Page 3 of Slash or Smash
CHAPTER THREE
RAVEN
As the elevator dings open,a lavish yet decrepit door greets us. Cobwebs, dead flowers, a rusted door knocker—everything you would expect to find on the doorstep of a haunted mansion, including the door slowly opening on its own. One by one, we trail inside the dimly lit foyer, and by dimly lit, I mean the singular candle sitting on the table beside the entry. As soon as Nina makes it inside, the door closes behind her, effectively locking us into the eerie, gothic space.
We stand there for a moment, taking it all in. If I’d been blindfolded and brought in here without prior knowledge, I’d think this was an actual mansion. There’s a set of broken stairs that wrap around the foyer, and two doors on either side of us that are undoubtedly locked.It evensmellsold,like that stale air you find in houses that have been vacant for quite some time. The attention to detail and the sheer size of it is insane. It actually hurts my brain. How they can fit something so grand in this building doesn’t compute. Like, the math ain’t mathing.
“Okay, let’s get moving. We only have an hour,” I tell the girls, peeling my gaze away from the spiderweb-dustedchandelier above us. “Start touching everything. Look for things we can push or pull.”
We scatter about without another word and begin the hunt. Nina and Letti take the back of the room, Frankie and Audrey comb the middle, and I inspect the front. All the while, creaking floorboards, faint whispers, and what sounds like a heartbeat sound off around us, adding an extra layer of adrenaline to the experience. Doesn’t take long for me to find an envelope tucked into the back of a small drawer within the very same table we passed on our way in.
“Found it!” I call out, ripping the wax seal open.
On the folded paper, in a calligraphy handwriting, reads:
I have no voice, yet I speak to you. I have no soul, but reflect one, too. I hang in the halls both day and night, watching all who pass on by.
“A painting,” we all say in unison, our heads cranking around to scan the room. There’s six in total, two a piece on the side walls and one on both the front and back.
I immediately reach for the one above the table, pushing and pulling. Nothing happens, though. The frame is perfectly flush to the wall and doesn’t budge even an inch. The girls disperse and do the same. Letti eventually finds the one, a loud click sounding off as a lock disengages, and she pulls open the painting—a finely dressed woman—like a door. Behind the frame lies a flashlight…and a safe.
“That was too easy,” Frankie grumbles. “I really hope all the puzzles aren’t like this.”
Nina smacks her and rolls her eyes. “Does the safe open?”
Letti gives it a wiggle, but it’s locked tight. “Nope.”
“Try the flashlight,” Audrey suggests. “We probably have to find the combination.”
Sure enough, the second Letti clicks the button, a purple glow illuminates some of the space around us, revealing a tiny number 6on the wall beside the safe. I make a mental note of it as we immediately continue on around the room in search of the other two numbers. Takes us a few minutes, including discerning the correct combination, but eventually we’re able to open the safe.
There’s a few immovable objects inside meant only for decor and another envelope. Frankie opens it this time and reads the riddle aloud.“Stone or glass, they do not sleep. In silent halls, their vigil keep. Some look high, and some look low, but only one sees where you must go. Behind the one whose gaze is true, lies the path that waits for you.”
“Another painting?” she says quizzically—and comically annoyed.
“No, I don’t think so,” Letti states as she shines the blacklight around the room. “Look up. There’s statues and busts placed in different spots.”
Following her lead, the girls and I shift our attention above us. There’s various shelves strategically placed around the foyer, some housing a combination of busts, books, flowers, and other time period appropriate pieces.
“You’re probably right,” Audrey agrees. “They’re all made of stone or glass.”
“Read me the last part again,” I tell Frankie, squinting my eyes through the low light.
“Behind the one whose gaze is true, lies the path that waits for you.”
“The eyes,” Nina states. “Check their eyes. One of them might even be turned slightly so.”
One by one, we observe each statue and have a quick debate on whether or not it’s the right one. By the time we’ve thoroughly inspected them all, we’re torn between two. The first has a direct line of sight to one of the locked doors and the other is sitting in a very odd angle.
“First one is too obvious,” I explain. “Too easy. He’s looking right at the visible door. That can’t be it.”
“Uh, guys?” Frankie calls out, her voice sounding further away than it was moments ago. When we spin around, she’s all the way on the other side of the room, a piece of the wall cracked open. “Pretty sure it’s this way.”
Sure enough, the strangely angled bust was the right answer, and with a big pull, Frankie reveals the next room.
A hidden library.
CHAPTER FOUR
