10
6. 6. 22, Monday, 13:09
It had been ridiculously easy to sneak away to the unused Rooms earlier.
After lunch, the seven simply just declined any invitations to hang out, faking various reasons ranging from sickness to lethargy to outright saying they had no interest in spending time with the inviter, although that one was because it was Ben Dover wanting to them to be his lookouts while he looted the kitchens.
Even the staff didn’t seem very interested in where they were going. Even the lamest reasons ‘I was looking for the bathroom’ satisfied them. Denver briefly wondered that if it was Damon that made them tighten security.
The hard part was locating the Rooms.
With the help of trusty old Google they had looked up the phobias they didn’t know listed on the paper. Afterwards they had to figure out where the Rooms were. The where in the mansion was obvious, it being where most of the Rooms were – in the west wing. But to open the door was harder – if they weren’t being used, they were locked and could only be opened by a identity card. Security was top tech here.
They couldn’t open every single one too, so they were left to use their lazy brains to work out which was which. Mostly guesswork, but by watching past season videos they were able to see the doors in the background and which matched which.
That problem eliminated, they just had to work on how to open them.
WikiHow was relatively useless, and the credit card trick Freddie tried didn’t work. Neither did the hairpin Emma poked through.
Which left them the choice they had no wish to do: steal a card.
That, like everything else, had been easy.
Or maybe that was because the maid they had chosen to rob was younger and newer, thus more careless than the rest. She was cleaning up the dining hall, bending over, when the Phobia Club slipped in. Emma and Lana engaged her in conversation, Denver, Leo and Julian pretending to take some leftovers as snacks and Adonis plucked the card from her pocket. She didn’t even hide it well.
Subsequently they drew lots to see who would take which Room.
Which is why Denver and Leo were now exploring the Tonitrophobia Room, located courtesy of one Alex Chang.
***
“This Room,” Denver said. “Is grey.”
That was an understatement. The whole Room was painted all shades of grey, the furniture graphite, walls slate, the floor silver. The chairs were cushy but dull metallic, the windows blocked by grey shades. Funny enough the cushions were the funny little pillows in the shape of angry clouds. The colour of a thunderstorm.
It made sense. Tonitrophobia was the fear of thunder, after all.
“But is it just supposed to be grey?” Leo mused. “I thought it would be scarier.”
“Of course it is,” Denver reminded him. “Remember Alex said they turned down the lights so there wasn’t anything you could see properly? And that they played loud thunder sounds?”
“Oh yeah,” Leo agreed. “And that guy from two seasons ago was scared of the same thing. They put fake rain in here too.”
“Is that why Alex always comes out drenched?”
“Hah, yeah. But now what exactly are we looking for?”
“Not sure. Let’s just say,” Denver said, taking a few steps back, standing by the door. “Since we know that there’s something in this Room linked to the paper and whoever wrote the diary, let’s just say that…this is a Room challenge like the show. You know? So if I were to look for a clue in a Thunder Room…”
“I’d probably look up,” Leo finished. “Thunder. Sky. Yeah, I get it now.”
Both of them leaned against the door and turned their heads towards the ceiling.
Wow. The ceiling was an interesting piece of art. It was grey, like everything else, but painted to look like realistic clouds banging together to form a raging storm. But the best part was the lights randomly installed to form stars.
“Okay, it’s nice, but that’s it,” Denver said abruptly.
“Unless maybe they form some constellation?” Leo said hopefully.
They both took out their phones and pointed them up, using Google Lens to snap a picture to search. No, there wasn’t any constellation that matched.
“Dang it,” Denver complained. “Let’s search the Room, the ceiling’s useless.”
Leo agreed with him, although a voice in his head told him that the ceiling wasn’t completely useless. Generally when logic trumps those voices one doesn’t listen to, so Leo followed Denver on his equally pointless, time wasting quest to find clues in the Room.
“This is hopeless,” Leo said, plopping down on the futon. “There’s nothing here. They even took away the Clues to hunt for during episodes.”
“I guess that piece of paper is meaningless,” Denver sighed. He joined Leo on the futon and both laid back, tired and frustrated.
They stared at the ceiling. So many questions insisted on being answered, but alas and alack Denver and Leo had none to give. What did the paper mean? Who put it there? Whose diary was that? Why was it written in gibberish? Where did they put those stolen snacks again?
Then it some answers barged into their heads.
Denver remembered that they left the croissants it in their bedroom.
