It wasn’t my idea to begin with, in fact, I actively objected against it. We all ended up splitting into groups. I was with Adrianne, as well as Quinn, Cade opted to go with Wren. They made sure that we had adults in each group.

We walked down the halls, they seemed almost endless. The mansion had a strange scent to it as well, kind of like someone wearing a bit too much perfume. There were many paintings, some of the ships on the roaring sea, others of people I could not recognize, landscapes, household objects, anything you could name. Even the styles differed from each other, painted in abstract, realistic, and definitely by different artists

I didn’t know why we were here, but the only thing that it seemed we had to do was solve this murder mystery. It’s pretty easy to understand that this is just a play. I don’t want to waste time either, it said that we had to be the ones to solve it, so I’d rather not let someone else get to it first.

Arianne was clearly a little unnerved, her eyes darted around, most likely scanning for any potential threat. Quinn on the other hand seemed more put together, nervously chuckling at her uneasiness. At least, that was what I thought, until the door next to us suddenly burst open.

A large yelp escaped his mouth, If I hadn’t known any better, I would have thought it came from a woman. I tried not to laugh, I really did, but my snickering was loud enough for him to hear it. He nervously scratched the back of his head, and stayed behind us, speaking nothing.

As for the door bursting open, it was a small group of people, mainly just talking about where they should look next.

“Man, all these rooms are just the exact same, maybe we should go back to the scene of the crime,” A woman said.

“That’s too easy, is it not?” A man said.

“I guess, but let’s try anyway, maybe it’s a reverse psychology kind of thing.

The group trailed off, but they might be on to something. I wasn’t the only one who was thinking it either.

“Maybe all these rooms are just a ploy to throw us off,” Quinn scratched his chin. It wasn’t a bad idea, they told us to explore the house, but this kind of thing usually requires wit and knowledge to figure out, not just randomness.

“Well, there was a gunshot, maybe there will be a bullet hole somewhere,” I said.

“What good will a bullethole do us?” Arianne asked.

I shrugged my shoulders. Truthfully I didn’t know, but right now it was something to do. It also allowed us to talk about something other than awkwardly walking down the hall in silence. We were all still strangers, and it’s not like we could really talk about anything anyway. It seemed the hallway that our group went down merely consisted of identical rooms.

“It might be better if we try and find larger rooms, like a kitchen or a master bedroom,” Quinn said.

It wasn’t a bad idea, I was thinking along similar lines. It was decided that we first go to the original room where the murder occurred, and then attempt to find any larger rooms.

As we walked down the hall heading back, I reminded myself of the predicament we were in. Who was doing this to us, was it someone here? Is this whole thing some sort of elaborate prank? It could be, but why wouldn’t I remember anything about myself? My mind rambled with many thoughts and ideas, but ultimately all led to the same conclusion, that I needed more information. None of the other guests here seem the same as us, so it’s likely we are the only ones without any memory.

We opened the door back to the ballroom, and a couple of people still lingered around. It was mainly just maids and butlers cleaning up the leftover food and drinks on the tables. I looked around a little, but there wasn’t anything that stood out to me. Ugh, these heels that I wore were starting to hurt my feet. As we walked on the tile floor, we headed up one of the two stairways. The wood on the bottom was a dark coffee brown, covered with a crimson red carpet.

You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

It was even more annoying trying to walk up the stairs in these things, I almost slipped a couple of times, but luckily I managed to catch myself on the railings. We finally reached the top balcony. There was a large golden door with handlebars across from the balcony ledge. It was the same as all the others.

I peered over the ledge and noticed something. The ledge wasn’t much of a ledge at all, it was only maybe a couple of inches away from the bottom wall.

“How long were the lights out for?” I asked.

“Hmm, I wasn’t really paying attention, but couldn’t be for more than five seconds.

Five seconds… I know it wasn’t long, that’s for sure. There would be no way that they could drag the body out, or since it’s fake, the “dead guy would have to find a way to disappear without making much noise. I looked over to the closed door, I’m pretty sure that it was closed during the super short announcement. These handlebars are push bars…

I walked over to the door and pressed on the handlebars, the bar clicked, making a loud sound. There was no way he could have gone through here, it would have made noise.

I looked down, we stood on the same color wood as the stairs. Crouching down, I put my fist on the floor by the railing and knocked on it a few times.

Hollow

“That sounds like it’s hollow, you got anything, Leilani?” Quinn asked crouching down as well. He examined the wooden boards carefully. His eyes opened a little wider than normal, I suppose he got something.

“This small area where you knocked, the wood is slightly different from the rest of the floor. Its color is a little off, and it looks like a different type of wood altogether,” Quinn said.

Was this guy some kind of wood specialist? Well, anyway, I stood up, wobbling slightly.

“It’s likely a trapdoor,” He said.

“Then, there must be a trigger somewhere right?” Arianne said.

The railing, it was where he was hunched over, so maybe….

I gently moved my fingers across the railing, coming across a small bump. I pushed on it.

Click

Only a couple of inches behind me, the trapdoor quietly squeaked, and behind me was the entrance to a small crawlspace.

“Wow, nice job!” Arianne ruffled my hair, which I did not appreciate at all.

We all peered into the small space, each of us a little hesitant to go straight down. Finally, Arianne stood up looking at Quinn.

“You first,”

“Eh? Why me!”

“You’re a man, You’re supposed to scout the area out, besides, these dresses aren’t exactly long enough to be crawling in,”

Quinn peered in the trapdoor, even though I will admit it was a little too dark for my liking. But he slowly put his leg in, then his entire body in one fell swoop. Arianne motioned for me to go next, a smile plastered on her face. I quickly got in, crouching down on all fours. In the darkness, I could hear her get in behind me.

It felt like minutes, but it was likely only a couple of seconds that we had to crawl. It was pitch black, so when I heard a familiar feminine yelp coming from Quinn, I stopped in my tracks.

Thud

I could see a small light in front of me. I peered down the hole, and there was Quinn, who landed in a large bin filled with sheets and pillows. He stuck his thumb up into the air, signaling that he was okay.

After he got out, I followed suit, as did Arianne.

It was a rather small, rectangular room, well, smaller than most of the rooms, but still quite large for a laundry room.

Washing machines lined one side, while dryers lined the other. While the washers were shut off, all of the dryers were turned on and whirring. The walls and tile were both white, but the ceiling was a lighter shade of red. In the center of the room, A large foldable gray table, with a sheet of paper taped to the center. On the other side across from us, is a single windowless wooden door, with a lock on it.

Arianne walked over to the note, reading it out loud.

“If the lock on the door is unlocked, then it seems that you were beaten, if not, then continue reading. The laundry is a perfect place to get rid of any evidence one may have on them. To escape this room, look for clues, I suggest searching through the clothes, you never know, one of them might be the murderer’s.”

“So we have to sit and do laundry? This just seems like free labor,” Quinn said sighing. It felt like they were just giving us the answer at this point, I know it’s not supposed to be an actual murder case, but still, some ounce of realism would be nice. Besides, this locked door with only one way out. This feels like some sort of safety hazard. I suppose it’s time to get searching then, I hope this doesn’t take hours….