Ariel nodded and tucked her temperature chart under her arm. In the hallway, Leroy pulled out a small piece of paper from his robes - the map Jasper had given him. Ariel exhaled and relaxed. She hadn't been eager to wander the deserted halls of the Marlowe Playhouse again, but now...
Good, Leroy can lead us back.
Beside her, John looked equally relieved. Following Leroy's confident lead, Ariel allowed her attention to drift...
Window, door, lamp.
Window, door, lamp.
Window, door, lamp.
Ariel felt her focus starting to wane. How long until they reached base? Would she even be awake by then? A sickening feeling washed over Ariel. She was tired. Exhausted. She was slipping, sinking deeper; she was going to...
Ariel stopped and clenched her jaw,
What's happening...?
She blinked rapidly, struggling to keep her eyes open. It felt as if time had slowed down; the room blurred around her until everything suddenly became clear. Ahead of them in a small corner of the hallway they had just turned down stood a door, calling to her.
"Ariel?" A sharp voice snapped her back to reality.
Abruptly released from her trance, Ariel's throat went dry and her heart pounded as she looked at Leroy standing beside her with concern burning in his eyes. She tried to speak but no words came out; she couldn't stop herself from staring at the door that lured her gaze.
"That- that door," she finally managed to say, unable to resist its pull as she moved toward it, drawn in more and more as she approached. Leroy reached out for her but missed.
Ariel's eyes traced the door intently, searching for something unknown. Her gaze followed the wood grains down past the handle to the floor where barely an inch stuck out: the edge of a rug. Ariel bent down, mesmerized by it as if she had discovered treasure. The corner was frayed and faded but unmistakable—she had seen this rug before. A firm hand pulled Ariel to her feet and back a few steps.
"Ariel, what are you doing? Are you okay?" Leroy asked, looking at her as though she'd lost her mind. Ariel stared at Leroy as if she barely recognized him before shaking her head to regain control.
John silently positioned himself between Ariel and the door, his blue eyes filled with concern. Ariel took a calming breath; her heart no longer pounded quite so hard, and she managed a small reassuring smile.
"Really, I'm fine..." Ariel insisted, emphasizing her words when confronted with skeptical looks. She glanced back at the door, but John blocked her view, and Leroy's firm grip remained on her shoulder. With a determined frown, Ariel shrugged off Leroy's hand and sidestepped past John.
"Leroy, there's something here; we need to enter this room," she explained, fixing her gaze on the familiar goddess depicted at the edge of the rug. Without waiting for a response, she reached for the door handle and turned it. The door opened with a click and a creak. Ariel coughed and covered her nose as a strong musty odor greeted her. Peering into the darkness and brushing away swirling dust from her eyes, Ariel took a step forward and suddenly halted.
As her eyes adjusted to the dim light, Ariel's suspicions were confirmed: there was a fireplace, two large chairs, and a small table between them. She realized she was standing in exactly the same place as in her dream, with a rug beneath her feet depicting Greek goddesses. Her wide eyes darted to the windows; as expected, they were draped with heavy curtains.
"What... what is this place?" Leroy asked, coming to stand beside her, looking around in confusion.
"It appears to be some kind of office, but why is it in such disrepair?" John wondered aloud, running his hand along a shelf coated in dust. Movement near the fireplace caught Ariel's attention; she let out a small cry. Instantly alert, Leroy and John tensed up.
"Ariel- what is it?" the monk asked sharply, his eyes scanning their surroundings. Nearby, John clutched his cross and squinted into the shadows.
Materializing before Ariel was the shape of a man—then he stood there as real as herself. Ariel braced for the icy wave of fear or an urge to scream—but nothing came. She stared blankly at the old man from her dreams: his gentle eyes and deeply lined face seemed incredibly lifelike.
"Ariel?" Leroy urged; she could feel his intense gaze. The old man raised a finger to his lips in a silent plea for silence. Numbly, she nodded.
They can't see him...
"Ariel, are you alright? Why did you cry out?" John asked, trying to reach her. Tearing her gaze away from the spot near the fireplace where she had been staring,
"I- I thought I saw a mouse," she stammered, clutching at John for effect. Leroy scrutinized her for a moment before shaking his head,
"Hey now, what's gotten into you?" he questioned critically. "You're the one who wanted to come in here; let's go..."
John nodded in agreement as Leroy placed a guiding hand on Ariel's shoulder. But as Ariel glanced back at the old man, urgency sharpened his features; he quickly pointed toward the small table where an overlooked frame sat gathering dust in the gloom. Her eyes widened in realization—suddenly wrenching free from Leroy's grasp—she knew she couldn't leave just yet...
"Ariel!" the monk cried out after her, his voice tinged with bewilderment and worry. Just moments before he could catch up to her, a piercing scream shattered the air. The trio's eyes shot towards the door in alarm,
"Taylor!" they shouted in unison as they bolted from the room. Ariel was already halfway down the hall, her heartbeat thundering in her ears—Taylor and Mandy were in danger...yet part of her remained in that abandoned room, making its way toward that table...
Ariel halted abruptly; she was now several yards behind Leroy and John. If she moved quickly, they wouldn't notice her absence. Steeling herself with a deep breath, Ariel turned back and sprinted towards the room. The door stood ajar, a silent invitation into the darkness. Breathless, Ariel stepped inside, her eyes immediately locking onto the old man who still stood there, almost as if he had been waiting for her. A shiver ran down her spine despite the heat climbing up her neck and cheeks,
He knew I would return...
Ariel shook off the trepidation, setting her jaw with resolve—there was no room for fear. She needed to see that picture and leave. With determined steps, she crossed to the small table. Dust billowed up as she lifted it from its resting place, causing Ariel to cough. She squinted through watery eyes at a photo of a little girl. She hesitated momentarily, glancing at the old man and startling at how close he now seemed.
"Should...I take it?" she asked quietly.
The old man nodded, his eyes gleaming in the dim light. Swallowing hard, Ariel began disassembling the frame with urgency. Her fingers trembled but finally—success. Clutching the delicate picture in her hands, Ariel cast one last look at the old man before dashing out of the room.