allthekeys | Night 022

GO TO THREAT DOWN

|| NIGHT 022: GENERAL

Night creeps up on the house like an assassin through shadows, embracing the guests in heavy darkness that is impossible to escape. The water has finished draining at last, leaving everything to slowly finish becoming dry once more, but the place is far from fully healed. Glancing through the broken windows reveals that the house still floats on water, and there is nothing to stop the icy sea wind blasting through the fractured glass.

It's cold, and throughout the night it only gets colder. The fires won't light; the wood is damp still, and only fills rooms with unpleasant smoke at attempts to light it. Guests would be wise to procure some blankets and find a corner to shield themselves from the elements.

The pulse is back in the walls. It seems faster tonight, anxious, and once noticed (via touch, the throb of something like a heartbeat in the floor and the stone around you) it seems to carry to the house-guest themselves -- the anxiety carrying with it. Skin seems to itch, like a healing scab, enough to cause discomfort and irritation.

There's something else, too. Where the walls cracked before the flood, around door frames and hinges, where areas meet or dents have been made something has happened -- something familiar yet different.

The walls are bleeding, again, cold thick blood that seeps rather than flows, congeals and and is tacky to the touch. It smells foul.

Observant house-guests will notice that the walls aren't the only thing behaving strangely tonight. Anyone near a source of light strong enough to cast a heavy shadow may notice it does not appear entirely synchronised with them, as it should be. Sometimes it stops a second after they do, mimics movements half a second too slow and every so often it seems to forget to move at all. It could be imagination, of course, nothing more, and after all they don't respond to attacks -- why should they? They're just shadows, a shadow that belongs to you. No harm can come of that, can it?

Somewhere in the distance a baby begins to cry. The sound is incessant, changing in urgency every so often and quieting for a few minutes here and there -- yet it begins again. No matter where you walk or for how long it never seems to get any closer, always feels just a hallway or a few rooms away. Parents in the house will find the sound makes their skin crawl, the hairs on the back of the necks stand on end.

The four ghosts stand suddenly as night falls, though something thick and dark remains attached to their hands, tethering them in place. It is the color of blood, though it no longer appears to be as much, or at least not entirely. They stand in place, heads bowed, eyes open and staring at nothing. They do not move, and they barely seem to breathe.

Then, almost absently, the Mute Ghost Girl begins to speak. "March Harrison, thirty-two, from Evanston, Illinois, near the lake. A carpenter." The words are flat, and hold none of the inflection a child might use. "Married, one child, deceased."

The Lady In White speaks up, voice equally unmarked. "Ainsley James. Born to parents who were not married, from Brisbane. Age fourteen. Unmarried, deceased."

The Wax Man speaks, his voice quiet, but firm. "Samuel James, age twenty-two. From Brisbane. Unmarried, deceased."

The Cook speaks last, voice just as clinical as his fellows. "Tyler Demir, age eight. Current status pending. Unmarried, adopted."

They do not move from their spots the rest of the night, and anyone who comes near them will find that their own stories begin to be spoken. Names, ages, status, their entire lives wrenched from their minds. As each word is spoken, they will find that they begin to forget, those pronounced details drained from them as if the very act of hearing them spoken steals them away.

The Phantasms re-emerge from the back rooms and converge on the cells of the Experiments. In pairs, mostly, they carefully take each from their prisons and lift them through insurmountable layers of rock and concrete, eventually depositing them on the floor of the Basement with whatever supplies they need.

The chimes of the clock sound oddly to many in the house, something seeming to block the noise from reaching them properly and hearing correctly. The sensation is alien and sporadic-- physical, accompanied by a dullness, a heaviness and cloudiness in their heads. A drugged feeling as sound slows down. The feeling fades as quickly as it comes, sound around them returning to normal moments later, but strange incidents continue as the night drags on, however, footsteps dulled, guttural growls emerging from empty corners. Then speech begins to shift. Those affected feel-- know-- that they are speaking normally yet they cannot seem to form words correctly. To those listening, it sounds like a mix up of language, of nonsensical noise that should sound like words but never do, ultimately communicating nothing.

The breakdown, fortunately, is minimal. One some are affected, and intermittently. But as midnight approaches, comprehension becomes more distant more often.

