Greg was walking into the dining room with Edmund by his side. He smiled when he saw that his dad was alive, but it quickly turned into a look of worry when he saw his father’s cut. Edmund grabbed a handful of bacon and went for the staircase while Greg sat down and started helping himself to eggs and toast.
He looked around and saw that everyone wanted to speak but no one dared. Finally, Logan asked, “Oi matey, where did you get your…?” His father pointed at his head with a worried look. Greg felt his head, it was sticking and moist. It hurt when he touched, but he did not really know what it was until he remembered the fact that Mary had hit him on the head.
“You wouldn’t believe me, but where did you get yours, Dad?”
Bella answered for him because it seemed like Logan did not want to admit what had happened. “Mary is a little confused at the moment and well she is agitated.”
The doctor grunted and said, “A little bit agitated? The girl has gone mental, we need to deal with her before she kills us all.”
“Mary hurt you too?” asked Greg.
All five of them looked at him expecting something more. “It’s just that she hit me too, and well she hit Brutus as well.”
“I knew the girl killed the dog,” said the doctor.
The twins looked shocked and Barry said, “We need to find her, quickly.”
Greg had thought that Barry would say some kind of joke, but he seemed genuinely concerned about Mary’s wellbeing.
Greg ate his toast slowly, he wondered whether he was going to find Edmund and ask for his help finding the painting. He had not yet seen it, but he guessed that it wouldn’t be in one of the rooms. It would not make sense to have a secret passageway where the guest slept.
Logan kept looking at the doors and so did Bella. Greg wondered whether they were expecting Mary to come inside. Greg wondered how Mary had survived, it was a long time since she had been eating with them. Had she been sneaking food in the middle of the night while the others slept?
“We should go in pairs, never alone. Mary is out of control,” said Logan and the doctor did not agree.
The doctor just said, “We don’t need to go in pairs, Mary is most likely hiding somewhere so we don’t find her. She is certainly not looking for us because then she already would have found us, she knows where we sleep.” Greg thought that the doctor was right, it did not seem as if Mary was searching for them. He had found her by accident and she had looked scared of him. She was like a deer in headlights and not a tiger in the bushes.
“I think it would be smart to go in pairs, Mary may not be searching for us, but it does not seem like she has trouble hurting us. Ben and Barry stick together, and Greg find Edmund and don’t leave his side,” said Bella.
It did not take long before the twins left the premises, Bella told them to keep an eye out for Mary and if they did see her, they should report it right away. Greg was the next to leave as he walked down the narrow staircase in search for Edmund.
Greg did not want to search for the painting alone, Mary had already killed his best friend and ghosts had tried to drown him; he was not safe alone. He walked through the dark hallway, the only sound came from his footsteps and his occasional cough. It felt like the dust in the air was armed with knives and attacked his lungs.
The kitchen was creepier than the rest of the hotel but when he was down there, he did not always get the feeling of being watched, it was weird.
“Edmund, are you there?” Greg whispered as loud as he could. “Edmund? Edmund, are you there?” There was no response, none at all.
Greg kept wandering the hallway knocking on doors saying, “Edmund? Are you in there?” But Edmund never spoke a word, which made Greg wonder if he was down there at all. What if he had gone up and they passed each other without noticing?
Something moved, Greg saw it for a split second. It ran across his light. He tried to follow it but did not know where it was. It ran across his light again, it was small. Was it an animal? Had Brutus followed him down to the kitchen? Did Brutus want to give him a warning? Was Mary down there with him?
Greg’s mind jumped from one thought to the other as he said, “Brutus, is that you?” There was no barking no whimpering, how could it be Brutus? Every time Brutus heard his name, he answered. It ran across the light again, then it vanished. Greg’s heartbeat started going up, he felt the hair on his back stand up and his head felt light. He needed to sit down but he could not, he needed to be able to run if he was in danger.
Greg went back to walking, he was searching for Edmund, the painting or ghosts, but hoped that he would not find any danger and a part of him hoped he would find the painting and not Edmund.
He started waving his light around quickly and in the corner of his eye, he saw a shoe. He pointed the flashlight at the shoe and the light revealed a leg. He walked towards it, had he found Edmund? It looked like Edmund’s shoes and jeans but why would Edmund lie on the floor?
