Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Eight, Part Nine, Part Ten, Part Eleven, Part Twelve, Part Thirteen, Part Fourteen, Part Fifteen, Part Sixteen, Part Seventeen, Part Eighteen, Part Nineteen
A spider jumped from the ceiling and landed on my face, and the thing was huge. I reached up as quickly as I could, moving faster than I probably ever had in my life, and swatted the monster off of my face. Before the thing could run away I stomped on it, ending it for good. In hindsight I might have overreacted just a little bit but I really, really hate spiders. I would have rather have dealt with every ghost in the world than deal with one, tiny spider.
Roy was staring at me like I had three heads.
“Seriously?” he asked me.
“I don’t like spiders,” I responded.
“At of all the things you face you are afraid of spiders?”
“They’re so creepy. They have eight fury legs and like a hundred eyes, and they crawl around like the little creep bags they are.”
“Sometimes you astound me.”
“Don’t act all high and mighty.”
“Pull yourself together.”
He turned around and started walking further down the hallway. I contemplated knocking him upside the head but that wouldn’t do either of us any good. Instead I followed him.
We continued to search from room to room, looking for anything that could tell us what was going on and that is when I remembered the journal. I opened it back up and continued to read.
September 6, 1892
It is the second day of my experiment. Subject holds on, hopeful that he may survive. He will not. But he cannot let go yet as the procedure will take several days.
Blah, blah, blah. And blah blah blah blah blah. Skipping ahead a little bit.
September 7, 1892
Subject did not survive the third day. I am frustrated to say the least but experiments take time and will result in several failures. I will need to head back into the city to find another test subject.
“What’s this?” Roy asked. I looked up to see what he was talking about.
We were in a room lined with books, sort of like the library but full of encyclopedias and various journals.
“What’s what?” I asked him.
“This,” he repeated. He was looking at something that was sitting on top of one of the bookcases that was attached to the wall. The thing he was looking at was some sort of statue.
“It looks like a statue,” I said.
“That is does. But I just have a weird gut feeling about.”
Roy studied it, trying to discover all of its secrets as if it would just reveal itself by him staring at it. Eventually he reached up and pulled on the statue. He didn’t have a good grip on it though and it dropped to the floor, smashing into pieces.
“Smooth,” I teased.
“I guess I was wrong,” he stated.
“What were you expecting?”
“You know in the movie when they pull on something on a bookcase and it reveals a secret room? I was expecting that.”
“Why in the world would you think you have to pull on a statue? It’s always a book on the shelf.”
I randomly reached up and grabbed a book to prove a point. Nothing happened.
“There isn’t going to be a secret room,” I said. “Especially since the torture chamber is there for anyone to go into.” I paused for a second. “This guy had a wife.”
“So?” Roy wasn’t making the connection. That might have been because he hadn’t read the journal.
“He was hiding this place from his wife.”
“And your point is?”
“I think it’s crazy to believe that his wife never came down here. So how could he hide it?”
“I don’t know. Maybe there used to be a lock on the door to get down here.”
I looked around the room a couple of times.
“Let’s get out of here,” I suggested. “This room gives me the creeps.”
“Really?” Roy asked. “Why?”
“I don’t know. It just does.”
We left. That room really did give me the creeps and I didn’t know why. It made my skin crawl. Later I would find out exactly why that room freaked me out…