As dusk settles and turns to night, the echoes of the clock reverberate through all other clocks in the house, vibrating even in the pocket watches of the guests. Then their watches stop completely. The watches refuse to tell time throughout the night, instead remaining solidly on whatever time to which they are wound. It is only when approaching any ghost or monster that they change; they wind themselves, backwards. The time is always the same in the presence of that particular creature.

In the Greenhouse a strange meeting has settled into place. Lock sits on the ground between two Phantasms. The boy looks exhausted, head bowed and hands bloodied, but makes no attempt to escape his apparent captors.

The dog that has been wandering the house during the day lays and few feet away, watching the boy and his guards, ears pricked forward. Someone alert might notice a small glass frog sitting on the top of his head.

The carriage has returned, and Orion leans as though to address those gathered near, wrinkled face serious. The horse stands passively within his harness, one ear tilted towards the gathering as the only sign he is paying attention. Lyhn is leaning against the side of the carriage, arms crossed and hood drawn around his face to hide his features. Though he seems content to listen, he will occasionally voice an opinion in the debate. In the carriage sits a young woman, her blonde hair cut short and her eyes serious. She is dressed quite simply, and seems almost nervous as she examines the gathering. Where the others all seem inclined to join the conversation, she remains quiet, only listening.

Soubi, Sam and Vivien will feel drawn to this point. The unnerving feeling that their presence has been requested, and that of their charges, reuses to leave them until they move to join the strange gathering.

Away from the gathering, out in the distant depths of the dog there seems to be a source of light. It moves, bobs almost. A lantern, perhaps, being carried? A torch, a flash-light? Why would someone be out that far in the fog?

Though most of the water has drained away, the Drowned Woman has managed to occupy the Basement where most of the remaining dampness remains. She is sprawled in a puddle, moaning pitifully and gasping for air. Her longing for breath is interspersed with pitiful sobs as she drags herself across the wet floor to grasp at anyone who pass her by. She scrambles weakly for the experiment victims when they arrive, reaching her hand out to them in desperation though she cannot quite reach.

In the Art Gallery, the Art Enthusiast's Ghost has reappeared, returning to his normal haunt. His posture is more slumped than usual, his head hanging somehow lower as he half-heartedly examines the paintings, his focus specifically on a newly added painting of a phoenix. Even his movements are slower, and though he is still hostile tonight, he delays in attacking and chase is never spirited.

The Blue Kitchen has suffered a little from the crash and flood, but is still a decent enough source of supplies. However guests might want to use a little caution. The food from here is having a strange effect tonight. Eating it will feel begin to give an odd sense of vertigo, a sense that the rooms are getting bigger around them -- or perhaps that they are shrinking? They aren't, of course, nothing at all is happening. It couldn't possibly.

Still, the sense simply won't go away.

Whatever spent the day creeping through the Yellow Bedroom does not seem inclined to leave. The wallpaper curdles and crawls, the sour of smell of spoiled milk seeping out from underneath the paper. Something continues to lurk in the corners, but never reveals herself.

The Student Bedroom has come quietly alive with noise. There is the faintest suggestion of music coming from just beyond the walls in the next room over, though it can only be heard within this room, along with soft and delighted laughter. A few colourful streamers have made their way onto the floor here. A card on the desk shows a picture of brightly coloured balloons, the message reading 'congratulations!' No one has signed it.

The Mother's Ghost lingers in The Study again, staring very attentively at the door. She glances with passing curiosity at guests who enter or come nearby, but nothing more than that. Her stance is tense, expectant perhaps? Angry? Afraid? She seems to strain at the doorway, eager to go somewhere yet unable to.

Contrary to the upset of the crying baby, another voice can be heard in the first house. From somewhere within The Closet Room the soft sound of singing can be heard. It seems tantalisingly reachable, unlike the distant crying, and if you follow the the chain of doors enough it seems you're getting closer. Perhaps the source can be found? Only, the deeper you go the harder it is to remember which direction you came from. All the small rooms seem to look the same, a maze of tiny spaces framed by doors. When you finally reach it, the Tinker-man looks up from his work and gives you a slow smile. He sets down the doll in his hand and beckons you closer.