Edmund’s body was laying on the cold hard dusty floor. “Edmund?” said Greg hoping for a response but it never came. Greg gently kicked Edmund’s foot but he did not move. Greg crouched down and began shaking Edmund’s body and asking for him to wake up, but Edmund neither talked nor moved. Greg laid his head down on Edmund’s chest to see if there was a heartbeat.
His heartbeat was slow, slower than Greg thought it should be. Greg put his ear on Edmund’s lips to see if he was breathing. Greg felt the warm moist wind blow up on his ear, Edmund was alive but why did he not move? Was he in some sort of trance? Was he trapped inside a nightmare?
Greg thought that the logical thing would be to wait for Edmund to wake up, but he needed to find the painting of the staircase, it was urgent. He needed to be careful, he had to avoid bumping into anyone, especially, Mary.
Greg left Edmund and walked up the narrow stairs, stopping and seeing if the dining room was empty, which it was.
Greg started sneaking through the dark hallways listening for any sounds, he did not wish to meet a friend or foe. All the doors he opened were bedrooms. He guessed that the secret pathway was downstairs. It would just make more sense if it was, he thought. He started to think if it was actually in a bedroom so he began searching more thoroughly. He had to look at every painting; he could not oversee anyone of them because if he did, he would have to start all over again which would take more than a few hours to do.
He had entered a hallway he had never been in before, he opened every door and looked at every painting. None of them was of a staircase, and none of them had the secret pathway.
Greg came to a large door and opened it; it was a dark ballroom. He could hear someone humming loudly, he moved his light around and saw Mary dancing alone in the darkness. What on earth was he doing? Should he confront her? Greg felt his blood boil in anger. She was the one who killed Brutus, he wanted to run up and hit her on the head with something hard or sharp.
Who was she dancing with? He could not see anyone but her, but it did not seem as if she was alone. The way she moved, the way she was resting her head. It looked like someone was dancing with her, but who?
Greg walked into the ballroom towards Mary, he was ready to give a piece of his mind. He clenched his fist and got in a fighting stance as he said, “Mary!”
Mary did not open her eyes; she did not move her head, and she just continued dancing with an invisible person. Mary opened her mouth and spoke in a dreamy voice, “I am not sure which one of them should die, Dorian.”
Greg’s heart started beating faster and he backed off a little. Who was going to die? Was this something Mary was trying to figure out? Was she planning on killing one of them? He had to warn the others, but he had to find the painting first. It would not take too long, he searched plenty of rooms and how many could there be left. He would probably be finished before Mary was done dancing.
He hurried out of the ballroom and continued the search for the painting with the searched pathway. He opened more and more doors, then finally he opened a storeroom. It was filled with two broomsticks and two buckets but on the wall was the painting of the staircase. The painting was large, and bits had started flaking off it; the frame was made with what looked like gold with a thick layer of dust.
Greg walked up to it and slid his fingers then the golden frame and the dust attached itself to his fingers making them look grey. He blew it off and watched as the dust flew up in the air. He grabbed the painting and started pulling on it, it was heavy but started to open like a door. Greg looked inside, it was a small room. It was not big enough to stand in but maybe sit, unless, you were very tall. There was an old lever that looked like it had rusted. The smell was strong, Greg could not say what it smelled like other than that it was a horrible sour smell. It was like smelling meat that had expired and was sitting on the kitchen counter.
He climbed into it, the floor was sticky and he had to work to get his hands loose and legs loose as he made himself comfortable. He tried to pull on the lever, but it was stuck. He pulled harder, it felt like he was going to rip it off, but it worked with him and the elevator started going down.
It went slowly and stopped often, the further he went down, the worst the sour smell got. The air became less and less fresh and it felt like he was suffocating, it felt like his lungs were on fire and an elephant was sitting on his chest.
The elevator was loud, screeching as it went down, screeching as it stopped and started. Greg started to sweat; his T-shirt was getting wetter on his back which made him shiver because the air felt ice cold as if he was sitting in a freezer. He tried to lift his foot off the floor, but his trousers were stuck. He ripped it loose, and then he ripped his other trouser leg free.
He started gagging and choking on the strong smell. It stenched of sour death, rot and decay. He heard weak laughter coming from below him. It was his imagination, it had to be unless there was a ghost down there. Do ghosts not have the capability of smell? What creature living, or dead would choose to live in that stench, thought Greg. The elevator stopped.
Greg looked around; he was in a large tunnel-like room. The walls were cave walls, he ripped himself loose and climbed out; he heard something crack under his foot, he looked down and saw a crushed skull beneath his shoe. Oh god, he thought, someone was dead here.
