#so that's something...

“Oh, sorry, I didn't mean to scare you,” Helter caught sight of the voice’s owner; a tall woman, her brunette hair cut short.

“No, you're.. alright,” he exhaled, “I'm assuming you’re here for..”

“The ‘event’?” The woman finished for him, “yeah, I am. Mysterious, don't you think? The fact that there was no other information about it on the invite, not even a dress code.”

“Yeah, odd.” It was then that Helter registered her accent, “you aren't from around here.”

“Neither are you,” she was quick to point out, her brow cocking upwards slightly, “I'm from New Jersey.”

“Ah,” Helter looked back towards the manor, only to realise that the woman was waiting for him to give his own answer, “oh, uh, Sweden. I'm Helter, by the way.” he held his hand out.

The woman smiled, and shook his hand, “Amanda.” There was a pause, “we should probably go - the ‘event’ starts in five.”

Helter muttered his agreement, before the two hurried to the large oak door, knocking on it a few times.

[WAYNE MANOR LOBBY - 15:00]

There were ten other people, besides Helter and Amanda, in the lobby with them. Every single person had wildly different outfits - was that woman in a stola?

Helter eyed the group of three elderly looking individuals who were engaged in a hushed, yet panicked, conversation. Well, it was more like two of them were having the conversation while one of them was making random noises at the side of them. There was a tall gangly man standing just behind the elderly woman in a red plaid shirt, he was fidgeting nervously and his dungarees were stained with dirt.

The woman in the stola was calmly talking to a man in - what Helter could only describe as - victorian era clothing. He watched the man's face contort from concern to a sort-of understanding.

On the other side of the lobby there was another man who stood talking to two women, all three of them enthusiastically talking about something. Probably something to do with water, judging by one of the woman's hand gestures.

Helter turned to Amanda, only to find she wasn't beside him anymore. He saw her dart towards another woman, and followed close behind.

“Oh, I love your dress!” Amanda exclaimed, and the woman's dress was a spectacle - floor lengthed, black and red, almost gothic in style.

The woman's pale cheeks turned rose, “thank you darling,” she also had a heavy European accent, similar to Helter’s but not quite the same, “my personal seamstress made it for me, Hechenem, I think her name is.”

“It's stunning!” Helter could almost see stars in her eyes, “I'm Amanda, by the way.”

“Esmeralda,” her smile was warm.

Helter idly noticed that the man who was engaged in the conversation about water had vanished.

[WAYNE MANOR LOBBY - 15:38]

Helter didn't know much about etiquette, but he supposed that the host - or at least the manor staff - would have arrived by now. But at least he had time to briefly meet all of the other guests, apart from one - Tarquin, he had been told that was his name.

Helter was absolutely terrified of Ethel, there was something about her that totally unnerved him. Margaery was strange, she seemed nice and quite protective over Derek, but she heard Tracy call her old, Helter will definitely not call her old any time soon. Rumpled was nice too, apparently coming from a different time - the same goes for John Jacob and Juliet, all three of them just as confused as each other. Poppy was almost as nervous as Derek, and she clutched a plaid bandana like a lifeline. Amanda stuck by Esmeralda for the most part, she was transfixed be everything about her.

Helter was talking to Poppy - her bandana supposedly belonged to her best friend, who was a sheep, who, from Poppy's description, acted too much like a human. He heard one of the doors slam open, and Helter was expecting Mr. Wayne, but was instead met with a panicked looking man, his eyes wide and frantic. The room fell silent (apart from Ethel, she cheered for some reason).

The man, and Helter assumed this was Tarquin, panted, “I got lost,” he began, but stopped to take a few breaths, “and I went into the wrong room- and then I did it again- and-”

Rumpled stepped forward, “calm down, breathe,” he said, taking cautious steps towards Tarquin.

“What do you mean ‘wrong room’?” Margaery pressed, she earned a warning glance from Rumpled who was clearly trying to calm the panicked man down.

Tarquin inhaled, and exhaled, “I saw Bruce.. and his butler.”

“Oh great, so they know we're here,” Juliet crossed her arms, “and they should know to never keep me waiting.”

Tarquin shook his head, “they- both of them- oh god-” he inhaled and exhaled again, “They're dead.”

As if perfectly on queue, an alarm blared overhead. Metal shutters fell over the windows, and the door.

The twelve of them were trapped.