Most of the Wax Family have returned to their regular place in the Dining Room of the second house, with only the boy missing. The blindfold has been replaced on the Mother's face, and the Father is smiling smugly, in spite of his face being mangled with dark contusion of his waxy flesh, almost sealing his left eye shut. The Daughter looks down dejectedly, her fist still curled around something but the hand dripping like a candle.

The Wax Son sits in the Junior Dormitory, playing with a flashlight and appearing satisfied with himself. The light is bright and fluorescent, banishing all shadow and danger from the room while it is on, illuminating the boy's broad smile and making the room safe for those instants. He shuts it off at random intervals and the Shadows surge with a vengeance, tearing apart any flesh that remains within the room.

The Stables seem occupied tonight, as soft sounds emerge from each stall. Hooves can be heard padding the ground, along with soft whinnies alerting their presence, though nothing can be seen in any of them. The small stall at the end is locked, and inside there is quiet laughter.

While walking up the path to the Orchard, the air quickly becomes full of the noise of birds. The Crows caw, the noise getting louder and more distinct as the trees are entered. The calls of the birds, however, soon begin to sound more like young voices crying, however, avian lamentations left for something more human. All Empaths will feel their sorrow distinctly, the birds mourning their lost youth.

Underneath one tree sits the Lonely Ghost Boy, staring up at the birds with sympathy. He doesn't react to anyone else, though a few birds swoop closer to him when he is approached.

In the dim light of the Red Hallway the Spider lurks, ready to take advantage of any unsuspecting victims. Its attacks are quick, lunging from the cover of darkness to claw and bite and strike down guests who move too slowly. Worse than the burn of Spider's touch, though, is the effect of his poison. It would be wise to steer clear.

From inside the Meat Freezer, the soft sound of prayer can be heard. The Frozen Lady sits primly in the centre of the room, her head bowed and her hands clasped together while she murmurs under her breath, the words causing puffs of icy vapor to escape her. She smiles welcomingly at any who approach her, reaching to allow them to join her, rising to her feet in greeting.

The Cafeteria is totally destroyed. The walls are puckered with collapsed plaster, food scattered about, and the tables pulled around and pushed over. Several in the middle of the room have been pushed together to make a large surface, where the Twelve Children skip and play on top of them. They are laughing loudly, using markers to draw on the tables and throwing food at the wall in some kind of contest. Scattered around the tables are thirteen weapons, everything from rocks to what appear to be discarded pipes. The Thirteenth Child is curiously examining one such long piece of metal.

Anyone who enters on this mess will face the scathing eyes of the boys and girls. They will interrogate all children to see if they are good enough to join their games or if they must face the same punishment as adults-- who are surged upon with hoots and hollers, rocks thrown and sticks waving.

The Seedy Bar tonight is lacking its usual cheer. The barkeeper who usually frequents it is nowhere to be found, and likewise his usual limitless supplies. Wherever he keeps or puts them remains a mystery, one that is difficult to solve without the man himself. The bar itself feels cold, unwelcoming -- the air peculiarly heavy and dead without his welcoming smile. Standing in it too long begins to become uncomfortable, and guests will slowly get the sense that someone is watching them -- although who and where from cannot be pinned down.

Something rather drastic and messy appears to have happened within the Opium Den. The room looks as if it has been ripped apart, perhaps in search of something -- or perhaps as the result of a fight, since the damage appears to have spread to more than just the room itself. Flecks of red cover the walls in places and a dark pool of what appears to be blood stains one corner. Then again, the walls are bleeding -- aren't they? Perhaps it's just that? No need to worry overly, surely?

Yet it feels different, somehow. With that much blood, it's hard not to wonder how far the person may have got. Are they still out there?

