“Let me out!”
Get out…
“Pete this isn’t funny. Open the fucking door.”
Get out…
“Argh!”
I threw up my hands and marched away, pacing the length of the office and back again with my free hand rubbing a sore spot against my scalp. Honestly, it was no surprise that I was going bald. My brand-new tail whipped around my legs, determined to trip me up no matter how many times I threw it back behind me. The best I could manage was wrapping the damn thing over my arm like an elegant lady holding up the train of her gown.
“Stella!”
Stella rolled at the sound of my cry, stumbling to get her feet under her. When she did finally manage it she tilted her head and flopped out her tongue, panting as she eyed me with those intense purple eyes. Seeing her still act like herself calmed me just a little. It wasn’t enough to stop the pounding in my chest though.
The color of her eyes and the odd rippling of her now black coat was just another reminder that I was running on two countdown timers. I had no way to tell how long the shadow globs would cling to Stella and hide her true class the same way I had no idea if we could finish the manor of puzzles and magical mysteries before we became mice.
Tossing the candlestick I was still holding to my other hand I flexed the fingers that had grown stiff from my iron grip, not caring that the flame almost sputtered out from the movement.
Pete finally stopped his insistent wailing but the absence of it only added to the flood of uneasiness eating me up from the inside out. I snapped my fingers and marched back to the door, trying to see how it should open. The first room held a riddle that needed solving and the second a nasty trick. There had to be something special about this place that would see the door open up. I glanced upward, ensuring I wasn’t missing something as stupid as a window. Only a solid wall rose from above the door until it met the ceiling. I know I shouldn’t be but I was disappointed regardless.
I placed the candlestick on the floor, being careful not to hit Stella who had finally come over to join me, and ran my now free hands over the door, looking for hidden secrets. I couldn’t feel anything or even see anything despite my desperate use of both my Advanced Shadow Eye and Identify skills. Identify did give a very helpful description of ‘door’ but I’m not really sure what to do with that information.
There weren’t even any helpful carvings in the wood to point me in the right direction. All I had to go on was the door was locked and finding the secret room hadn’t been the trigger to unlock it. Does that mean that other players might have made it this far without finding the secret room? I found that hard to believe. There was also a notable lack of skeletons in this room which, like the one before, meant everyone who had made it this far had succeeded here as well. I really, really didn’t want to be the first pile of bones to mar the appearance of this room. That’s not the legacy I wanted to leave behind when the thread of fate that kept me in this place was cut.
Get out…
I sighed, my head hanging as I marched back to the desk and took a seat in the ridiculously fancy rolling chair that sat behind it. Sure, it cupped your ass nicely and was clearly made of the best quality leather but who needed a chair this fancy? Old Man Wellington, that’s who. Sometimes I had to remind myself that not everyone was strapped for cash in the before times.
I laid out the stack of papers, the Rodent Relic and the Poppit of the Devoured, trying to figure out how the three went together. Stella sat beside me, resting her head on the arm of the chair. I reached out and stroked her head between her strange rounded ears as the cogs in my brain slowly turned.
It took a moment of glaring at the collectibles before I shoved them back into my bum bag and dropped my head to the desk, banging it a few times for good measure. None of it would help me open the door. I’d considered even using the relic in one of my upgradable items but what good would that do? How would that open the door? No, none of those were the answer. I needed a key.
My eyes returned to the statues atop the fireplace mantel. I might have broken one of them but the rest stood tall and all in a line, each fox smirking at me for my failure. One of the statues caught my attention. It wasn’t a full fox, just the head of one made of what looked like gold and sitting atop a thin peg. I’d placed it in the center because of its height. Others were similar in that they were only a head and not a full fox but none of them were sitting on a peg.
I pushed the chair back, unintentionally disturbing Stella. I gave her a hearty pat as an apology before running to the mantel. I picked up the fox and eyed the heavy disc-like weight the peg sat on. With little more than a couple of twists the weight detached, leaving me with a threaded peg the same thickness as a pencil.
I sidestepped, somewhat enjoying the way the heat of the fire warmed my midsection, and ran my fingers along the mantel until I found the lump that had depressed and knocked over the pink quartz fox. Once I located it I jammed the peg into it, thrilled that it fit like a glove. With both hands, I forced the peg down until the fox head sat flush with the mantel and a loud click sounded.
Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
Behind me the door swung wide, letting a gust of icy air sweep into the office room that extinguished every burning candle. With the gust came Pete’s familiar wail.
Get out…
“Don’t have to tell me twice, come on Stella,” I said.
Together we bolted from the room pausing at the base of one of the twin sweeping staircases. I bent, clasping my knees as I sucked in deep steadying breaths through my nose. The door to the third room slammed behind us, locking the bastard of an office away again and I couldn’t be happier for it.
