Like a Hostage • Dreambur || English

🌨⒏ Insanely irrational

🌨

He gulped and took one step, his eyes never leaving the bell he had seen moving, afraid of loosing it in all the other bells that hung near it.

He was careful on his feet, not wanting to touch any of the hanging objects, his breath hitching as any slight movement could cause them to start ringing. It wasn't that long, but it was longer than any of the other rooms he's been in, maybe the length of two rooms together, blinking a few times once he was right in front of the one that rang before.

His hand reaches up to grab it, hanging at eye level. It was the same size as most, it didn't have anything special, nothing different from the others, nothing that would make it stand out. That is, until he turned it, a small paper was glued to it, it was tiny had words on it, made of black ink and messy handwriting.

—"30 minutes east.." he read on a whisper, that was all it said. He frowned as he stared at the words, what did this mean? what was it for?
He knew Wilbur was smart, but if this place was meant to be just for him then this didn't have to be that complicated right? he had so many questions, and no one to answer them.

Or so he thought.

Something flickered on the corner of his eye, turning to the window and noticing an object on the frame, the light from the sun making it shine. He stepped closer, seeing a compass placed there, it looked old, but it was almost intact, some small scratches then and there, but nothing big, so he carefully took it. Anything in this room could be a trap, anything could happen, it was hidden from him for a reason.

The red arrow pointed to himself, raising an eyebrow to turn around and his eyes widened; Every single bell had a paper with directions and times, something that would go unnoticed if seen from the door's perspective, right where the compass was pointing at.
What a tricky joke.
Who would do something like this? Finding a way to make every bell face the right direction so their labels were away from simple sight.

His eyes tried to read the times and directions, but there were too many words, too many bells, too much confusion flooding his brain. He frantically started looking all around the room, holding tight on the compass and closing his eyes shut tightly, it was too unsettling, too.. weird.

Ring.

No, he couldn't open his eyes.

Ring.

The bells are ringing.

Ring.

Why are they ringing.

Ring.

He felt a single drop of sweat fall down his face, frustration getting to him. What was happening?

Ring.

WHY ARE THEY RINGING.

Ring.

He fell to his knees, putting his hands on his ears to stop the noise.

Ring.

The sharp sound of bells echoed in his brain, from too man directions, too many times, too many bells in every corner of the room.