Murder Mansion - Enter This Deadly Home!

Murder Mansion

by Rob Fields

It’s 4^th of July night. I’m thinking maybe coming home from Shore City today wasn’t such a hot idea. The weather app on my smartphone said it wasn’t supposed to rain today. Just goes to show you can’t always believe weather reports. I’m driving in what seems like a torrential downpour as I’m on my way back to Strickfield University. 

I spent a week in Shore City. You’d think that I was out on the beaches there, especially close to 4^th of July weekend. Not at all. While I could probably turn a lot of heads in a bikini, I wasn’t there for that kind of vacation. No, I was working out a very challenging escape room. In fact, it was one of the more better-built ones I’ve done, especially when it was a contest with big money involved. When it comes to escape room contests, I enter as many as I know I can drive to. I really don’t have a choice. 

If you could take a good look at me, you’d probably be thinking that you’d want to date me. However, once we’d go on said date, you’d soon wish you’d never met me. The main reason is that I eat way too much. Ever see Shaggy Rogers in the Scooby-Doo cartoons? If so, then you’ve seen how much he eats, and he’s a cartoon. Thanks to my ultra-high metabolism, I have to stuff my face the way Shaggy does. In fact, that’s what I’m doing right now. 

I’ve got two huge bags of bacon double cheeseburgers in the passenger’s seat. Well, now one. I’ve just finished the first bag, and there’re fifteen burgers apiece in both bags. I’m not even feeling full yet. This is part of the reason why I do escape room contests for prize money. I work at the library at Strickfield University to both make a little money and get discounts. I have a scholarship that covers all my academic costs, but it doesn’t cover much in terms of my food. Not when I have to eat so much of it.

I won five grand in beating that escape room in Shore City, but it’s going to be gone before too long. I’m going to have to look for some new contests when I get back to my dorm. 

These burgers are delicious, but the ones at Denoyer’s Grill are so much better. Thinking about it, maybe I should have ordered three bags of burgers. I’ve already eaten three more out of the second bag. Keep in mind that these aren’t sliders. 

Let’s face it, the life of Bethany Martinson is a very lonely one. No guy wants to date me because of both my monstrous appetite and my mutant brain. I’ve come to find that guys don’t really like girls who are much smarter than them. In fact, I have a superior IQ. I got to skip two grades in high school. In fact, I’m only nineteen, and I’m a sophomore at university. And there are other guys that don’t want to date a throwback to the 1960s. 

Ever see the kind of clothes the Scooby gang wears? Well, picture Daphne’s dress but red, purple leggings like hers, red-and-tan pumps, a white scarf, a blue headband, and cat-eye-lensed glasses. I’m listening to The Mamas and the Papas on the oldies station. To put it mildly, I just don’t fit in with many of today’s trends. 

Also, I’ve had girls from the Kappa sorority give me a hard time. They’ve seen me eat at a few all-you-can-eat buffets and started calling me Bethany the Boar. I swear, people can be so stupid and mean. Sometimes, even I don’t understand people. Still, I keep my head up high and keep moving forward. I don’t know what those girls will do if they manage to graduate college. Me? I’m a detective. I’ll always have work. I just have to find things that pay. Thankfully, I’ve been able to find one escape room contest after another. 

In addition to the escape room contests, I’ve also been able to make some money helping police departments solve their toughest cases. Solving the cases gets me rewards. Truth be told, I don’t like taking the rewards, but I’ve got to eat. 

Speaking of eating, I’ve just finished my last bacon double cheeseburger. Two big bags of burgers – and I’m still not content. I’ll be back in Strickfield in a little while. Denoyer’s Grill, here I come. Thinking about those big cheeseburger platters is already making my stomach growl with anticipation. 

The rain’s really coming down now. I just have to take it easy, so I don’t go off the road. I want to make it to Denoyer’s Grill alive. I see the sign that says I’m only five miles from Strickfield now. However, I only manage two before I come up to the big detour sign in the middle of the road. 

“Whoa!” I utter when I see the bridge over the Castalia River is washed out completely. I remember driving across that bridge when I left Strickfield to go to Shore City. I’ll have to follow the detour to get back into the village. 

