Chapter 3 - Horrors Present, Horrors Past

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Taking a deep breath, Luigi pushed off from the door he'd just closed and straightened. Alright, come on, Luigi, he thought. You can do this.

   After fleeing the entrance in favor of the other upstairs door, Luigi had found himself in a small dead-end hallway. There were several doors lined up and down on either side; interestingly, the two on the left were different, decorated with engraved patterns of hearts and stars on them. Luigi wondered what they could mean.

   Since the brutal destruction of the chandelier, all had seemed quiet; so with a now slightly recovered resolve Luigi headed for the first door on his right.

   Peeking inside, he found it surprisingly warm and dim within. A low fire burned in the fireplace, as if someone had recently been here and might at any second return. Looking around with the flashlight, Luigi soon found that it was a study or library; a giant wall of books surrounded the fireplace from floor to ceiling, with a sliding ladder leaned up against one wall. There was also a writing desk and a big inviting rocking chair.

   Pausing, Luigi glanced around cautiously, then let himself in. For a moment he looked around silently, thinking that he should try elsewhere; it was then that he spotted the first ghosts.

   They weren't exactly the ghosts he had encountered previously; instead it was more of those little colorful things - Luigi thought of them as flying fish - and some more slightly bigger ones that were completely white. Looking carefully closer, Luigi suddenly realized what they were.

   Boos were not an unfamiliar creature to Luigi. He and his brother had been fighting them for as long as he could remember; but never had Luigi seen any this tiny. Now, they seemed almost as harmless and carefree as the flying fish they mingled with, lingering around in air aimlessly.

   Carefully, Luigi inched closer and took out his vacuum, feeling the braver because he was at a size advantage. Seizing the nozzle, he had soon cleaned all of them up.

   He was just about to turn away and head somewhere else - Mario obviously didn't appear to be in here - when his eyes caught sight of an open book left lying out on the desk. Instantly curious, he paused and looked at it with a skimming eye. It was some sort of diary.

   January 8, it read. Shivers the butler finally lost it today. The old coot had a breakdown outside the conservatory and apparently died from heart failure. We all know it likely wasn't as simple as that... but no one is complaining. We have enough tragedies to lament as it is.
   Someone was trampled by one of the master's horses last week on the grounds with an apparently fatal blow to the head. Shortly after that the boys went. I don't know the reason for it... but for some reason it's difficult to care.
   Lydia has since been insane. She now spends all day in front of her mirror and hoarding cash, insisting she'll need it soon. What for, I have no clue.
   The rest of the staff and most of the others have quickly trickled off day by day. After Sue's unfortunate passing, people have stopped caring. It is strange... but none of us feel a desire to keep this up the way it is anymore.
   We buried her out by the path. She wished for eternal rest, but if she'll really get it is beyond any of us.
   Mr. Luggs, as we had all expected for months, also bit it not too long ago. Even the old guard dog went shortly after the chef stopped giving him the leftovers. I imagine he'll find something else to eat soon enough out by the boneyard.
   Everyone out here has been odd - even myself - since that day. Or perhaps it was even before then; sometimes Melody insists that the mansion speaks to her. Silent whispers, echoes of a brighter past; and a darker, uncertain future.
   Nana went in her chair, working her needles to the last. Slim hasn't come out of the billiards room for days - no one has thought much else of him. And Jarvis, the hunter and that old foolish artist have been locked up in the attic even longer. Sometimes I wonder if they're the wiser for all this.
   Shadows linger at every corner - things that weren't always there before. Sometimes it even seems as if there are strange people in the mansion. Wisps of those running and wandering, from another time and another place, as if they've lost their way. Unfamiliar and odd... yet they seem to be afraid of something I cannot quite perceive. What does it all mean?
  I have lost hold of what is existence anymore. There is something terribly wrong in this place, I know...We need some sort of order in this forsaken mansion... a king...
   I heard that someone stole the chef's best knives earlier. It feels strange, but I am calm... such an ordeal does not feel out of the ordinary.
   I have been so caught up with Lydia's fits lately. Ever since we found the bitter truth she has been prone to moan and cry; the child's room has been waiting empty since she can't stand to redecorate. I still thought I heard noises in there earlier.
   Come to think of it, I thought I heard Lydia screaming earlier... but I'll figure it out eventually. I'm sure I already know what happened.
   Why does it hardly matter? Why does no one care??
   We are trapped... all of us are caught. Others come but nothing changes. They only ensure that we are all lost...
   Will this ever end? Or is it already ending?
   I am not sure of anything anymore. I only know we will continue here until someone plays his new game...
   Will he save us? Can he save himself..?
   Please... please... come let us free...

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