The desk was of a large size, with only some pens set in a stand and awaiting use, the rest of the desk being vacant, even of papers and a placard. It was made with an expensive looking wood and was left with only treatment. He marveled at the red of the wood, continuing to spread his amazement when took in the back wall. Shelves upon shelves were filled with books of all sizes and colors, differing ages from ancient to fresh f the press. He moved farther in, taking in the sight with a hitch in his breath as he saw the shelves extend even more. The room had chairs spread to certain points, usually in corners or around the one table at the end of the room. Daniel suspected that the length ran to the front of the house. He then saw the that there was a walkway along the top of the room with a ladder reaching it. The amount of books continued to impress in just how many there could be.

Never had he seen a library so large that also happened to be completely private. He wondered how many books were here and how long it would take him if he did nothing else but read them, appropriating their contents for his own. He shook his head violently for a few seconds, pushing the idea of staying to read instead of exploring a bit more out of his mind. He still wanted to see what else there was in the house, leaving with depression in his step. Soon enough, he reassured himself. He closed the doors that he followed in, not wanting to tempt himself while he had places to see.

He turned around, eyeing another door attached to the end of a section of wall that was jutting out from the rest of itself. He went over, uneasy with seeing what lay hidden within. He pulled the door open and saw a set of stairs leading down into darkness. He figured this are to be a cellar or basement, but the mundane name was not fitting for what he thought it felt like: nothingness. The rest of the house was filled with light and could easily be navigated but this room… this room seemed to require a set of high-power lights just to begin piercing the darkness. He closed the door, not wanting to go anywhere near it without at least a crowd of people accompanying him. He pushed it out of his mind, the existence of the room sending shivers across his body.

Now’s a good time to look upstairs, he thought, putting the idea into motion with a single step. He climbed the stairs on the den side of the mansion, the carpet beneath his feet making every step feel soft. It brought comfort to him, if only subconsciously. He saw doors set in a proper placement, spaced evenly around the mansion for the second floor. He checked the door closest to the front of the house on the side of the den, unable to make it budge in any capacity. He threw himself at it, bound and determined to see what was to be kept hidden from him. It didn’t even rattle in it’s frame, steadfast beyond his comprehension. He stopped, hurting his shoulder from the fourth attempt. He cursed the door, checking it’s neighbor.

The door moved much open much more easily. He had been prepared to shoulder the door but the fact that it opened so easily disarmed him and made him begin to question if it was okay to enter. He stood in the doorway, observing that the room had three beds, each spread apart evenly along one wall, the feet facing him. The beds were just as unique as the chairs in the dining room. He wondered if the two were related in some way, brushing it aside as he felt something in the room. There was a presence, but not one that he knew to be from a person occupying the room. He couldn’t put it to words, but it felt comfortable, almost as if it wished no true ill will toward him. He closed the door, wishing not to intrude any further than he had.

He checked the neighbor and also encountered a similar situation. The beds were only set at two, but the properties they had were just as different as the last. Here, the presence seemed to be intrigued by him. He moved on, checking two more doors and seeing that the room beside the last had a similar set up with the design of the beds, though the rooms still varied between two and three beds. The presence he felt in each was just as different, yet they all wished no true evil against him from what he could feel. He came to the last door, unsure of what he would see on the other side. He prepared himself for another bedroom.

He pushed it open and saw… a crib, a rocking chair not too far from it while facing a window. He felt great sadness emanating from the room, putting more and more weight on his shoulders as he looked inward. He stared outside, the sun lower than it had been since his arrival. He could almost hear a baby’s cry from the crib. He took one step in, looking in each corner to find out if the room was truly as barren as it seemed. He saw to his right, hidden in the corner that was itself hiding behind the door, a mobile. It looked ancient, hand-made even, but its age was not reflected in its decay (of which there was none) but instead in its design. The crib was just as affected as the mobile. The rocking chair was a different story altogether. It looked ready to become dust at any second. He left, wishing to never step foot near the room for awhile yet.

A leather couch stood steadfast in what seemed a comfortable distance from the stonework fireplace, awaiting to accommodate a person or animal wishing to be warm. The fireplace even looked prepared to receive logs for a nice-sized fire without a speck of ash on the ground. Daniel made a mental note to try the fireplace tonight if he felt up to it. The tools used to tend to the area were of a bright polish with a metal he couldn’t believe would be used in it’s construction. Surely the gold was just paint or brass hitting the sunlight just so. This led to the epiphany that few windows were open to the sun and the room stood so bright as to be standing outside in the very day itself. He looked around expecting to not see an ounce of modern electricity, surprising himself when he eyed a light-switch. A flick later and the chandelier in the center of the ceiling lit up.

Might be a generator, he noted, hoping he wouldn’t have to deal with it at some point. The switch resumed the position he found it in for he didn’t want to waste potential fuel. The wallpaper as a whole looked ancient and yet, the stripes of light green and cream with beige tulips scattered about were in far too excellent a condition. The two opposing states of the wallpaper were worthy of ponderment as to their coexistence, but now was not the time. He made his way out of the atrium, peeking into each room to check what lay in store should he visit them later.

He discovered a recreation room, holding only a couple of leather chairs that were stained black with pine legs. The rest of the room was barren barring a flower vase devoid of anything. Next came another such room, dedicated entirely to billiards games. Each cue was in its place, racks hung up with care, balls set on the table in perfect order, but the table itself differed drastically from the rest of it’s neighbors. It looked ready to give out should he even dare to entertain the idea of looking at it. He left, not wishing to intrude on the peace of the room. As he walked, he wondered who originally owned the manor, who would have such deep pockets to build rooms so big and barely having anything inside. He looked back on each room, noticing with hindsight that each was the size of a small apartment, being comfortable enough that you could build three rooms should walls be erected in each.

