Rules of Survival | afi

night five

We are made of all those
who have built and broken us.

-Atticus
•••

After a few minutes of me and Ashton just sitting on the old floor regaining our composure, I finally get to my feet.

Our clothes have mostly dissolved at this point, resorting to scraps of fabric similar to Swiss cheese. I kick them off to the side as Ashton gets up to join me.

"Well." I mutter, looking around the place. "First order of business is to find new clothes."

Not that I mind seeing Ashton in his underwear.

He glances at our now strikingly more bare bodies, his eyebrows raised. He's still got blood all over his face and neck. Mixed with the burns on his chest, he looks kind of like a psychopath.

"Yeah." He says, a little breathless. "Yeah, definitely."

The mansion itself seems to be about two stories, with a big doming ceiling and twin staircases snaking up the walls from either side of the room. Most of the bottom floor is open, with molding couches and pages of books scattered across the floor. The floor is black checkered tiles, the walls red velvet. Two identical doors lie underneath both staircases, one presumably the kitchen, the other I have no idea.

The whole place seems to be out of the 1980s. It's hauntingly beautiful, and no doubt incredibly old.

Now that we've been in it for more than five minutes, there's no doubt in my mind that it's empty. My instinct, which has never failed me, tells me so. There's no hairs standing up on the back of my neck that tell me someone's watching us, no creaks from upstairs to indicate footsteps. We are alone.

"Bedrooms are probably upstairs." Ashton says, squinting at the large balcony above us. The rain is coming down even harder now, pounding against the roof of the mansion, the windows streaked with black.

In answer, I make my way over to the staircase on the right. It's significantly warmer in here than it is outside, but it's still chilly, and I wrap my arms around myself as I take the first step. They're sturdy, but still give off a loud creak every time I move up until I'm stepping onto the hardwood floors of the second story.

I go into the first door I see, hearing Ashton close behind me.

It was a bedroom, that's for sure. A massive bed sits in the middle of the room, covered in red sheets that must have once been silk but have withered away with time. The closet is two large oak doors, and it takes both me and Ashton tugging at the same time to finally pull them open.

Thankfully, we have a little luck on our side today. Old clothes sag from the shelves and hangers, covered in cobwebs but still in decent condition. There's even a few machetes and some more first aid kits in the back corner, the only new items in the batch.

I take what appears to be an old tuxedo off the wrack.

"Here." I say, holding it out to Ashton. If we're gonna be stuck here for a while, the least I can do is lighten the mood. "You can look fancy while stabbing people."

He shakes his head, laughing. "Why would anyone want to look fancy while committing murder?"

"So you can slay in more ways than one." I throw the tux at his chest, moving to go through the clothes some more. I come up with a beautiful white lace dress that probably used to be a long gown, but moths and age wore at the hem over time so that now it only comes to just above my ankles. I hold it up, spreading it over my body and cracking a grin. "See?"