Malik could only guess that morning had arrived now, considering this place was operating on rules which were expected of the world outside, but were never really followed. Not all mansions were pristine displays of wealth, as they were homes and everybody had their own, individual tastes in décor and homes always accrued marks of sentimental memories and style.
And in TV shows, camping fires always burned throughout the night, only going out in the morning for no particular reason, as if extinguished by the light of the sun.
Malik didn't want to open the door though. It was still a risk that he wasn't particularly willing to take. He would rather do anything else than open the door, but he needed to leave this place, and return back to his Grandma.
No risk, no reward.
He forced his body to still, and pulled himself into standing. He turned directly around, towards the door and made the first step towards it. He gulped once, noting how his throat hadn't dried, and how he wasn't feeling hungry, at all, and added it to the list of potential things to ask the scientist.
He took a second step, then a third, then a fourth, all the way to the chaise that he had dragged to the door, blocking the door handle from potentially turning.
He reminded himself to ask why the rooms were special, and why the monsters couldn't get themselves into them, despite them easily possessing the strength to break through walls with their bare hands.
He tugged the chaise towards him once, and gritted his teeth as it refused to budge. He took a deep breath and tried again, pulling with a stronger force, and felt it shift slightly, and high pitched squeak echoing throughout the room.
There was no audible shift in movement behind Malik. The old crone was still asleep, thank fuck.
He pulled the chaise even harder, towards him, and almost fell backwards, stumbling a few steps as it gave way, and fell forward onto the floor, a loud crash echoing through the room. Malik winced at the noise, and listened for the old lady again, hearing nothing once more.
The woman had to be awake. Nobody could sleep through something so loud. It just didn't make any sense at all. He was almost tempted to walk over to her chair, and shake her. Almost. Nothing in the world would make him want to talk to that bitch more than he already had.
It would be a mercy to never see her ever again.
Malik turned back to the door, in front of him, and picked the chaise up, so it was righted, before pushing it towards the side of the door, against the wall, where he had first pulled it from to barricade the door, putting it out of the way.
The handle had been turned all the way, locking the door, and Malik hesitated, before leaning down and grabbing it. He closed his eyes for a second, and brought his hand up, feeling around for it, before his fingers met the cold metal. A shiver ran through him and he opened his eyes, seeing nothing but the inky blackness.
As slow as he could, he turned the handle, making sure that he could not hear his own movements as he did so, his ears firmly listening out for the growls, scraping and cracking of the monsters.
There was only silence though, and Malik kept turning the handle.
The loudest thing he could hear was his own heartbeat, emanating from a chest where the heart really oughtn't be beating, considering that he was dead.
The dreaded click, of the unlocking door seemed as if it were louder than a siren, so loud that it virtually hurt Malik's ears, the sound ringing through them over and over again, seemingly never ending to him.
He waited for the noise to dissipate, and for the silence to return, and it did, beginning to feel like an old friend to Malik, descending upon his mind like a healing balm.
As long as he couldn't hear anything, as long as the silence prevailed, then he knew that he was safe, and free to move.
Malik opened the door, the tiniest of slithers, and rejoiced internally as a tiny golden stream of light, leaking through the crack between the door and its frame, making its way into the room. He held himself back from opening the door the full way, preferring to keep opening it incrementally.
Even if the monsters were all gone, now that it was daytime, he could not exactly be sure of the people around him.
The old woman had delighted in telling the story of how she had murdered her sister, and there were probably others just like her, stalking around this creepy, too perfect house, just like her. Even if he could not be physically hurt, he could still feel pain, and that would probably be enough to satisfy any violent sadist that was probably prowling around in the shadows.
And Malik would rather meet some mindless monster, made of the people who he did not kill, than run into one of them. It would be so much easier to navigate himself out of an encounter with some beast, rather than somebody who could argue back.
The stream of light grew wider and brighter, until Malik could look through the space that he had made, to examine the area around the door. He swung it open, mostly letting it move by itself, outwards, and ducked back into the room, keeping his back to wall, in case anything was going to come in, and take the bait of the door, the chaise ready within reach to batter them.
But nothing came, and silence still prevailed over the setting.
Malik peeped outside, ready to survey the damage done to the corridors, and the holes in the walls, only to see that, overnight, the building had seemingly been completely wrecked.
It looked as if it had been abandoned for over one hundred years, completely different from the night before.
Malik looked back into the room that he had been hiding in, and saw that there was nobody sitting on the chair at the fireplace, the wall paper almost completely faded, and a giant hole in the floor, right over where Malik had walked to get to the door.