The safe rooms tonight are: the Yellow Bedroom, the Student Bedroom, and the Velvet Room.

|| THREAT DOWN

First House

1. Front Door 2. Entry Way 3. Coat Closet 4. Parlor 5. Formal Dining Room 6. Blue Kitchen 7. Doll Bathroom 8. East Hallway 9. Library 10. Study 11. Dawn Room 12. Closed Closet 13. Nursery 14. Dollhouse Room 15. Dollhouse 16. The Crack In The Wall 17. Maid Hallway 18. Clean Bedroom 19. Dirty Bedroom 20. Closet Room 21. Smoke Room 22. Yellow Bedroom 23. Vanity Room 24. Ivory Bathroom 25. Door to Basement 26. Supply Closet

1. Hallway 2. Student Bedroom 3. Student Closet 4. Mirror Bedroom 5. Journey Bedroom 6. Fairy Bedroom 7. Red Bedroom 8. Mask Bedroom 9. Trophy Room 10. Gallery 11. Observatory 12. Sewing Room 13. Glass Bathroom 14. Perfume Bedroom 15. Library 16. Cherry Hallway 17. Thin Bedroom 18. Dark Bedroom 19. Light Bedroom 20. Loft Bedroom 21. Ink Bedroom 22. Mosaic Bedroom 23. Day Room 24. Narrow Hallway 25. Store Room 26. Open Bathroom 27. Blind Bedroom 28. Door To Floating Hallway 29. Corkscrew Stair

1. Attic

1. Basement 2. Dirt Hallway 3. Waiting Room 4. Doctor's Office 5. Supply Closet 6. Recovery Ward 7-11. Examination Rooms 12. Treatment Room 13. Surgery Room 14. Ward 15. Morgue

1. Main Room 2. Green Room 3. Half Bath 4. Small Kitchen 5. Garden Closet 6. Empty Hall 7. Radio Room 8. Carpenters Room 9. Painter’s Room 10. Shared Bath 11. Glass Blowers Room 12. Tapestry Bedroom 13. Dollmaker's Workshop 14. Pottery Room

Second House

1. Stairwell Room 2. Wallpapered Parlor 3. The Open Door 4. Plain Kitchen 5. Pantry 6. Dining Room 7. Hallway 8. Half Sized Bath 9. The Blank Library 10. ??? Room 11. Open Hall 12. Rose Garden 13. Chapel 14. Priest's Room 15. Priest's Bedroom 16. Hallway 17. Locked Door 18. Rough Kitchen 19. Junior Dormitory 20. Bell Tower 21. Courtyard

1. Straight Hall 2. Public Restroom 3. Glass Half Empty 4. Fake Bedroom 5. Model Bedroom 6. Dusk Room 7. Viewing Bedroom 8. Memory Bedroom 9. Photography Bedroom 10. Dark Room 11. Shelter Bedroom

Third House

1. Wind Tunnel Hallway 2. The Front Door 3. Sitting Room 4. Leather Study 5. Gentlemen's Lounge 6. Diamond Dining Room 7. Professional Kitchen 8. Stable 9. Locked Door 10. Orchard 11. Hanging Tree 12. Hot Springs 13. Locked Door

1. Red Hallway 2. Herbal Bedroom 3. Costumed Room 4. Bell Bathroom 5. Locked Door 6. Playboy Bedroom 7. Statuary Bedroom 8. Candy Store 9. Stalker Room 10. Satin Room 11. Scented Bathroom 12. Birdcage Room 13. Hedonist Room 14. Carved Parlor 15. Silk Room 16. Get Away Cabin 17. Vanity Bathroom 18. Velvet Bedroom 19. Wax Bedroom 20. Husk Bedroom

Fourth House

1. Hanging Hall 2. The Slaughterhouse 3. Meat Freezer 4. Cheese Room 5. Salt Room 6. Preserved Storage 7. Fresh Storage 8. Hallway 9. Distillery 10. Humidor 11. Cramped Stairs 12. Hook Hallway 13. Smoke House 14. Drying Shed 15. Hot House 16. Lift

1. The Hoarder's Attic 2. Leftovers Cupboard 3. Lift

1. Tea Room 2. Cafeteria 3. Entrance Hall 4. Courtyard 5. Bakery 6. Patisserie 7. Overstuffed Kitchen 8. Ladies' Room 9. Mis-sized Dining Room 10. Men's Room 11. Servant's Kitchen 12. Unidentified Restroom 13. Empty Kitchen 14. Opium Den 15. Seedy Bar

1. Checked Hall 2. Wine Room 3. Green Bedroom 4. Soft Bedroom 5. Carnivore Bedroom 6. Herbivore Bedroom 7. Sweet Bedroom 8. Chamber of Purification 9. Nasty Bathroom 10. Horrific Hotel Room 11. Locked Door

Night 022

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