I turn off and drive along a very curvy road. The storm continues to grow more and more. The lightning flashes are more and more frequent, and the rain is coming down in heavy sheets. My eyes quickly open wide when I realize I’m being directed into the backwoods. You wouldn’t believe how many horror stories I’ve heard about this area floating around campus. There are even a few Strickfield websites that have made Creepypastas out of some of them, including stories about ghouls and cannibals. 

As a detective, I not only solve real-world cases, but I also dabble in the supernatural. I’ve actually debunked quite a few urban legends and haunted houses. Do I sound like I could be Dana Scully from The X-Files? Well, I wouldn’t go that far. She’s a skeptic to my being a believer. I’ve actually found a few houses that were really haunted in my life. None of them were in Strickfield. I’m still thinking about my very first one, which was an old woman who came back to take revenge on her grandson for murdering her to claim her fortune. I still get the creeps just thinking about it. 

I’d pull over and just wait out the storm, but I’m still hungry and need to get to Denoyer’s Grill. I’ve got the windshield wipers working overtime here, but I still can’t see much of anything except the rain and the lightning. As I’m rounding a long curve, a huge flash of lightning illuminates the road ahead enough for me to see a car. 

Right in the middle of the road! 

I scream and jam on the breaks. Then I feel the impact, and my car dies. I know I’m okay thanks to my seatbelt. I take a deep breath and compose myself. I’m going to have to call the police and have them come out here to clear this. Only that’s not going to happen. 

My smartphone’s screen is so badly damaged now that pieces of it just fell out. It must have hit just right against something in the crash. No way I’ll be able to use it. Well, I can’t just sit here in my car, not in the backwoods of Strickfield. I don’t have an umbrella, so it looks like I’m taking an impromptu shower. 

I get out of my car to check the damage. It’s dark, but I can see enough of the other car to scream. You’re not going to believe this, but the other car’s all burned up. In fact, there are three skeletons sitting inside. The only thing I can figure is the car hit a tree and exploded, based on how totaled the front of the car looks. Whoever these three people were didn’t have a chance of getting out and burned right down to their bones. As for the fire itself, the rain put it out. 

I really don’t have a choice. I’ve got to try and find a house somewhere so I can call the police and report this. I hope they can come ASAP. I’m okay now, but my ultra-high metabolism will burn up all those burgers I ate. Eventually, I’m going to be very hungry again.

I just pick a direction and start walking. It’s really windy out here. I walk for about fifteen minutes before the lightning flashes and reveals what looks like . . . a plantation. Like the kind you read about in Civil War history. The huge mansion looks like it’s definitely from that era. I would have never guessed the backwoods had mansions. 

Well, I can’t be choosy. Not in my situation! I need to at least take shelter inside. Hopefully, somebody’s home so I can use a phone. I may even have to trouble them for some food. 

The wind blows even harder as I’m on the front porch. I’m ready to knock on one of the French doors. Then I notice one of them is just slightly open. I push on it to find it opens easily and quickly step inside. The house is nicely lit. Seems to have some kind of electrical power. 

“Hello?” I call out. “Is anybody home?”

I call out some more but get no replies. No, I spoke too soon. The door I came in through suddenly slams shut behind me. I turn back to the doors and try to open them. Neither the doors nor the handles will budge. I move to the windows, but there are no latches to open them. Looks like I’m trapped in here. I’ll take it for right now since I’m out of the storm. I don’t have a choice. I’m going to have to explore my new shelter. 

I’m dripping all over the floor as I start walking. I might as well have just come out of a swimming pool after being in it with my clothes on. Every now and then, I call out and hope someone will hear me. 

After walking around for several minutes, I finally come into a huge living room. Yes! There are actually people in here. I already recognize three of them. In fact, I’ve seen the middle-aged men before many times. The first one is John Riddle, who used to work for the Sixth Precinct of the Erie City PD. The second man is Brian Davenport, who used to work for the Tenth Precinct of the Shore City PD. The last one is Ed Smith, who used to work for the Second Precinct of the Dayton PD. I say used to because I got them all fired. 

Remember when I told you police departments sometimes call me in to solve really tough cases? That’s what happened to these guys. They’re all former detectives. After I solved what were supposed to be some really tough serial killer cases, I’d read the top news stories about the cases being broken. I would also hear from my contacts that each detective had been fired. According to them, I made solving the cases look so easy. 

