The ballroom was empty. Let them keep searching, Bleak thought as he flicked on the lights. This appeared to be the largest room in the house. Or maybe only the emptiest. Either way, something about the ambiance here made Bleak feel comfortable. Separated. The floor was tiled marble, blue and white. Like the floors in an Arabian palace. The walls were adorned with golden curtains far larger than the windows they covered.
Bleak shut the door--though it could not be locked--and made his way to the center of the room. He remembered he and Wendy would pass this room often on their visits. She'd always wanted to dance with him. He'd always refused.
Come on, she'd say. I won't laugh. But she was laughing even as she said it, so he knew she would. Still, he recalled the passion in her eyes. Not a desire to dance, but a desire to dance with him. Her thin lips would fold back into a smile, and Bleak would shy away and keep walking. Let's go back, Bleak would say. I left my dancing shoes at home, anyway.
Wendy would follow him out smiling, but Bleak knew. He knew that she was disappointed because she wanted it more than anything. She'd even brought it up before her death, he remembered. You owe me a dance, she'd said.
He'd failed her so many times, even on the day of her death.
He turned in the room, fretting the pain in his heart. There was a chandelier in this room as well, hanging over him in mock dominion. There's nowhere to be alone in this house, he thought. He wondered where Wendy was right now. The occurrences in this house had proved to him that there was life after death, in some form or another.
Maybe she's here, the chilling thought came. His eyes darted around the room again. Coldly, slowly, the hair on his arms stirred erect. Bleak began to shuffle his feet about the tiled floor, listening to the high-pitched sound the soles of his shoes made as they licked the marble. His hands floated up as if he were holding an invisible person.
"I owe you a dance," he whispered.
He twirled, dipped, slid across the floor, his eyes closed. He imagined classical music in his mind. He kept his hands curled; let the knuckles of his fingers stiffen with familiarity. The touch. The chill.
Wendy was here. He believed it.
He lost himself in a blind dance, tottering at times, nearly bumping against the wall on some turns. Spinning, he let the chandelier guide him around the room; he let the tiles be his map. Bleak took a shaky breath and found that it came too easily, felt his mouth shut like a fly trap. He knew it was the start of another breakdown even before the tears came crumbling down his face. His lower lip throbbed rapidly, his hands felt weak. Yet, on he danced.
"I owe you a dance..." he said again, this time hating the way his voice melted.
Instantly, Bleak collapsed to the ground. He was shaking rabidly. "Oh God," he cried. "Wendy... Wendy... Wendy... I miss you so much."
With his eyes shut tight, he didn't even notice the chandelier lights flickering on and off.
***
Victoria's hand jerked up and down, slowly, as to not damage the electricity indefinitely. Stalling, she left the light on this time and removed her hand from the switch. She glanced around the room. Her stomach growled, and she pressed her weary hands on it.
There had to be a way out.
She approached the desk and examined the tools in the box. Wrenches, drills, a hammer, screwdrivers. She picked up the drill. She popped in the largest drill bit she could find and plugged in the cord to the outlet nearest the door. When she pulled the trigger, she heard the drill roar and vibrate in her hand and the tip spun to a blur. Positioning herself, she angled the drill against the door and pulled the trigger. The drill slipped against the surface, so she tried again. This time, it caught against the wood and began piercing through. Even if she couldn't get through, maybe they would hear it if they were just outside. It was a long shot, but she had to try.
It didn't take long before the drill was submerged to its maximum depth. But it wasn't enough. She figured she was maybe halfway through. They probably couldn't hear it, even if they were just outside.
Slouching, she lowered the drill. Hunger was consuming her every thought... She thought about the mouse again and flung the thought away. She had to focus if she wanted to get out.
Victoria stood and went to search for the key again. Even if Bleak took one, there was a chance that there was a copy key somewhere. There had to be. This is what she told herself to keep her body searching. She checked below the desk and above the shelves lining the walls. There were books here too; as if the library didn't have enough books. Victoria began pulling and tossing the books off the shelves, hoping that perhaps the key was hidden there, or in one of the books. She was growing desperate. And her stomach was gnawing with hunger.
Look on the bright side, she told herself. You're out of the chair and out of darkness. It was true; she hadn't even hoped for this much, but still, there was the issue of food.
She heard a high-pitched squeal and turned. The mouse was stalled in the corner of a bookshelf. Victoria's breathing faltered and she rolled her eyes to the knife on the table. She knew the mouse had a hole to which it could escape through. But what if she caught it first?
Victoria took a small step towards the mouse and it flinched. When she took another step, the mouse bolted away behind the book shelf.
