The Lord of Misrule

54 -- Behind the Curtain

Ada expected—no knew—disaster awaited them at the top of the stairs. They'd already been on these unknown stairs for longer than it'd taken to descend and she became certain they'd only find brick wall at the top.

Or a passage so narrow she would again have to guide Godric through by the hand. A slow task that would certainly end in them being caught up by masked men and shot down in the darkness.

Left to rot between the walls.

She was in the lead when the stairs ended before them and the veracity of her own premonition loomed like a statue. She almost slammed into it—a tunnel more narrow than what they'd come by.

"Oh no..." she moaned it, and when Godric stepped on the stair behind her she heard him sob through his teeth.

"Go first Ada," he moaned, "Take the valise and go first."

"What about you?" she moaned that too.

"I'll be fine—you've got to go! I hear footsteps coming behind us."

"But..."

"Go!" Godric roared this and she snatched the valise. Looked back at him to catch a glimpse of his eyes but he'd already turned to face the stairs.

"Cazzo!" she shouted and then started through.

Didn't look back and just focused on running as best she could. Halfway through she could resist it no more and glanced when there came an explosion of noise.

First a shout—a crack of the pistol following—and in one chaotic blinking second a form was on the stair with Godric. Angry brown above wild swinging arms. In one hunched motion Durst curled his body and met this dashing figure in a body-chuck.

Shoulder slammer hard into chest and his gun went off while he tried to bring it round but Dust kicked at him turning the already started motion into a tumbling pinwheel down the stair. Grabbed at the walls for support but slid from view around the central pillar of that spiral.

"Run!" as quick as that Godric was facing her again and with his eyes clamped he threw himself sideways into the narrow shaft with a sharp hiss of breath as though the brick had burned him.

She could hear him groaning and breathing hard as he came towards her in a sideways, lopsided run. She sprang forward with the leather valise pressed against her chest. There was no corner ahead, and soon they were at a flat section of wall with no other place to go.

"Stop!" she had to scream before Durst slammed into her like a train. She reached out then and began to feel for the switch.

The button was where they always were in this museum and it popped open. She slipped out into a darkroom full of paintings then, where along the opposite wall there stood a long curtain.

"Come on!" she breathed, and Godric almost fell flat before her instead of stepping out—he was a total mess.

Her own face and dress shirt were smeared with dust and dirt from the tunnels and Alan's attack, but his blue uniform was almost blackened from mixed dirt and blood on the front. His face was red and sweaty as though he'd just run a mile, but as soon as she hit the light switch his eyes opened, and he threw secret passage shut and leaned against the hatch, clutching his chest.

A glint of light appeared at the far end when he shut it—hammering feet too. Could almost feel the gun being aimed, eyes screwed up behind a brown ski-mask.

"We've got to go..." Durst panted it.

Ada ran for the door—it didn't open—it was locked!

She almost cried then, she could feel it welling up inside her as she twisted that knob with her other arm strained to breaking from the valise. Every moment expecting the passage to burst open, a pistol emptying itself into their skulls as she melted into goo on the floor.

This vanished in a metal-jangle. Durst was beside her then with keys in hand—she could've hugged him when he unlocked the door. They charged through—he slammed it and locked the door behind him.

"Oh..." Ada groaned it.

"Fuck!" Durst turned from her—looking out at the hall—there was a tremor in his voice. "Shit."

"Look..." said Ada.

"We're on the third floor!"

"What?"

"The third floor! We've got to get the fuck out of here."

"But look!" Ada almost screamed this, and Godric turned to her. He groaned too then when he saw. The curtains that had spanned the far wall of the room covered a plate glass window from floor to ceiling.

"It's okay," Durst shot. Fingers in hair.

"How!" screamed Ada.

"We'll leave this floor and we'll lock that door," he pointed towards the stairs. "There's no window there and it's opposite number across the floor is locked too..." Durst trailed off. His finger sank through the air until it rested at his side, still pointing.

"What?" spat Ada.

"That..." Durst moaned, the finger curled back up into his palm. An empty pedestal sat in the corner by the door.

Ada stared at this—shook her head in confusion. Godric however seemed to know something—and this filled him with dread.

"Has it happened already...?" he breathed. "Must've..."

Beyond the curtained window beside them there came a loud thud of someone smashing into a wall. Ada turned to it, and then back to Godric.

"So what!" she screamed, "Let's go! So someone knocked over some stupid vase or something! Let's fucking go!" this dragged into a moan, and she slid her fingers into his palm.

"Please! Please! Let's just go!"

His fingers crushed onto her hand and they started jogging once again—her legs sore and rebelling—but she had no choice. Another loud smash came from the room beyond the curtain.

"It's the third night..." Godric murmured this.

His eyes were locked on that empty pedestal when he opened the door, but when they passed through it his eyes locked on a new obsession. Gasped and pointed.

"What!?" snapped Ada. Her heart almost stopped too when she looked.

Up in the darkness—feet above the fourth floor landing the bust of some Roman Emperor sat in the sir. Perfectly still as though it were held by string. Yet there was nothing else. Only an alabaster head staring at the fourth floor.

"What...?" she began.

"It's starting..." murmured Durst "The third night... Everyone must leave the building. Must, must, must... Even the thieves. Even the murderers."

Glass shattered behind them and Ada fully shrieked and spun round. The window by the room they exited smashed inwards, and the curtain bulged out into the hall before being thrown aside and a head wrapped in brown ski mask appeared through it.

The face turned and locked eyes with her—Ada felt a hard, terrified and wheezing pant escape her lips. A noise of scuffing behind her and the door slammed shut, locked. A strong hand landed on her shoulder, and a familiar whisper in her ear.

"Come on!"

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1100 words.

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