You’d think I’d never see the men again, right? Nope! Remember how I told you that I enter escape room contests? These guys have been at nearly every single one of them. They work together to try and win the cash prizes. I keep winning at the escape rooms and claiming the prizes. For my part, it’s nothing personal. The men, however, have taken it quite personal and still resent me to this day. Even their looks right now are resentful. They hate me because I’m so much smarter than them, not to toot my own horn, and I’m young enough to be a daughter to each man. 

“Well, look what the cat dragged in,” John Riddle sneers. 

“You didn’t tell me your daughter was coming,” Ed Smith jokes with Brian Davenport. 

Brian groans and bumps him with his elbow. “Piss off!”

I immediately notice the three men aren’t wet in the slightest. Maybe they’ve been here a while. Who can say for sure? 

Then I see an older couple sitting in their own comfy chairs who look to be in their seventies. Both have gray hair, and the man doesn’t have a beard. They’re dressed in clothes that match this plantation. 

“I’m sorry,” I tell them. “Is this your house? I didn’t mean to just walk on in, but I had an accident out on the main road. Do you have a phone I can use to call for help?”

The man replies to me, “Storm’s nasty out there, ain’t it? Sorry ta be tha bearer a bad news, young lady, but there ain’t no phone in this house. Never has been. Yer more an welcome ta wait out tha storm here.”

I sigh. “No phone?”

“That’s what he said,” Ed Smith says rudely. “And don’t look to us for a phone.”

“Even if our phones got signal here, we still wouldn’t let you use one,” Brian Davenport adds. 

The woman looks at me now. “Oh, yew poor thang.” She gets up. “Come on, ah’ll get yew some fresh clothes ta wear.” She raises her finger. “Yew’ll catch yer death a cold if yew stay in them wet clothes. Not ta mention yew’ll keep drippin’ all over my carpets. Now c’mon.”

I let her take me with her. After changing into dry clothes, which look like the same fashions that Dorothy and her husband are wearing, the woman brings me back to the living room. 

“Well, she looks just like yew back in yer younger years, Dorothy,” the man says. 

“Now, yew don’t go gettin’ no ideas, August Grimm!” she scolds. “Yew keep yer hands off a this young chicken.”

August laughs a little and tells me to have a seat. I sit on a couch across from the three men. 

“Yup, ah think we got everybody here that needs ta be here,” August says.

Then I remember. “Those front doors are locked tight. I couldn’t open them again.”

“Yeah, they tend ta stick like that when it rains heavy like such. Way tha house’s always bin,” August replies. “Anyway, y’all wanna go back out inta that storm?”

I sigh. “Not really.”

“Then it’s all settled,” Dorothy says with finality. “August, ahm thinkin’ maybe it’s time y’all share a little story with our guests.”

“Don’t mind if ah do.” August points to a portrait of a bearded man above the fireplace. “That’s Beauregard Grimm, tha founder a this here home. It’s known only to a handful a people that he deserted during tha Civil War. Just didn’t believe tha way tha other Confederate people believed an deserted. It took’im some time, but he ended up here in tha north. Came ta this here spot on tha map an decided ta call it home. Began as a normal house. 

“Beauregard made his life an fortune makin’ traps. Now, we ain’t just talkin’ stuff like bear an mouse traps here. No, he made actual traps that could keep a man locked up good an tight. Then, as he builds this glorious plantation, he gits himself an idea. I done told ya he made his fortune here. He never done trusted nobody, so he decided ta build special rooms in here at Grimm Manor. Built special kinds a traps outta them, he did. Yew get caught in one a them rooms, yew better be able ta figure yer way out if y’all wanna live. As tha legend goes, yer able ta find an solve all tha rooms . . . y’all git tha fortune all ta yerselves. Many have tried.” He leans forward in his chair. “All of’em failed. In spite a tha warnins Dorothy an I both gave. They all ended up in their final restin’ place . . .” he nods over his shoulder, “. . . in that there dirt nap out in back. From there, they became a part a Grimm Manor. After all, it ain’t just people lookin’ fer Beauregard’s fortune who come here. Many a those lost souls who died in tha area find their way here, too, yes they do. 