Leo realized the stars weren’t in a random pattern.
He leapt to his feet. “Den, look up.”
“What?”
“Look. The stars…they’re all scattered, but they all seem to gather towards that corner.”
Denver stared. “What-OH I SEE IT NOW! LET’S GO!”
Both of them ran to the furthest left corner. There, a seemingly innocent shelf squatted there, filled with grey books on weather. Denver and Leo looked at each other, nodded once, and together shoved it out of the way.
Aha. Sneaky Ashwood and his crew had hidden the thunder-noise generator behind it.
Denver ran his hand over it. Finding a button, he pressed it. A thunderous (get it?) noise filled the Room, sounding as if there really was a downpour outside and inside. Lightning even cracked.
“A giant speaker. Clever,” Denver commented to Leo, but had no response.
Leo was behaving oddly. He had his eyes closed in intense concentration, and was tapping his foot to a weird rhythm.
“Hey, what are you doing?” Denver asked.
“Can’t you hear it?” Leo opened his eyes. “The tune. Thunder. It only plays at a certain time. Like, three seconds, boom, two seconds, boom, one second, boom.”
“Huh…” Denver tried it. “Hey, you’re right! Dang, you’re smart.”
Both of them tapped their foot to the thunder. It was somehow relaxing, and it was easy to get in sync with. Tap-boom. Tap-boom. Tap-boom-
A panel in the wall slid open.
“What?” Leo gasped.
“I think the tune unlocked it!” Denver yelled in excitement. “Let’s go check it out!”
Inside the tiny box-like compartment were three items: a single rusty key, a crumpled note and dust. Really thick dust, dust that made Leo and Denver sneeze loudly.
Denver picked up the key. It was made of tarnished copper, the design a decorative handle with twisting lines. The end of it was sharp and jagged in a perfect way.
Leo read out the note. “Weird. It only says…’Move’.”
Denver took out his phone, snapped a picture and sent it to the Phobia Club chat.
Wolf_1: Check out what leo n I found makes any sense?
Wolf_1: more details later cuz we better scram b4 someone sees us
Moons: yeah sure
Camera: same
LiterallyDead: be quick
MilkyWay: wash ur hands everyone b4 u get bacterias
Fido: Bacteria is the plural form idiot
Denver frowned thoughtfully. “Another mystery to add to the list of mysteries.”
***
“Ew,” Julian shuddered.
He cursed his luck getting the shorter end of the deal – getting CACOPHOBIA ROOM. Ugh. According to Google, cacophobia meant the fear of ugliness. Generally Julian wasn’t afraid of that, but after coming to this Room he was starting to rethink that.
If he were to describe it, these words came to mind: Ugly. Hideous. Grotesque. Terrible sense of furniture style.
The Room mostly resembled a prison cell, albeit clean. There was a single wooden rocking chair with the grisly faces of mythical monsters glaring at Julian – the leg with the face of a chimera was bent too. The round table next to it was equalling appalling what with the replica of Caravaggio’s Medusa on top of it. Julian averted his eyes from the bulging eyes, but the other ‘décor’ wasn’t much better.
Everyone knows if you slather enough acrylic paint on a canvas thick enough that once it dries you could feel it poking out. He briefly considered how much acrylic paint the artists (how could those things be art?) must’ve used to make their unsightly portraits.
Their subjects were of various degrees of ugliness: blob fish, a stretching witch face with popping eyeballs, cockroaches, skinny rabid rats and other awful items. Worse was how whoever made them disfigured them more in some way – mostly adding staring, creepy void black eyes. Julian wasn’t afraid of ugly things before, but now he was rethinking that. Once again, he cursed at ending up here.
He avoided the shelves too, all filled with ghastly items – dead, vermin taxidermies (oh, Lana would cry at the sight of the dead things), jars of neon liquid which the faint smell of rot was pouring out of (Adonis would’ve probably opened them – thank goodness he wasn’t here), a framed picture of flat insects (It’s your worst nightmare, Emma, he thought) and leering statues (was he ready to join Freddie now?). Jeez. Whoever designed this room had definitely gone overboard.
“This is gross. And pointless,” He said to no one. “Why am I here just because of a piece of paper?” He kicked at the rocking chair. “And there’s no way I’m touching these things.”
Julian then noticed the Ashwood family crest, the letter ‘A’ surrounded by curling branches, engraved on the chair. “Ugh, did Ashwood get this made? Some taste he has.”