He looked around and saw hundreds of human skeletons, vomit filled his mouth and he spat it out on top of someone’s ribs.
The elevator started making noise, he turned around saw it heading back up leaving him trapped.
There was no need to worry, there had to be another way out, or maybe the elevator would come back down. Perhaps it was on a form of timer.
Greg’s heart was racing as he looked around. The ground was covered in skeletons, he could hear bone cracking as he walked around. The sound made him flinch and the stench made him gag. Greg could hear squeaking noises coming from all over the room, he could hear scratching noises, and he could hear the sound of something small running around.
He looked down and saw a half-eaten rat with intestines hanging out of its stomach. The rat looked fresh as if it had been killed recently but that could not be true.
He felt something hard hit him in his chest, it was a skull, which cracked as it hit the cold hard wet ground. There was a weak laughing noise, which did not make Greg calmer. He was not alone. Was there a ghost watching him? Why would a ghost throw a skull at him?
Greg continued to walk around, he kept both his feet, head and light moving. He didn’t want to be in the same spot for much longer than he had to.
He could hear rats running around but he could also hear the footsteps of something much larger moving about. The sound of a rat screaming echoed around the tunnel. Greg pointed his flashlight towards where the sound came from and saw something flying towards him. Something hit him in the chest and knocked him over. He landed on top of a ribcage.
Greg felt something scratch his chest and he heard the rat screaming. The rat was on top of him. The rat ran onto his throat and climbed up on his chin and from there the rat went to his lips and started clawing and sniffing.
The rat was wet and smelled of urine. Greg tried to shake it off, but it clung on to his lips and would not let go. Greg grabbed a hold of the wet rat, it tried to fend him off, but he tossed it away as he turned around to his side and ended up staring face to face with a skull. Greg could see a rat inside the skull, they were both staring at each other. The rat made a move towards Greg and Greg jumped up without hesitation.
He started walking around and then he saw something big, it looked like a box. Greg walked up to it and saw that it was a black steel coffin. It looked big enough to hold two people and maybe even three.
Was Karen’s neckless inside? There was only one way to find out. Greg started pushing the steel lid, it was heavy. A loud shriek filled the tunnel, and someone shouted in a creepy high-pitched tone, “DON’T TOUCH MASTER!” Before Greg had the time to look up, he felt something jump at him and knock his flashlight out of his hand.
Greg looked up and saw a dirty, bald and pale man stand over him. The man screamed at the light, punched Greg in the face and ran off. Then everything went dark.
Greg felt something poke at him and shake him. He heard someone saying his name but did not feel like getting up. Something was poking him in his back, it was like he was laying on a hard wet bulky bed. It was the strangest bed he had ever been on. He opened his eyes and saw Edmund standing over him saying his name. Where was he? What was that awful sour stench? He had had the weirdest dream that he had been attacked by rats and creepy guy. He looked around and saw that he was in the tunnel. He turned around and saw what he was lying next to. He screamed because he was not only lying next to a decapitate skeleton but on top of the skeleton were five fat wet rats.
Edmund helped him back on his feet and told him that he looked terrible. “I guess you have met Nails,” said Edmund.
“Who?”
“It’s not important…we have to get out of here.”
Greg picked up his flashlight and looked around, he saw the bald guy. The man was hunched back and was just wearing a loincloth. The man seemed to be afraid of the light, it was as if he was a vampire.
“Is that Nails?” asked Greg and Edmund nodded.
Greg took a few deep breaths and gagged on the horrible smelling air. He felt light-headed, he needed to sit down but he knew that he could not sit where he was.
“We need to get out of here,” said Edmund as he waved his light around. It seemed as if he was keeping Nails at bay and Greg was glad that he did so.
They walked backwards towards the elevator, Greg wondered if the elevator was waiting for them or if they were trapped down there. They both used their lights to keep Nails away because he was always trying to come closer. He hissed as the light landed on him, then he moved away and tried to come at from a different place.
Greg looked back and saw that the elevator was down there waiting for them. He climbed inside it and Edmund was right behind him. Nails came running at them, they both pointed their lights and him and he jumped to the side. Nails came closer and closer, Greg grabbed the lever and tried to pull on it to make it go up, but it was stuck.
Nails came closer, Edmund could not fend him off by himself. Finally, the lever gave in and the elevator began moving upwards. They could hear Nails screaming in hatred at them.