“Now . . . y’all are more than welcome ta spend tha night an wait out tha storm. Long as y’all don’t go off lookin’ fer tha fortune, y’all shouldn’t have a problem gittin outta here come mornin’. You’ll decide ta go lookin’ fer tha fortune . . . ? Then y’all were warned!”

“Um, could the house being locked up tight be a possible trap?” I ask August. 

“Done told ya, honey,” he replies. “Them doors like ta stick real good when there’s a storm like that out there. An we get storms like that quite a bit here in Strickfield. Agin, y’all wanna go back out in that storm, we ain’t stoppin’ ya.”

John Riddle gives me a dirty look. “Looks like you finally found a place even you can’t escape from.”

August looks at Riddle. “How’s that?”

Riddle points right at me. “This little freak right here likes to play escape rooms. She’s gotten out of every one.”

August raises an eyelid my way. “Oh, really?”

I didn’t appreciate Riddle’s tone towards me. “At least I can beat the escape rooms!” Then I glance at all three of the former detectives. “Unlike you . . .” 

I calm down and look at August. “I guess I’ll stick it out here tonight and walk back to Strickfield in the morning. Um, can I trouble you for some food? I can pay you.”

Dorothy laughs a motherly laugh. “C’mon wit me, young lady. Ah’ll take ya an feed ya. I hope y’all have an appetite, ’cause we got more than enough food here. An yew keep yer money. Ain’t no good here.”

“Thank you,” I say and get up to follow Dorothy. 

The old woman takes me to the biggest kitchen I have ever seen. There are two huge refrigerators here. As soon as she opens one of them, my monster tummy growls with delight. I wonder if this sort of thing happened to Shaggy when he saw food. Okay, I know he’s a cartoon, but still . . . 

“Eat whatchew want,” Dorothy tells me. “C’mon back when yer ready an ah’ll show ya to yer room fer tha night.”

I thank the old woman again. When she leaves, I open a refrigerator and grab the big platter of ham. 

Wow! I don’t think I’ve ever eaten so good in my life. I could list everything I ate here, but . . . Again, this is part of the reason why guys don’t want to date me. For the record, I did eat that entire ham platter. I’ve rarely ever been as content as I am right now, but I think I should be good until morning. Then I’m going to want Denoyer’s Grill for sure.

When it’s getting close to midnight, August and Dorothy take us and show us to our rooms. The men ended up staying downstairs, but Dorothy takes me up the extravagant ivy staircase. At the top, we turn off. Dorothy’s talking to me about life here on the plantation. Soon we come to a bedroom at the end of the hall. 

“Yew’ll be quite comfy in here, honey,” she tells me. 

I thank her again for her hospitality and for putting me up for the night. I try to offer payment again, but she won’t hear of it. She says good night and leaves. I turn and examine my bedroom for the night. 

The first thing I see is another portrait of Beauregard Grimm near the four-poster bed. Not the same one as the portrait in the living room, but just as haunting. 

“It’s only a picture, Bethany,” I tell myself. “It can’t hurt you.”

I look at it again and see it’s still inanimate. I lock my door and undress. Then I gasp when I see the other naked girl in the full-length mirror and walk over to it. 

“Easy there, Bethany,” I tell myself. 

And then I notice my reflection’s eyes are red and my hair is violet; my eyes are normally green and my hair red. I close my eyes and tighten my fists. 

“No! No, I’m not giving in. Leave me alone!”

Then I open my eyes and see my reflection’s still altered. My dark side is trying to emerge again. I didn’t want to say anything, but my inner darkness is the biggest reason why I’m not intimate with others. I’ve had to struggle with it since my early high school years. It’s grown stronger since then, and it becomes more of a struggle to keep it inside me. 

“Ya can’t keep me locked up foreva, Bethy . . .” my reflection sings with a Brooklyn accented. 

I quickly turn away from the mirror, get into bed, and turn off the lamp. 

I wake up when I feel my tummy growling. “Really?” I ask it. “I just fed you a huge feast.”

I had that dream again about being in that hot dog eating contest last summer at the Strickfield County Fair. Winning that contest was no problem, but I still dream about that event. Denoyer’s Grill put up the hot dogs. I swear, I could live at that greasy spoon. 