I was more frustrated with myself than anything else. I’d been drawn to those fox statues almost immediately but it had never occurred to me to look at them more closely. I’d been relying too heavily on my Advanced Shadow Eye to guide me when it wasn’t always the be-all and end-all of thieving skills. I had senses of my own that were still good despite their lack of magical influence. Not everything requires a gained skill to advance. I would have to remember that.
When the full body shakes had started to die down I turned my head to look at Stella, “What do you think, time for the fourth and final room?”
The words came out kind of jumbled and awkward. With my brows dipped so low I could almost see the wild bushy hairs I reached up, feeling around my own mouth. Horror made me squeak and stumble back only to be blasted forward onto my belly by the wall of golden light protecting the stairway. My jaw was starting to elongate and my nose spread and dropped, like someone had grabbed my face with their hand, smooshed it together, and stretched it out. Worse still was the fact that my two front incisors had grown long and were now sticking out over my bottom lip.
Stella pawed at me and whined as I lay prone on the cold floor, my head swimming and my stomach threatening to dispel anything and everything in it. I lifted my head, looking through the wavering scenes to stare at the monkey head knocker marking the fourth door.
The transformation was speeding up. I had to hurry.
Before I pushed myself upright my eyes dropped to the mouse hole Old Man Wellington had claimed as his own. Two glowing red eyes peeked out at me. Nothing could have been creepier. The Old Man was watching and waiting for me to succeed, unwilling to help despite the fact that it was his freedom I was fighting for.
I pushed myself up, happy that once on my feet I could no longer see those glowing eyes. There was something odd about all this. It was clear that I was not the first person to complete this quest so why was Old Man Wellington still a creepy ass mouse? Was Melumek so cruel to keep him trapped no matter how many people completed this quest?
I took the time to open up my quest menu and look through the description all over again to make sure I hadn’t forgotten anything.
The Candlestick in the Ballroom
Description: You found Old Man Wellington himself. The fool brought a trinket into his home that he scavenged from overseas. Much to everyone's surprise the trinket held a poltergeist that has now claimed the man’s manor house as its own. You’ve been told if you take too long to solve the poltergeist’s puzzles he’ll turn you into a mouse. So hurry, solve the puzzles, and find the clues to trap the poltergeist and get the hell out of here a slightly richer and less mousey man.
Well, it didn’t specifically say that I would be saving the man, so maybe that was the loophole that kept him trapped in his mousey form. All I had to focus on was finding the container or whatever it was that Pete had been brought here in. The papers I’d taken from the previous room hinted that it might be a crown but I swear if that was the case I would go on a murdering spree. I’m not even joking; monsters, players, witches, no matter what it was I would kill it. Melumek could not possibly be that obsessed with headwear. If he was he could at least branch out a little. What was wrong with finding a magical Akubra? At least that would be more interesting than another bloody crown or helmet.
Every step I took toward the monkey door landed with a solid thump, fuelled by my burning rage. Pete wailed overhead, a perfect accompaniment to my mood. Stella trotted along beside me, her long tail whipping about and her head held high, not at all bothered by the same things that were plaguing me.
I reached the door, glaring at the four lit hourglass icons like they’d somehow insulted me.
My eyes flicked up to the monkey and I said, “Don’t fucking mess with me. I’m over this place, you hear me? You let me in, give me the damn answer, and let me back out. Get it?”
Pete’s breeze blasted me from behind, carrying with it a squeaky kind of laughter that could only have come from the mouse hole. I ground my teeth, furious that the bastard could find my anger amusing. Even the damn monkey looked like it was smiling despite the ring hanging from its mouth.
Swearing under my breath I reached for the knob throwing the door open and folding my arms over my chest as I glared at what lay on the other side. It looked just like the second room; the walls were bare stone, and red drapery covered no doubt fake windows along the right-hand wall. The only differences between this and the second room were the lack of a misleading chest in the center and no escapable window over the door.
I lifted one hand and dropped the other, keeping a firm grip on my sword as I marched into the room with Stella at my side. The door slammed shut behind me and a new, and yet oddly familiar, voice laughed, filling the room and not just my ears. Stella growled and spun around back toward the door, her feet spread wide and her front lowered toward the ground.
I closed my eyes for half a second before turning with her. My sword left its scabbard in a smooth movement as I turned.
A woman I knew well in a flaming black dress with her long blonde hair braided and sitting over one shoulder stood in front of the door. In her hand was the same skull-topped scepter that I had given her.
“Miranda,” I said, frustrated that the word was mangled by my distorted face.
She beamed at me, a wicked kind of glee lighting up her eyes. “Hello, Joe. I’ve missed you horribly.”
“Yeah, pull the other one, it's got bells on,” I snapped.
“I like your tail,” she said with a smirk.