"Shit!" she muttered, nearly tripping over some papers on the floor. She stepped over them and crept closer to the bookshelf. The floor was sticky, dirty, and her sandals made a ripping sound as she walked. She looked behind the shelf, her cheek pressed against the soggy wall. Through the slit of darkness, she could still see the mouse, just sitting there; its tail facing her. She retracted her head and grinned. There was no hole for him, after all. He was cornered back there.
Victoria stood in front of the shelf again and estimated the weight to pin-point how much energy she'd have to exert. She figured she could do it.
Positioning her hands, she grabbed both ends of the shelf near the bottom and took in a deep breath. Her feet were stamped in a perfect arch, ready to pounce.
Counting to three, she pushed the shelf against the wall as hard as she could. It slammed hard and she thought she heard a sound. She had to have killed it. There was no way it could survive that.
Victoria moved to the side again to peer in, but when she did, the mouse was gone.
"Damn it!" she shouted. "No, no. Shit!" She pounded at the shelf and bumped her forehead against its surface. What was she going to do? She was going to starve in here if she didn't find any food soon. And water posed a larger threat. She looked around the room. She hadn't realized how thirsty she'd been. Where could she find water?
Victoria began skirting the walls, looking for anything she'd missed. Her lips retracted to a smile when she noticed the air conditioner in the room. She approached it and lowered herself. At first, she didn't see anything and her heart sank. Then, she saw the knob that controlled the temperature, and rotated it to the coldest setting. Maybe if the unit got cold enough, the air would condensate to water and start to leak out. She'd seen it happen before, in hotel rooms when she'd gone on vacation with her parents.
In a few minutes, to the left of the unit, there it was! It wasn't much, but the unit was dripping water on the floor. She could collect it in a container and drink it. For the time being, she lay on the ground with her head posted beneath the A/C and let the slow, miniscule drops plummet into her mouth. Most of them landed on her tongue. She felt excitement as each cold drop landed; her veins felt electric at the touch. She started to feel disoriented and got up. She felt the soggy urine cushioning her underwear and grimaced. Before even attempting to find a usable container, she removed her pajamas and then her undies, tossing the wet mess to a corner in the room. She replaced on her pajamas; it was still wet and gross, but the underwear was the worst of it.
Victoria found a glossy mug on the desk. It would suffice. She placed the mug under the dripping unit and waited. Okay, she thought. The water situation is solved. Now I need some food in me. She knew the mouse was still her best bet, but she hadn't seen one in half an hour. Forget the stupid mouse! her mind shouted. We need to find a way out of here! Victoria felt her scalp itching with pending insanity. She couldn't bear staying in this room for another minute.
In a state of frenzied panic, Victoria began knocking all the books off the shelves and tossing the drawers over. The books came down like a waterfall. Flapping in their descent, they tumbled over the floor; some of them landing closed, most of them landing open to some forgotten page. She pushed over the last shelf and had to jump out of the way as it came folding heavily over. It crashed to the ground, pulling the cord to the only lamp in the room. The lamp was tugged and smashed on the ground. The sound of crumbling glass came with a bright flash.
Then darkness.
You stupid moron, she thought chillingly. Now you're dead for sure.
"Now we can be alone," a voice whispered in the darkness. Victoria couldn't tell if the voice was feminine or masculine.
Her muscles felt like they'd turned to bone. "Who's there?" she said.
The voice didn't answer. She knew she hadn't imagined it. It was real; it was across the room, not in her head.
A scratching sensation filled the inside of her chest, her lungs, as she found one of the sagging walls. I need to find the circuit breaker, she thought. I need to keep trying to warn them. She was walking very slowly, afraid, because she was going in the direction where she'd heard the voice. But she knew the fuse box was there. She fought away the dark thoughts, but each time she flung them, they were launched back into her mind like leeches.
She found the fuse box, and sighed in relief. She already knew which switch to pull, and pulled it down. Waited a second--then up. Then down.
Then up.
"We're alone at last," the voice whispered again, this time closer to her ear.
Victoria's hands began trembling profusely, her teeth clapping together rapidly. She felt hollow and freezing inside, her spine had run away.
She pulled the switch down. It felt heavier this time. Or she felt weaker.
"Alone at longg last."
Ignore the voice, she thought numbly. Keep pulling. They'll come rescue you soon. Bleak will come, or they'll make him spit out the truth.
She pulled the switch up.
Why did it have to be this dark? she thought. Why this insanely dark?
Lever down.
The voice wasn't talking now, but she heard it breathing. Shaky, slow breaths. Louder and louder, until she felt the cold breathe tickling the back of her neck. She tightened and almost screamed. But she didn't scream. At least, not yet.
It was when she pulled the switch up again, and felt a hand come over her own--a cold hand, like frozen plastic--that's when she screamed.
***
"Not the damn lights again," Michael said, looking ahead at the chandelier from atop the staircase.
