...and Fall
You take a step forward, and immediately plunge downward through the blackness. You fall, and fall...or perhaps you're floating. Come to think of it, you aren't sure that you're still going down. Maybe you're not moving at all.
But that doesn't make sense, you realize. Gravity was definitely in full effect when you entered the room, so you must be falling. And you're sure you'll hit the ground sooner or later. Of course, with as long as you've been falling, you'd better hope that you land on something soft.
And at that instant, you do. You land impossibly gently on the soft ground, your fall interrupted as soon as you realize that it has to be interrupted. This gives you an idea. You must be on some sort of mattress, you decide. And so you step off the mattress onto a hard floor.
The mattress was at the top of a flight of stairs, you decide. You walk down the stairs. Clearly, this room is at least partially under your control. "I wish I had a light," you say out loud. Nothing happens. But of course nothing happens! It doesn't work that way. "I DO have a light," you say. This time a single bare bulb flickers on. It gives so little light that you can barely see your own hand in front of your face. It is suspended from above, but the sphere of illumination ends before it even comes close to touching the ceiling. You stand in the dim light, unsure of what to do next.
Your mind wanders back to the screaming you heard before, and you begin to hear it again. I will find the source of the screaming, you think. Nothing happens. I will receive information regarding the source of the screaming, you think. This time, a note card materializes on the floor. Holding it up to the dim light, you can just barely read: "The screaming is coming from your own mind, of course." How very helpful.
You realize that you need to find an exit, and better sooner than later. "The exit is right here," you say, and a door opens behind you, leading back to the compass rose. That's not what you wanted, though. It seems like the Western door was the way forward, and that finding the key was the goal of that last part of the mansion. Surely there must be something beyond this abyss, right?...Right?
Since you've stopped thinking about the doorway, it closes and vanishes. The floor, of course, remains in the back of your mind at all times for safety's sake. "The way to the next part of the challenge is right here," you say. Nothing happens. Increasingly frustrated, you say, "I will receive information as to why that didn't work!" You feel something twitch in your hand. You had forgotten about the note card so it disappeared, but there it is again, with a new message on it:
"What makes you think there is a 'next part of the challenge'?" Angrily, you shred the card into little pieces and throw them into the darkness.
"There is a next part of the challenge!" you shout.
Finally, the Voice speaks again: "That's a rather bold assumption. How do you know there aren't only two rounds?"
"If there are only two rounds, then I should be done now!" you yell into the void.
"Perhaps. But consider this: I told you when you arrived here that you'd change forms. And yet you've only transformed twice--once into a tiger, then another time back into your own form."
"What does that have to do with anything?" You scream, desperate.
"Oh," the Voice answers, beginning to fade, "It has everything to do with everything. But I'm not going to spell it out for you."
"I will receive information as to how to get to Round 3," you say confidently.
"Now," the Voice says again, "that only works when I want it to. Although if you're going to take much longer on this, you might want to summon yourself some food and maybe a bathroom. I will say this, though. Even if you get past this, you'll only be about halfway through Round 2, there's more to it than just the compass hallways."
"What am I supposed to do?" you ask.
"There are many points in the mansion where you will change forms," the Voice says, "remember that?"
Suddenly, it dawns on you, and you say, shakily, "I am going to turn into a...
Written by Zodiac on 29 December 2008
The end (for now)