He didn’t know why he was thinking aloud. But it made him feel better with all those sightless ideas watching him. Julian felt a twinge of jealousy at Denver and Leo, who had gone off together. He didn’t want to be alone in this revolting Room any longer. Julian took a long look around. Maybe he didn’t have to stay. There didn’t seem to be anything worth looking for here. He could leave.
Then he could sight on another family crest on the table. Ew, ew. Who was making these things for Ashwood? He look down on the scratched floor, the only thing that wasn’t very ugly. Of course the Ashwood crest would be on it too.
Hey. Funny thing. The table was on the exact position as the A, covering it whole. The chair stood on one of the leaves. Maybe the crest was actually not completely there for no reason. What else had the crest here?
Suddenly the realization hit Julian so hard he had to sit down on the repugnant chair to sort it all out properly.
Why were so many things in this Room covered with the crest, when he had never seen anything else outside it with the crest? It had to be here for a reason. He pulled out his phone. Maybe the crest was here to be a clue for any contestants put here. Julian opened up the episodes where the only Cacophobia contestant was in, some person named Kelly Ling.
Julian spent some time viewing the old videos, speeding it up when he got bored. Nope, not one of them had Kelly used the crest for anything. It just seemed dto xist. Odd. Why was it here then? He set his brain cells to work it out.
Maybe…maybe….just maybe…that it really had something to do with the paper and whoever put it in the vase.
He looked down again. If the chair and table were arranged exactly on the crest, someone put it there. Did it mean he had to put other things on the crest too, matching exactly, for something to happen? Well, it was a worth a try anyway.
Logic was screaming at him that it did not make sense, like how rabbits do not wear waistcoats and cards are not soldiers: Don’t do it! Get out of here! The furniture being put there is just a coincidence!
But then again, the spark that had given him the crazy idea argued that logic did not predict the paper being in the vase, or him being here. In Wonderland nothing made sense, and while Ashwood Mansion was not that, the whole adventure was starting to feel like Alice’s, so why should anything make sense?
“Okay,” Julian said. “If I have to put things on the crest, what exactly should I be putting?”
He checked the chair. Even weirder. It was supposed to rock, but it had been nailed to the ground. Julian looked at the table. It too was nailed down. What crazy did this?
“So what do the table and chair have in common?” he speculated. “Other than being nailed down, they both had…the Ashwood logo thingy!”
“Which means,” he said, deflating. “I have to look for things that also have the crest.”
After a long, repulsive search for it, he found them on the shelves. Julian set them on the floor-crest, arranging them to see if they matched the leaf sizes. It took him some time, as occasionally he had to rethink where to put them. He waited for something to happen.
The floor groaned, and simultaneously the tiles of the crest sank down a little, and one pushed upwards.
There was a tiny hole cut into the raised tile, slightly above everything from Julian’s point of view. He stuck his hand in, bringing out a tarnished key and a single note.
To….Forwards…
***
Emma loved mirrors. Which was why on her birthday her friends gave her a pocket mirror, why she spent a long time in the bathroom and why she was always looking at her reflection in puddles when out at the park with her family.
So it was an obvious choice to who would go to the Eisotrophobia Room. Eisotrophobia was the fear of mirrors and one’s reflection. Even more obviously, Emma did not have that.
I go crazy ‘cause here isn’t where I wanna be
And satisfaction feels like a distant memory
She stood in the centre now. The Room appeared circular, but it wasn’t – it was just the mirrors. It felt like those Fun Houses where wherever you went you could see yourself. Interestingly, a whole lot of other Emmas copied her movements. It was kind of dizzying.
Emma spun around, spritzed the air with repellent, stopped to check her hair, check the time, wave at her reflected selves, smoothed down her shirt, adjusted her sleeves, took a picture on her phone…well, simply doing a bunch of things that was most likely going to waste valuable time – Ashwood was going to come back sooner or later and the maid would be bound to notice her card was missing and a million other things could go wrong in this illegal plan of theirs.
And I can’t help myself
All I ever wanna say is, “Are you mine?”
A ping on her phone, alerting her that there were unread texts in hers, Lana’s and Freddie’s group chat. She unplugged her ear buds, stopped playing Arctic Monkey’s ‘Are you mine?’ and tapped to check.
