HOUR 2
The group thins out to seven as time passes. Three had already gone their separate ways. The others look at each other, wondering who would take the next leap of faith. It’s pindrop silent.
One of them leaves the huddle. He points to another hallway in the exquisite mansion.
He breaks the silence, “I’ll try this direction.”
He leaves the group of now 6, heading off in a completely different direction. He walks towards the hall on the second floor. The clicks of his shoes echo with his every step in between the four walls.
As he steps into the hall, his eyes fixed onto a still gramophone. The records lay still on a rustic wooden stand, carved with intricate floral designs curving along its edges. The player looked as if it was poised to play the melody, and stood ready to scratch out a record’s music.
The romantic era music fills the hall with a serene tranquility and for a moment he forgets the terror he’s trapped in. He walks around the hall and admires the stairs, with its delicate curving handrail. It’s only now does he notice the plethora of black and white. There’s no sign of color anywhere. His eyes fixed onto the 9 photographs, which were the only things in the room that had color. They were mounted onto the peeling daisy wallpaper. They glare out at him, springing forty to life with their brightly saturated colors in a perfect contrast to the bleak black and white.
However, one picture remained stuck in the shades of gray of the 1900’s. Framed on the walls is a picture of a perfect couple. The woman’s hair rested above her shoulder with rather short tight ringed curls. Despite her rather simplistic makeup, she wore a bold lip framed with the darker shade of black. Paired with her stunning looks was a rather femine dress, a long maxi skirt and a short blouse. Beside her was a man, holding his shotgun right beside him. It was almost like the man would never return to see his love again. And in the top right corner of the picture was their name, Mr. & Mrs. Schmidt.
On closer inspection of the picture, the wanderer in the halls could find a dark shadow in the background. It was murky and looming over the couple, looking as if it was about to pounce on them. The couple, however, looked unaware of this figure in the background. They smiled as if it was a visiting relative, and stared directly into the camera.. almost as if they knew he was viewing their photograph.
He shakes his head, trying to get the sickening image out of his mind. As he returns to reality, he notices something else on the photograph: a small flap coming off the photograph. On the
other almost
bare side of the wall he notices
9 pictures.
He reaches over with his fingers, ready to delicately peel off the photo.
The classical music stops.
When he removes the crisp paper off the decorative frame, it comes off cleanly and neatly.
On the back, the word “
ze” was printed in neat black, with a classic typewriter font. He closes his eyes for a second. He’s unsure of what's happening. To clear his thoughts, he goes back to the gramophone and puts another record in.
A sharp pinch travels through his finger. It seemed like he accidentally pricked his finger on the needle. A small drop of blood forms and it falls onto the record.
He watches the red fall, and it turns black the instant it meets with the black disk.
Nauseated by this, he turns around and looks at the photographs, only to find that the black and white photo was missing.
There’s only
8 pictures now.
“Where did it go?”
Another picture catches his eye for a second. He can’t quite make out what it is with
his swirling vision.
He breaks into a sprint towards the stairs, and climbs onto the first step. His vision breaks out into a hazy mix of colors. The second his foot meets the steps, everything becomes more woozy. It’s like he’s being spun around.
The stairs twist and curl around the hall. His knees crash with the hard flooring. He can hardly breathe. It’s like something is squeezing the air out of his lungs, he’s suffocating. His limbs go numb and his fingers almost freeze
He doesn’t know why it’s happening at first. Then, the letters he encountered float into his memory.
“ZE”, printed as clear as ice in his mind.
The halls return to normal in a split second. His lungs ease and his muscles stiffen. It’s like nothing happened. He grabs the railing with his hands, using it as a support to stand up.
The hall returned to normal instantly, and his lungs eased. His arms and legs’ muscles became stiff again, and with the help of the railing, he stood up. He looks around him, it seems like nothings changed. It seems like he’s imagining things.
He runs upstairs, sprinting up the staircase. He returns to find the photographed wall. But now, there’s tem pictures. He takes a careful look at the newest picture.
It’s a human but at the same time it’s not. Golden eyes stare into his. It hovers to its prey, showing no emotion with its empty eyes. It shows no human thought, devoid of life.
And the worst part, the figure’s features looked exactly like his.