My tummy starts growling again. 

“Okay, okay . . . I’ll get you some more of that delicious food,” I tell it and get out of bed. 

I put my borrowed clothes back on and leave my room. I walk downstairs and head into the kitchen. I feel so guilty for stuffing my face the way I do, but I just can’t help it. If I could actually put on weight, I’d have been dead from morbid obesity a long time ago. Then I laugh a little when I think that a rich man would have to be the one to marry me. 

“You’re being crazy now, Bethany,” I tell myself as I dig into some chocolate silk pie. 

I leave the kitchen feeling content yet again. Again, you wouldn’t believe all the food I just ate. I yawn and know I can’t wait to get back into that nice comfy bed. However, I decide to check out more of this mansion before I head back upstairs. Might as well, right? How often do you get to actually be in a big mansion like this? 

I walk until I enter the big living room. Looking at the windows, the storm just keeps raging on. Glad I’m in here where it’s nice and dry. 

Then I wish I hadn’t thought that last part when the lightning strikes. I scream like holy hell when I see the bodies of August and Dorothy Grimm hanging on nooses side-by-side. The lightning flashes again. They’re definitely dead! Who the hell could have done this . . . this awful thing? Those people were so nice. 

My heart’s pounding like when I’m watching horror movies on those lonely nights. My many lonely nights. I can’t help crying for the Grimms now. I can’t go back to bed. I have to solve this mystery. I have to know who killed August and Dorothy Grimm! 

Before I can think about what to do next, I feel something land right behind me. When I turn my head to see what it is, the lightning flashes and reveals – GASP!!

I scream in utter horror when I see the ghostly phantasm wearing a long black cloak. Its face was a ghastly, grinning skull. It laughs a haunting, menacing laugh as it wraps its arms around me. I scream again as I feel it lifting me up quickly and out of sight. 

***

Ed Smith

The three of us are making our way through Grimm Manor on late 4^th of July night. What, did you really think we were just going to stay in our rooms for the night? The whole point of us coming to Grimm Manor was to look for Beauregard Grimm’s fortune. Now we have to worry about that troublesome Bethany Martinson. That little girl better stay in her bedroom, if she knows what’s good for her. 

Yeah, you can tell I’m still frustrated with her. Hell, we all are. John Riddle, Brian Davenport, and I were detectives at our respective precincts for many years. As a detective, you’re going to get cases that are harder than hell to solve. We each had a case involving serial killers or kidnappings. For me, it was a serial killer. 

I kept looking over the evidence in front of me. I’d back away from it and come back to it after calming down. Yet, I can’t figure out where the killer’s going to strike next. The mayor’s not willing to wait any longer, so the chief calls in somebody. Turns out it’s an eighteen-year-old kid – a girl – who’s a freshman in college. The chief tells me to work with her. Like a good detective, I’m ready to take this kid under my wing. But then, she blows the whole case wide open after looking at everything on my desk. 

End result? The killer gets nabbed. The girl gets a handsome reward from the mayor. I end up being called into the office to hand in my gun and my badge. All because of some brainy little red-haired girl who looks like she’s from the 1960s. I found out the same thing happened to John and Brian in their cities. 

Now, to be fair, I know the kid didn’t intentionally get us fired. She just did what she was called in to do. What pissed us off was the fact she made solving those cases look like any snotnose kid could’ve done it. She made us look real bad, and we got fired for it. 

What could the three of us do after getting fired? No police department would take us, not even as beat cops. We ended up meeting at an escape room for a contest, each of us willing to see if we truly still had what it took to be detectives. We saw Bethany there. Turns out the little snot’s doing escape room contests for money. The three of us teamed up against her, agreeing to a three-way split on the prize money. Three heads are better than one, right? 

She still ended up winning – by herself!

We ended up staying together and looking for lost treasures. We’ve hit paydirt in many of our hunts. Treasure hunting turned out to be our thing since – I hate to say it – we just couldn’t beat Bethany Martinson in the escape rooms. 

Nobody can beat her!

Now that little bitch is here in Grimm Manor. I hate to say it, but I believe her when she says she just stumbled onto this place. As many times as we’ve been treasure hunting, we’ve never once seen Bethany around. So it’s just coincidence that she’s here. As for how we ended up here, I found an old book telling the story of the Grimm Manor fortune. So we took a road trip to Strickfield and ended up here. 