Fido: Wassup Emmy girl
MilkyWay: have you found anything yet
MilkyWay: also fred u don’t hv 2 text w/ proper words n capital letters
Fido: Shuttup y’know I hate bad grammar
MilkyWay: how long hv we been hving this convo
LiterallyDead: hey guys
LiterallyDead: hvn’t found anything yet
Fido: Well then get back to work
Fido: @LiterallyDead you’re listening to music again aren’t you
MilkyWay: at least I know shes alive unlike Adonis who isn’t responding
MilkyWay: don’t forget to drink water @LiterallyDead
LiterallyDead: yeah yeah lana I know
LiterallyDead: @Fido like uve found anything
Fido: Ofc I did
LiterallyDead: …ykw im leaving now
Emma stuffed her phone in her pocket, guiltily realizing she had forgotten about looking for clues. Plugging in her ear buds, she pondered on what to do.
This Room wasn’t like any other Room she had seen before. The others were like furnished like normal rooms you would find in a house but this one was a) smaller than the others and b) had no furniture unless you counted the carpet.
She took good looks at the mirrors. Maybe one of them was different?
But her mind drifted off to other places. Namely, why they were doing this at all. It didn’t really make sense, but the paper nor the diary Freddie was working on translating with Lana and hers help had.
Why they decided to go check out the Rooms listed out was a mystery. The best thing to do was to go check them out for answers, she concluded.
Then again, who had written the paper and the diary? Why had they hidden them away? Perhaps the diary had been left behind by some forgetful ex-contestant, yes, but what about the paper?
Maybe Ashwood was thinking of doing something to the Rooms and it dropped into the vase by accident. It was the best thing her puzzled mind could come up with.
Emma couldn’t find anything so far, so while she might have to put up with a lot of ribbing, it would be worth it if she could get some help. She sighed.
LiterallyDead: guys this room is lame it got nothing
MilkyWay: sure?
LiterallyDead: yup it got no furniture too
MilkyWay: the mirrors?
LiterallyDead: nothing
MilkyWay: like u don’t c anything different abt them?
LiterallyDead: yes im not blind
LiterallyDead: wheres the dog
MilkyWay: what dog dogs r unsanitary as much as I love them be careful ok if u see one don’t touch it unless u know it had its rabies shot
LiterallyDead: girl I didn’t mean that
MilkyWay: what
MilkyWay: oh u mean fred
Fido: I’m back ladies didtcha miss me?
Fido: Dog girl is here now no need to fight there’s plenty of Freddie to go around
MilkyWay: how did I end up bffs with this idiot
LiterallyDead: no idea
LiterallyDead: anyways can u guys help me idk where 2 look now
Fido: Do something very cliché
LiterallyDead: what
MilkyWay: oh yeah
MilkyWay: dog girl’s saying go n think abt smt rly cliché like a rly cliché spot 2 hide stuff or smt
Fido: See this is why we’re bffs
Fido: You guys get me
LiterallyDead: um ok ill go do that now
Emma thought hard. Where was a spot that was very, very cliché to hide something? Easy, she thought. A mirror that was secretly blocking a secret tunnel.
Wow, clichés were helpful.
She felt the frames of each frame. Maybe one was hollow or different or something. Wait… then she noticed it. That mirror’s frame was a slightly different shade than the others. Could be nothing, could be something.
She pressed it hard.
The mirror flipped like a revolving door. Behind it was a narrow space, with a hook and discoloured plaque. Hanging on the hook was a key. Emma snatched it up. Once she put it in her pocket, the plaque caught her eye. Taking out her phone, she snapped a photo of it.
LIKE | YOU
***
Worms are helpful things. Worms are wiggly things. Worms are noodle-like things.
Worms are everywhere in the Scoleciphobia Room.
You could argue that the Worm Room – as Adonis nicknamed it – was almost as bad as the Cacophobia Room, if not worse. At least the unseemly objects didn’t move, but worms did. They crawled everywhere. They wriggled underneath the glass cases. They curled themselves into spirals. He generally wasn’t disgusted by these things, but the sight of so many twisting together was enough to make a little bile rise up.
Thank goodness the Room wasn’t like his, with spiders on the ground with no barrier stopping them. It was decorated like the rest of the house, state-of-the-art furniture and exquisite antiques. Well, except they were all worm-themed.
The table’s legs resembled the wrigglers. The chair’s cover pattern was a bunch of worms, the blinds the colour of earthworms, the carpet seemingly made of intertwined worms, a framed picture of different types of worms, the chest of drawers’ handles were worms…you get the point.
Even the light bulbs dangled from wormy wires.
