wrapped both hands around the candlestick, giving it a good yank.
A loud thud sounded out and the bookcase right beside us scraped across the floor as it swung in a wide arc.