The three watched in horror as The Butler, a seemingly neutral spirit, vanished into thin air. While his calm demeanor was a bit disturbing, it was a comfort to know not all the spirits were complete psycho paths. Miles took off his hat and brushed off some dust before placing it back on his head. He pushed his glasses to the top of his nose before speaking.
"Well, we best be moving on then. No telling what insanity will show its face next." he half joked. The two women nodded in agreement and continued to walk down the hallway at the top of the stairs. The blood of the author splattered the walls on the side of the stair case, and a broken railing ahead reminded them of Elyssa's devastating fall. They walked past in silence, paying their respect. On the first door on the right, Charlotte noticed something strange.
"Look here." she said, pointing to a slightly open door. Dirt littered the bottom of the door frame and a clump of withered flower petals sat nearby. Miles stepped forward and pushed the door open the rest of the way.
"That's strange." he said, looking in the room. "There's dirt everywhere. And the wood and wallpaper looks split in various places, like something grew out of it."
"Maybe this used to be a gardening room and nature has just taken over. Let's go." Jacqueline urged.
"That would make sense... if there were still roots here." Miles said, intrigued by the strange appearance of the room. "But it's as if they grew into the entire room and then just sucked themselves right back into the earth. And normally gardening tools are kept in the basement or outside separate from the house. Especially in a big mansion like this." Miles picked up one of the petals off the floor and it crumbled away in his hand. "I think this might've been the doing of another one of those spirits."
"Well standing here examining it doesn't get us anywhere. We need to find the Doctor." Jacqueline reminded Miles while he stared into the room with fascination.
"You two go on ahead, I'll catch up." Miles said, taking a step into the room. He got on one knee and began to closely examine all the individual indents in the wood, each one about as thin and as long as wire. Charlotte tapped her foot impatiently.
"We aren't leaving without you, that's how people keep ending up dead, remember?" she insisted with an irritated tone in her voice. Miles simply ignored her and continued to examine the floor.
Interesting... It seems there really were roots growing here at some point... But where did they go? There's no sign of a human yanking them out. How peculiar... roots that can grow larger and smaller at will. Suddenly Miles was hit with a burst of inspiration. He took off his hat and took a tiny piece of paper out from the under the fold, then placed it back on his head. He retrieved his favorite designer pen from his pocket -a heavy, golden ink pen with a point so sharp it could pierce steel (or so Miles liked to claim)- from his front pocket and began to furiously write down ideas for a new song. He began with a few lyrics to sing the tune to.
Who would've thought that in this hell-forsaken Mansion, in such a dire situation I would find the inspiration I've been searching years for.
Jacqueline and Charlotte watched in amazement as the man began writing a song right in front of them, no longer acknowledging their existence. Charlotte huffed and stomped away.
"Fine! We'll find her without you!" she growled, walking away.
"Charlotte wait!" Jacqueline yelled, following behind.
Miles filled up the front side of the paper with various lyrics and notes. He looked around the room with wonder, completely dumb founded by the way nature had affected the room. Finally content with what ideas he'd come up with, Miles placed the paper back in his hat and twirled the pen between his fingers as he concluded his thoughts.
I better catch up to those two, I wouldn't want anything to happen. I can't believe I zoned out like that. Miles placed a hand on the floor behind him for leverage and began to stand to his feet when a loud creak and a shift in the floor beneath halted him.
Oh no... What Miles had failed to consider about the roots growing into the whole floor and retreating back out was that he was actually on the second floor. There were no trees or stumps around to even grow into the room. They'd literally come from nowhere and now had weakened the wood all around him.
Which means... the wood beneath Miles suddenly began to split in the various cracks caused by the roots. Miles felt the floor dip towards the middle and began sliding towards it. He wanted to get up and leap for the door, but any sudden shift of movement would only make the floor collapse quicker. Slowly the wood began to crumble away starting at the center. It all happened so fast that when Miles yelled to the others for help, the wood beneath him had already taken all the pressure it could and gave way. Immediately Miles fell one whole floor, landing flat on his back in a dark and dusty room.
Barely able to move, Miles winced his eyes open. He was in a nearly pitch black room, the only light coming from the whole in the room above him that he'd fallen through. He tried to sit up but just fell back in pain completely unable to move. He'd definitely broken a rib, if not two, and his ankle was twisted.
At least I survived the fall... Miles thought too soon though, as on the floor above, the pen he'd been writing with rolled towards the hole in the middle and fell straight down. The heavy designer pen plummeted towards Miles and pierced him in the throat before he could even react. And as if that wasn't enough, the pressure of the pen puncturing his skin had caused it to leak ink straight into his neck. Miles gagged for nearly a minute before slowly fading away to the darkness.