And then the rectangular, flat, fish tank-like glass boxes on the walls where the worms burrowed into dirt. Moisture and soil had dirtied the walls, thus obscuring the view and all, but the contents were still visible. Tapeworms, earthworms, roundworms, ribbon worms, peanut worms, spoon worms, beard worms, arrow worms…
“Argh,” Adonis sighed when he entered. “At least they aren’t spiders, I guess. But they still are not a pretty sight to look at.”
His phone pinged. Taking it out, he saw Denver’s text. Lucky, he thought. They got a non-gross Room and had found something so fast. Then again he had gotten distracted for some time before entering and Denver and Leo had gotten a head start. He texted back.
Moons: yeah sure
Camera: same
LiterallyDead: be quick
MilkyWay: wash ur hands everyone b4 u get bacterias
Fido: Bacteria is the plural form idiot
Moons: yeah singular is bacterium
Wolf_1: this is what happens when u don’t take notes
MilkyWay: excuse me?????!!
MilkyWay: 2 heck w/ u I take a lot of notes
MilkyWay: way more than u
Fido: True have you seen her notebook?
Moons: once
LiterallyDead: many times
Wolf_1: sheesh
MilkyWay: please don’t touch anything sus in ur Rooms u nvr know if it has germs
Camera: we know-
Moons: uve said that approximately 5 time alrdy
Fido: Everything has germs if you think about it
Adonis switched off his phone. If he would like to find something, he should stop dithering. He looked around, up, left, right, down all the while strolling around, occasionally peering into the worm boxes. Adonis wondered if they were only in cages now because the Room wasn’t in use.
He contemplated his decision to suggest they explore the Rooms. At the time it had made sense, since this was Room of Fear, after all. Why else would they write down a list of phobias if it didn’t have anything to do with the Rooms?
But now Adonis was starting to think he was wrong. There wasn’t anything special in this wiggly, oogly Room. Perhaps that piece of paper had been nothing more than a piece of paper and that they were overthinking everything.
No. There was a reason for everything.
He sat down on the wicker chair, the wicker resembling stringy worms. Surprisingly it was comfy. Adonis decided to just stay like that for a while to wait for a brainstorm or something. He stared at the ground, thinking.
Well, he decided philosophically, since the paper and the diary had no answers yet, the best thing to do was to keep moving forward and hope the answer presented itself.
Next thing to decide was how to find anything at all in this peculiar Room. Oh, if Adonis really knew where the answers were to be fine. They do say humans are blind to things right IN FRONT of them, of course.
Ahem, RIGHT IN FRONT OF THEM.
Camera: find anything yet @Moons
Moons: no can u guys gimme some help
Wolf_1: whats ur room like
Fido: Bet it’s ugly
Camera: uglier than mine? Nah
LiterallyDead: worms r ugly 2
Moons: nothing special just a bunch of worms
MilkyWay: idk how 2 help maybe u should look 4 a trapdoor or a secret compartment?
Fido: terribly cliché
Camera: whats cliché
Fido: search it up
Moons: don’t think theres anything here
LiterallyDead: um maybe a false panel in the wall? Like mystery novels
Moons: theres no panelling here
Wolf_1: try looking for a trail
Wolf_1: an arrow or smt happened in leo n me’s room
Adonis noticed the carpet for the first time. It wasn’t that he didn’t see it before, he just hadn’t paid much attention to it. Now he did. Not surprising, considering how he had been looking at the ground long enough to burn a hole in it.
It was a pattern of worms, yes, but there seemed to be a specific pattern. His brain, having nothing else to do, resolved to figure it out. One’s bored mind does tend to do that.
Subconsciously his mind began to track the curled worms, straight worms and wiggling worms. The pattern and unconscious beat began to take place as his eye tracked it diagonally. Two curled, one straight, three wiggling. Two curled, one straight, three wiggling. Two curled, one straight, three wiggling-
It ended right at the north east corner. It didn’t end in the correct worm. It was three curled ones now. Wait, no, it was all curled ones now….were they forming a ring around the chest of drawers?
Adonis felt a prickle of excitement. It could be just a random observation, but something rather like premonition was urging him to it. He walked over and pushed the drawers away. Lifting up the carpet, he couldn’t believe his eyes.
There was nothing there.
“Sheesh,” he said aloud. “What an idiot I am.”
Adonis kicked the carpet back in place. Preparing to move back the drawers, suddenly his foot slipped and somehow plunged into the corner tile.