They'd just finished searching the entire second floor and were making their rendezvous downstairs in the main hall. Earlier, the group had split in two--Winston and the girls, and Kevin with his posse. Winston had trailed behind Sasha for the majority of the time, evidently sending the message that he was upset with her and still hadn't forgiven her for her fling with Kevin. Sasha got it, but she didn't bother to let him know that. If he wanted to be a child, it was fine by her. But she had too many real problems to worry about him right now.
"It's coming back on," Geo said, hopeful. They hurried downstairs and watched as the chandelier blinked on and off numerous times. About every five seconds or so, the room would shift from light to dark.
"What's going on?" Sasha asked.
Winston's eyes shifted to all the lamps in the room. The timing was too measured, too exact to be an electrical malfunction. He wondered aloud. "Is it Abner?" he said.
They looked at him.
"To scare us?" Michael said. "It isn't even scary."
"Not after everything we've seen," Geo agreed.
Michael looked nervous as he took a few steps towards Kevin. He tapped him on the shoulder.
"What is it?" Kevin asked turning.
"It's about Bleak," he said.
Kevin's face shifted to anger. "What about him?"
"Look," Mike said. "I can't say for sure, back when Bleak told us that Victoria was dead, I remember going downstairs...to get water...and I saw Bleak. I didn't see him coming from outside though."
"Why are you telling us this now?" Kevin asked.
"Well because I didn't think that was sufficient evidence to blame him for a crime like that..." Mike started, but truthfully it was because he was still feeling guilty about Wendy and wanted to make it up to Bleak. But if there was even a chance that Victoria was alive, he had to tell them now. "...but," he continued, "I think it might be possible...that he did something to Victoria. Because right when I saw him was about the same time the lights came back on. And now this."
"So you think he knows where the circuit breaker is?"
"I think it's a possibility."
Kevin stepped closer, to the center of the room, until he was standing beneath the chandelier. He looked up, hopeful. "And you think Victoria's shifting the lights."
Mike was silent.
Ashley looked at him. Sasha shook her head. "But..." she started. She didn't know how it could be possible, but she couldn't disprove it, either.
"Maybe she's trapped somewhere. Like a basement. That's where circuit breakers usually are, right?"
Geo nodded. "Hey, he's right."
"Let's check the wine cellar again," Kevin said. "Maybe we missed something there."
This caught Michael's attention immediately. He blinked and made a sound from the edge of his throat.
"What?" Kevin asked him.
Mike debated on keeping his mouth shut and letting them find Emily's corpse themselves, or steering them away from the cellar. What if he left some evidence behind? Something that would prove he'd been down there with Emily's body? Or what if she said so herself? What if she ratted him out? That would ruin him.
"I don't remember seeing any fuse box in the cellar," Mike said.
"Well, we should check again just to be sure."
"But I didn't see Bleak coming from that direction." Mike tried again. "I was in the kitchen getting water, remember? I saw him as I was going back upstairs. I know for a fact he wasn't in the wine cellar."
Kevin pursed his lips and nodded. "Okay then. Let's go find Bleak and set the record straight then."
Mike felt relief surge through him. Ashley took a step closer to the open ballroom door. The lights were on as she walked in. Turning, she looked at the group and they looked at her in return. Their stares spoke something to her, but she couldn't tell what. Walking in, her hands suddenly stiffened.
"Oh my God," she choked out. Her hands gripped her mouth. She eased with backward steps. She bumped into Kevin as he and the others walked in. They came to a halt.
"Holy fuck," Geo said.
"Get everyone upstairs," Kevin ordered, his eyes fixed ahead of him.
No one moved.
Bleak was standing in the center of the room, smiling. His eyes were rolled back to look like tiny boiled eggs. Kevin saw his hoodie discarded to the side of the room. There was a trail of blood leading to it. Bleak's hands were behind his back. He started to chuckle, making a ghastly sound with his throat. Like a frog; he sucked in the air and laughed.
Then, as his hands came forth, they saw that he was holding a gun. The group froze, Sasha gasped.
"Bleak," Kevin said, holding his arms out as if to prepare for a blow.
The gun was raised to Bleak's sweaty temple.
"No, Bleak!" Ashley said.
"Look...at...you...all," Bleak said. His voice was foreign. He croaked the words, again, like a frog. "You..don't...gget it, do you?"
Bleak cocked the gun. "I ownn you nnow. You're mine bitches foreverr. I'm ggoing to kill you all oone by onee."
Kevin's eyes widened. "I know this isn't Bleak. I know this is Abner Ashmore speaking."
Bleak began laughing. "I know this is Abner Ashhhmore speaking, please and thank you very mmuch," he mocked. "If I were Abner Ashmoree, would I do tthis?"
Before they could stop him, the trigger was pulled and a loud shot echoed in the dry room. Chunks of Bleak's brain splattered on the marble ground, right near his sweater.