Chapter I

It took a while before her eyes adjusted to the darkness. Where was she? How did she even get there? The last thing she remembered was something hard and blunt hitting her on the back of her head, and then she was out like a light.

Now she was here, in some sort of cellar. It smelled damp and rotten, as if someone had been throwing rotten meat in here. I have to get out, she thought. Where do I start? She got to her feet and it took a few steps before she got blood rushing back to her legs. It was so dark that she wasn't sure whether she was touching rotten meat or just some sacks. 

Finally, her hand fell on something cylindrical. It was a flashlight, judging from the switch she felt. Luckily, the battery hadn't died out as it still turned on. She wasn't far from the door, and she saw a note stuck on it. She ripped the paper off and saw a short letter scribbled on it in red ink. It said: 

Find a way out.

I don't even know where I am, how am I supposed to find a way out, she thought as she opened the door and pocketed the note. She was now in a long, dimly-lit corridor. There were no other paths save for moving forward, and forward she went. Luckily, the swinging lamps on the ceiling made it easier for her to see, thus she didn't need the flashlight. 

At the end of the corridor, there was another note stuck on the right side of the door. Taking it, now it said:

He loved you too much.

Who loved me too much, she thought, pocketing the second note and opening the door. She now found herself in a sort of kitchen area. There were no cooks present, but it was obvious that a meal had just been prepared, judging from the pots, pans, and knives. There was another note stuck on the counter, and upon reading it, her blood ran cold.

He sees you. He sees everything.

She felt a chill run up her spine. Was it her or did it just become colder? Who was it that the note referred to? Now she had to be cautious. Whoever it was that "saw" everything must be the same person who "watched" her. She made sure to pocket this note and carefully made her way out of the kitchen, and into a large, luxurious dining hall. It was everything she could only dream of: a long table covered in velvet drapery, two candelabras on top, and dishes covered in silver domes as far as her eyes could see. There were massive, curtain-draped windows on the side, but the pitch-black darkness made it hard for her to see what was outside.

Behind the high-backed chairs was an ornate fireplace, and above it was a huge portrait of a young man with short, dark hair and bright, brown eyes. His high cheekbones and somehow less than pale complexion indicated some Hispanic ancestry, and despite how life-like and sinister his intense gaze might seem, he was actually very good-looking. On the nameplate it said:

Michael de Almeida-Royston

Who is that, she thought. And why does his name sound so familiar? A sharp pain then shot through her head, causing her to fall down on one knee. Clutching her head, she saw flashes of images in her head, kind of like a vision. In it, she saw the same young man smiling at her. His eyes twinkled with happiness as his hand was outstretched. He was... speaking to her, but no sound came out of his mouth.

The vision ended, and she found herself still with her knee on the ground, her hands on her head. Her heart was beating so fast, she felt as if it would jump out of her chest. I have to get out of here, she thought. I need to find a way out. She cautiously found her way out of the dining room and into some sort of entrance hall.

There were lots of stairs, and everything seemed like a maze to her. She found herself standing on the eastern side of what seemed to be a large, Victorian mansion. Stairs and corridors led to so many places unknown, she got confused. How do people even find their way around, she thought as she looked at the assortment of doors and passageways. There were some leading to an upper level, while some led to a lower level. The main staircase led to the reception hall with a large double door. Must be the way out, she thought.

She quietly made her way to the door and tried to push it open, only to find it locked. Yet another note was there, wedged in the keyhole. She pulled it out, and in the familiar, faded red ink, it said:

He'll never let you out. Find another way.

Now her eyes were wide and her heart was racing with panic. It seemed like someone had tried to escape but was in vain, and judging from the notes, whoever owned the mansion wouldn't let her out. She had two corridors on either side. Where to go, where to go, she thought. As she was deciding on which path to take, she heard footsteps coming from the upper level of the mansion.

Oh shit, what if it's the owner of the house, she thought. I have to get out of here. The footsteps became louder, and she had to make a break for it. She went for the left passageway, which was a hallway lined with knights' armor. She ran its length and, for some reason, she felt as if it were getting longer. It felt like a never-ending sprint until she finally reached the door at the end of the hallway. 

A crooked smile formed on his face as he saw her running towards the left corridor. I'll have you again, he thought. Just like I did before. And this time, you will never leave me. Never. He then disappeared in a cloud of wispy, black smoke, leaving only the glow of sinister, crimson eyes.

---

She found herself in a library with a spiral staircase going up. There were rows upon rows of books and and a high-backed leather chair with a crackling fireplace at the side. There was a small, round table with one of the notes on it. Quickly, she took the note, and this was a bit longer than the usual. It seemed like a letter of sorts, also written in the faded red ink. This letter said:

This is no longer bearable, my love. I am nothing but a canary locked in a gilded cage of false promises. What has happened to you? I can only write this from the solace of my study as this is my place of comfort, and safety.

Death seems to be the only way out. You have clipped my wings and shut me off from the world. Why have you brought this darkness to your heart, my dearest? I see you being overcome by this malice and it pains me to see you succumbing to it. I still hold onto the hope that you will once again find the light.

- D.S.

Who could this be, she thought. As she was about to pocket the letter, she noticed a symbol drawn on its back. It seemed to be a serpent eating its own tail. 

She had never seen a symbol like it but she felt that it was something important. Her eyes then fell on the spiral staircase. She pocketed the note and quietly ascended the stairs, which led to a small but luxurious bedroom. 

The bed was large and laden with expensive-looking sheets, and there was a bedside table with a drawer. There was also a fireplace and above it was a portrait of a young lady with dark hair tied in a bun, and she was wearing what seemed to be a Victorian outfit. Whoever the artist was did a great job of making her life-like, much like the painting of Michael Royston downstairs.

The painting seemed to belong to a Dorothy Stein, according to its nameplate. Her mind then went back to the letter, which was signed with the initials "D.S." at the bottom. This must be her room, she thought as she looked out the window. Again, the pitch-black darkness prevented her from seeing where she was and what time of day it was. It was as if the world outside had disappeared in a blanket of ink.

Her body felt heavy, and she decided to sit on the bed. It was pretty soft, and it was nothing like she'd ever been on. She opened the drawer and saw a small, leatherbound journal with the name Dorothy Stein on it. Carefully, she opened the peeling leather covers and read the first entry, which was miraculously legible.

I can no longer remember how long I've been locked up in his house. Thankfully I've found this hidden bedroom in the study he gave me. This allows me to find temporary respite amidst the madness he has fallen into. Oh Michael dearest, why are you falling to the darkness? It seemed not too long ago that we were both happy and in love. Now... there is nothing between us except that malice and obsession. that had clouded your mind.. 

In between the first and second pages of the journal, there was another card with an image of two hooded skeletons holding each other in a loving manner.

The card was labeled "The Lovers" and at the back was another cryptic note:

He held my heart, and I his. His heart is the key. Locked in a box of ivory, behind a mirror mask..

His heart... in a box of ivory? What does that mean? Is it here, she thought to herself as she began looking around the room. She looked under the bed and in the drawer, but the ivory box that the note mentioned wasn't there. However, she did find a key made of glass, or crystal, she wasn't so sure, and decided to pocket it. For good measure, she took the journal and looked at the large mirror.

She looked so exhausted and worn out, as if she'd been in the mansion for days. How long has it been since I've been here anyway, she thought. Her eyes then fell on the bed. It looked so comfortable and inviting. Maybe... just a few minutes. Yeah, I'll get some rest. She made her way to the bed, lied down, and she was out like a light.