“What the heck?” He exclaimed. Throwing back up the carpet again, he saw it. The weight of his foot had somehow triggered some mechanism that lifted up the tile like a trapdoor.
He crouched down. Looking down, Adonis saw the tiny boxy hole underneath. Ah, so that tile was hollow. He reached his hand in, feeling around.
His hand closed around something – or more than one things – and he brought it to the light. A key, dusty from its hiding place, with perfect edges. A note, with the fading words ‘Would’ and ‘Must’.
Moons: look what I found
***
Nomatophobia was an interesting case. Fascinating, really.
Words were everywhere, which concludes to the fact whoever had this phobia would be afraid of going out. And that would lead to agoraphobia, Freddie’s train of thought said, the fear of going out of your house.
The only furniture were those giant plastic letter things you might see as a sign or Instagram spots, huge letters of all colours that you could pose next to or sit on. Vowels sat in a circle in the middle, like they were gathering around an invisible campfire. The walls were covered with words, words and more words.
Freddie glance around at the left wall, scrawled with dozens of words written vertically, horizontally, diagonally and even upside down. Some were even strung together, like ‘OFFICERMOTIFSTUDENTDROWNUNDERSTANDINGSHRINKRANK’.
“Weird phobia to have,” she commented, opening up a bag of biscuits. Popping on in her mouth, she clicked her playlist on her iPod. There was no reason not to enjoy herself while searching.
The diary translation was going rather slowly, rather to impatient Freddie’s dismay, but at least so far she had gotten three pages done. The hardest thing was trying to read the rubbed out words, which seemed to be every other sentence – all faded out like someone took a sponge to the ink.
Crush, crush, crush
Crush, crush (two, three, four)
Freddie taced the words ‘DENSITY’ in blue on the wall. Forcing her mind back from wondering off north, south, east and west, she prodded around in her memory to see if there were any book plots that could give her an idea of what to look for.
“Doubt Harry Potter’s going to work,” she snorted to herself. “Neither is Percy Jackson. They didn’t have to go into some weird Room to look for hidden clues like an escape room. Artemis Fowl…?
Nothing compares to a quiet evening alone
Just the one, two, I was counting on
“At least there aren’t any statues here,” Freddie said hopefully as her brain came up empty. She hadn’t read any books on escape rooms – she made a mental note too. She sat down on the letter ‘E’, bending her head a little while chewing noisily. Sometimes it was annoying being tall; your head would bang the ceiling of a car when it hit a speed bump, you have to look down on little kids and long legs were hard to put under the table – it took SKILL to manoeuvre.
“Okay, so,” Freddie winced at where her brain was taking her. “As much as I hate being cliché, from what the boys said everything about looking for the notes and keys are cliché. So I have to think cliché…which means there’s probably…a trapdoor operated by some mechanism in which I have to step on, pull a lever or turn a knob or whatever it is the most cliché.”
That never happens, I guess I’m dreaming again
Then have to forget you for one whole minute
Let’s be more than this
Freddie’s fingers itched to write everything down in her notebook. It was an old, peeling thing, but Freddie carried it around everywhere, refusing to let anyone see its contents or even touch it. There was a bunch of important ideas she had scribbled dwon in there, and there was no way she was letting someone see them to the day pigs fly.
She patted her pocket for a pen, drawing up a single one, black-bodied with a fat puple cap. Freddie groaned. Oh dang it, she brought the wrong pen. Where was her fountain pen when she needed it? An invisible ink pen wasn’t going to help her, even if it did come with a flashlight.
Freddie stuffed it back into her pocket, but then a ball of entwined hair bands (hair bands? How did that get there?) rolled out and cruised to the other side. “How the heck do I have that in here?”
She got up and walked over, crouching down to pick it up. Her pen spilled out this time, somehow uncapped and scraped the wall. “OH DANG-”
Freddie hastily grabbed it and capped it, burying it deep into her cargo short’s pockets. She looked long and hard at the whitewashed wall, squinting despite wearing glasses, to make sure her pen hadn’t left a mark on it.
“Oh, whew,” she said, relieved, when there didn’t seem to be a nick or a glimmer of invisible ink on the wall.
If you wanna play it like a game
Well then come on, come on, let’s play
“Holy smokes,” Freddie blustered again when she saw it. “Please tell me my pen didn’t make that line there.”
It was true. PRIORITY had now become PRIORITY, with a zig-zaggy, faint little line underneath. Freddie hurriedly wiped at it with her finger, but it didn’t come off.