Then came the kitchen, of glorious size to any needing a place to prepare a feast fit for three kings. He marveled at the size, the feeling of being lost even at the entrance overwhelming all other senses. The tables, stoves, ovens, and all other manner of devices and places made for creating culinary delights looked new enough, even if the models were ones that could date to an earlier time. He couldn’t see past a corner of the room, spotting a table that told him the corner existed to hide an unknown side of this room from his position. He moved in farther, farther, his legs transporting him of their own free will, until he could see around the corner. The hidden side was in deep disrepair, time showing it’s ugly side for hose willing and brave enough to see. He left, making sure no door was on the ugly side so that he may wander in never through what was very well rotted and cold at just the sight alone.

The kitchen done with, he went into the dining room, the table laid out with a cloth glorious in its very design, the stitch-work meticulous and perfect. There were small set pieces spaced evenly across the table, whether they were candelabras, dishes with covers on them, or even pitchers covered in ornate designs. There were thirteen chairs surround the table with one at each end and the rest spread around the table, the odd chair placed on the side opposite of him. Every chair was absolutely unique in its design, each made with a different wood, lacquer, and, in the case of some, paint, than the last. He studied the seats, still in awe of the queerness of the mansion. He moved on, still wishing to see what else awaited him.

He saw a set of doors placed to the east of the dining room. Curiosity got the better of him, drawing him to those doors until he stood before them, hand poised to open them. He paused, unsure of what to expect the second the doors opened. He braced himself for a sight that could sight that was worse than the hidden portion of the kitchen. Inside was a room that had a desk, with a chair behind it and two in front. The one behind was covered in a fabric he knew not, an intricate design sewn into it that he couldn’t begin to describe. The chairs in front were covered in leather, brown and having seen some use, though the leather only seemed to be quite crisp in how good the finish was.

Tumblr 的新登录页，有种莫名的感动

“I know you’re out there,” he called to the emptiness. Nothing. “I said show yourselves. It’s not funny.” He waited again. He was losing patience. He yelled a few more choice words of obscene and explicit description, even delving into territory regarding whoever devised the prank and their mother. Nothing. The letter had to be real by this point. He could run out and test that loop he read about but decided against it.

“All these years and this is what I’m left,” he mumbled to himself. I get a manor that just hates me for the reason of coming in. Damn, never thought I’d be this lucky, he thought to himself. More than anything, h–

His stomach rumbled. He looked at the time on his phone, seeing he hadn’t eaten anything since breakfast. He got up, leaving the letter on the table along with the will. He ventured back into the kitchen, wary of the other end. He found the larder and started to see what could be made, figuring out what he wanted for dinner. He felt like the fox that had too many choices, unable to choose what sounded good as well as easy. This was compounded with his feelings of how to treat the letter and will. He just grabbed some random bits of food and left, sure that if he was still hungry, he could eat some more.

He finished what he grabbed from the larder, barely a few swigs of water from a case in there as well. He looked at his phone, seeing how far into the evening it was. The time on the phone and the position of the sun were not able to reconcile, with the sun being much lower than it should have been at this time of year. He began to feel a light sleep come over him, the temptations of dreams seducing him. He heard his father’s words in the back of his mind, screaming at him to ignore his desires, to heed the warning. Daniel thought that just few minutes of shut-eye wouldn’t hurt too much. That sounded reasonable enough. Just a few minutes. He went to the couch in the entrance room and promptly slept, greeted warmly with dreams.

He heard a feminine scream, forcing his sleep to end abruptly. He sat up on the ouch, unsure if it was just in his head or if he heard it from somewhere in the mansion. He waited, waited, the time slipping by. He could hear the ticking of a clock coming from somewhere, unable to pinpoint it. He went to rub his eyes, halting when he saw a paper in his hand. The wording on it was simple and written hastily giving it a chill that would be undeserved anywhere else. It read: Don’t go when she beckons. Stay near door. He folded it and went ahead with his first action for his eyes.

He started to check his pockets for his phone, forgetting that he had set everything within on the dining room table. He went to grab his things, hearing what he presumed to be a grandfather clock doling its knowledge of the time. The place was lit, despite him seeing every curtain available closed. He saw the doors closed for the room. He knew they shouldn’t have been closed since he didn’t do it and no one else was here. He could see through the glass doors that his possessions were there, just as he left them. He tried to move the doors, unable to budge either one. He started to panic, knowing he was no longer alone.

He moved away, fear starting to settle in. The contents of the letter came back to the forefront of his mind. He had to face it all. He began looking to see which doors could be opened when he heard a baby’s cry come from the nursery. He moved slowly, the sound of it’s crying faint in his ears. He went up the stairs, the sounds coming from the location he suspected getting louder and louder. He stopped outside the nursery, unprepared to face the contents within. His hand grasped the doorknob. He could feel how cool it was as he held it, unable to bring himself to truly turn it as he worried more and more.

Time to face the music, he thought, willing his hand to crank the knob. He felt it move without issue, the door moving inside without a creak or any effort, almost as if it had a mind of its own. The crying had stopped. He looked inside, seeing a woman facing away from him and toward the open window. There was only darkness as the night had set in, not an ounce of true light in the room save for the open door. The chair she was in rocked back forth, gently swaying with the push of her feet. The chair looked to be in brand new condition, something he hadn’t expected in the slightest. The room had changed. The crib was blue, something he knew couldn’t be since he saw it without any paint. Or was it? he thought to himself.