“Oh dang, what if someone sees it- hey, hang on,” Freddie said, as it dawned on her. “My pen’s invisible – that’s not my mark. Someone else put it there.”
And that, ladies and gentlemen, was when Freddie was delighted to realize the clues weren’t all cliché.
“Holy smokes!” She said excitedly. “Maybe it’s some sort of hint to whatever I’m supposed to be looking for – I got to go find more underlines things.”
With a million words in the Room and Freddie having bad eyesight and bad attention to things, you wouldn’t think she’d be able to find any more lines, but she did, after a really long time. She wished she had a magnifying glass when she was done, then realized she did in fact have one in her pocket, whatever the reason.
Later she spent another five to ten minutes piecing together the string of letters the lines under the words had. Together, they spelled out (with a little help from online unscramblers)…INVISIBLE.
Lucky she had an invisible pen then. Freddie, quivering with anticipation at what she would find, flashed the UV ray around the Room. As the beam was small, it was rather boring and hard to flash it EVERYWHERE in the Room, but it worked eventually.
An invisible arrow was pointing to the word ‘DOOR’.
“Very funny,” Freddie said sarcastically as she pressed her hand on each of the letters. The cover of the hole fell down, like a drawbridge, exposing the grimy objects.
A key.
And a plaque: YOU | LOOK
***
Illyngophobia, fear of dizziness.
What Lana really feared about this phobia was how much germs and potentially-life-threatening hazards was in this unused, grubby Room.
She flapped her jacket constantly at the dust, making miniature tornadoes. Lana hadn’t made much progress, despite being here for thirty minutes already, since she kept stopping to text everyone on her contacts list to make sure they were still alive.
The Room had normal brick walls and ceiling, but a glass floor boasting a fine, dizzying view of below hallways and winding stairs. Pictures of spinning optical illusions covered the walls. On the still, large lazy Susan in the middle of the Room, a lamp, sofa and coffee table was located. Lana guessed that whoever was made to stand on it would get the carousel-feeling of twirling and twirling and twirling…
At least it wasn’t moving now. Otherwise she would’ve thrown up at how it was moving and then the puddle of vomit would create unnecessary germs and vomiting was not good of health, and bad health led to…
LiterallyDead: hvn’t found anything yet
Fido: Well then get back to work
Fido: @LiterallyDead you’re listening to music again aren’t you
She typed back.
MilkyWay: at least I know shes alive unlike Adonis who isn’t responding
MilkyWay: don’t forget to drink water @LiterallyDead
LiterallyDead: yeah yeah lana I know
LiterallyDead: @Fido like uve found anything
Fido: Ofc I did
LiterallyDead: …ykw im leaving now
Oh, Emma. While she sided with Freddie that Emma shouldn’t comment unless she had found something, she also had fount nothing.
MilkyWay: @Fido what did u find
Fido: stuff
Ugh, Freddie could be annoying when she was in the mood.
Fido: I’ll show you later, swear
MilkyWay: actually I hvn’t found anything either gtg now be sure 2 change when u leave the room yeah theyre dusty as heck
Fido: dude not all of us want to change every second of the day
Fido: I’m going to read finish my book and you can’t stop me
MilkyWay: GET BACK HERE YOU LITTLE-
Unfortunately Freddie left the chat just then, so Lana was left to go hunt for clues all by herself. She huffed. Why was everyone snubbing health concerns these days?
Lana spotted a switch box with the door hanging open. Oh well, she better close it.
Then she saw the labels: LIGHTS, FAN …LAZY SUSAN.
She pressed the lazy Susan switch, even with her conscience shrieking at her. The round thing began to spin in a circle, slow and steady. Carousel speed, but slower, not fast enough to generate nausea. Curious to what it felt like, she hopped on to it.
It was a strange feeling, to stand still and be moving at the same time. The optical illusions rushed past her, painting the Room in black and white. The lamp became a golden, blurry stick. Lana felt a distinct sense of wanting to hurl now – the lazy Susan was getting faster and faster. She doubled over, and plopped onto the sofa. No way was she puking now.
For some reason she started to think of a performance she watched long ago: a man twirling fans around her a circle, the lights on the lamp forming pictures when they spun.
Oh. She realized why.
The lazy Susan was making one at the speed it was rushing around in.
It was fat, brown arrow. Where it was pointing it was hard to say at first, but then when she concentrated on it and not throwing up, it was clear where it was pointing.
East side of the Room.
Lana leaped off the lazy Susan, flicked off the switch and ran to the wall the arrow had pointed at. She slapped her hands onto it, hoping for something to happen, keeping her eyes peeled for some clue.
A text interrupted her.
LiterallyDead: guys turns out I just had to press a mirror 4 smt 2 happen
LiterallyDead: same w/ u guys?
Fido: in a way
Fido: im back in our bedroom waiting yeah
Fido: come back soon
MilkyWay: wait so I hv 2 press the wall?
LiterallyDead: what-
Fido: whatever ya want, pal
Good enough. She pressed hard on where the arrow had pointed to. It slid open like a door. A false wall. A sign, and a key on a hook
IF | BACKWARDS
***
The Phobia Club had gathered in Freddie, Lana and Emma’s bedroom, sitting on the floor or chairs, passing around a plate of chocolate-chip cookies and comparing notes.
“If, Backwards, You, Look, Would, Must, Like, You, To, Forwards, Move,” Lana chanted. “What does it all mean?”
“And what are the keys for?” Julian asked.
“To unlock a lock?” Freddie suggested helpfully to him, taking a bite out of her third cookie.
“I know that,” he muttered.
“And why are there clues at all?” Leo said. “Like, why is there a piece of paper and the diary and the keys and the words?”
“So many things, yet no answers,” Denver summarized.
“You know, I’ve been thinking,” Emma began. “Maybe this is a clue hunt within a clue hunt, set up by Ashwood and Gwenda. Like a bonus adventure that if we can figure out the end, we’ll be upgraded to the next level or something. Or instantly win!”
“You mean like a secret escape room, except it’s the whole mansion?”
“Yeah.”
“Ooh, that sounds fun.”
“Well then,” Freddie said, leaning back. “The diary is taking a long time to translate, but what I have so far is kind of the usual things people write about. Hope I get better luck.”
“The keys must be for something important later,” Lana said.
“And the words?”
“Just a string of nonsense trying to mislead us, if you want my opinion.”
“If, Backwards, You, Look, Would, Must, Like, You, To, Forwards, Move. Absolutely no relationship between them.”
“Hey,” Julian said suddenly. “Say that again.”
Lana looked puzzled, but complied. “If, Backwards, You, Look, Would, Must, Like, You, To, Forwards, Move.”
“Oh-OH!” Julian yelped. “I see it now!”
“See what?”
“He’s bonkers.”
“No, can’t you see it?” Julian grabbed a paper and started writing in his spidery, messy handwriting. “If, Backwards, You, Look, Would, Must, Like, You, To, Forwards, Move. The first word ‘If’, it matches with the third word, ‘You’.”
“Wait…” Adonis’ jaw fell open. “He’s right! The word after two correspond with the first one, and so on…”
“Give me that.” Freddie snatched up the paper and hastily started piecing the words together. “If you would like to move. What about the rest?”
“IF YOU HAVE THAT, IT CAN’T BE HARD TO PUT IN THE OTHERS, IDIOT!” Emma shouted, partly from annoyance but mostly from inability to stand the suspense.
Lana was reading it. “Put the rest of the words in backwards order! Now!”
Denver grabbed the paper now. “If you would like to move forwards, you must look backwards.”
“Another riddle?” Leo groaned.
“Look backwards, literally or figuratively?” Julian asked rather stupidly, after his initial brilliant idea.
“Figuratively, obviously.”
“Look backwards. Maybe it’s asking us to see what we collected from before.”
“That’s just the piece of paper then…”
“Quick, get it out! Where is it?”
Once again, the seven pored over the paper intently.
Illyngophobia
Nomatophobia
Scoleciphobia
Eisotrophobia
Cacophobia
Tonitrophobia
“Maybe anagrams? Enigmas?” Lana volunteered desperately. “Hidden meanings? Double meanings?”
“NO! HOW DID WE NOT NOTICE THIS BEFORE?!” Leo yelled. He rarely ever spoke above Library level, so it came as a very loud shock to everyone, who was startled to silence.
“What-”
“Did Leo just yell at us?”
“I didn’t even know he could do that.”
Leo was too hyped up to notice anything else. He pointed at the words, specifically the first letters of each. Sliding his finger down, he impatiently waited for everyone else to see it.
“Oh…OH!”
“HOLY SMOKES!”
“DANG LEO YOU’RE A GENIUS!”
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