I read that this place is supposed to be haunted, like a few of the other treasure sites we went to. With August and Dorothy Grimm hung up in the living room, we got the whole place to ourselves to hunt for the fortune. However, Bethany couldn’t leave this house. We tried the front doors ourselves, and they won’t open. This mansion doesn’t have any back doors that we could find. But we’re here, and we ain’t leaving until we find Beauregard Grimm’s fortune. 

We’re on our way up to the attic. Good a place as any to find treasures, antiques and all. Once we come in, we take out our pocket flashlights and start going through everything with a fine-tooth comb. We’re looking through dresser drawers and a few closets. There’s even a picture of that old hag, Dorothy Grimm, hanging on the wall not too far from a trunk. Looks like she’s pointing an accusing finger right at me. 

“Hey, check this out,” John calls to us. 

“What is it?” Brian asks. 

John pushes against the trunk. “It won’t move.”

“It’s probably gotta lotta shit in it,” Brian mutters. 

“Yeah, but it’s a trunk,” John emphasizes. “It’s not that big. I should be able to move it.”

John pushes against the trunk again. Still won’t move. Then I try to help him push it. 

“John’s right,” I say. “There is something with this trunk. It’s like it’s nailed to the floor or something.”

Brian joins us now. Even with all three of us, it still won’t move. We’re all middle-aged men here, but we ain’t over the hill just yet. We finally stop pushing the trunk and stand up straight to look at it. 

“Yeah, I don’t get it,” I say. “We might as well go look in some other rooms.”

“What the hell?” Brian suddenly asks. 

“What?” John demands. 

Brian points to where the door we came in was supposed to be. Except now there ain’t no door. 

“What the hell?” I mutter and move to where the door was and feel what’s now a wall. “Shit, this door’s gone all right. Unless we can get outta here, we’re stuck up here.”

“Still can’t open the fucking windows,” John hisses. “No latches!”

“What the hell was that?” Brian calls out. 

“What?” John demands. 

“Over there!” Brian shines his flashlight that way. 

When John and I shine our lights, we see what Brian sees. 

“That’s a lot of spiders,” John says. “I mean, that’s a lot of spiders.”

Then I see something that makes my stomach drop. “Guys, those ain’t just spiders. They got red spots or hourglass shapes on their backs. Those are black widows. They’ll fucking kill us if we don’t get outta here – fast!”

Brian quickly waves a finger. “Hey, hey, hey . . . What if this is one a those trap rooms August Grimm was talking about in his story? What if we gotta figure our way outta here?”

“Move it!” I quickly say, agreeing with him. “Start looking for clues! We ain’t got much time.”

We’re quickly looking and relooking at things. We’re under some serious pressure here. We’ve been through many escape rooms. Never had our asses on the line, though. We were just competing for prize money, which we never won on the count of that little redhead. But now . . . Aw, man! 

Killer spiders!

And then I suddenly get a flash of an idea. “We gotta open that trunk we tried to move!”

The others don’t give me shit. We return to the trunk and try to open it. 

“Shit, those damn bugs are getting closer,” John hisses. “They’ll be on us in under a minute.”

“Just shut up and work on getting this trunk open,” I yell. 

Brian finds the two lock switches on it that look like part of the trunk’s design and moves them away from each other slightly. “Open it!”

I pop the lid and look inside. “There’s a ladder in here! Let’s move!”

I get inside first and start climbing down fast. It ain’t long before the other two are right behind me. John’s the last one, so he makes sure he pulls the trunk lid shut. Don’t want any of those goddamn spiders getting in and following us down. We keep going down until we reach the bottom of the ladder and find we’re in another part of the house. 

We all breathe big sighs of relief as we escape our first life-threatening escape room. If that little redhead ends up going into that attic . . . Well, we sure ain’t gonna tell her nothing. She can find out for herself. Good riddance, Bethany!

“Okay, let’s keep moving, guys,” I say. 

We pick a direction in our corridor and start searching again. 

Bethany

It happened just like that! That . . . that . . . that phantasm just snatched me right up out of the living room. The next thing I know, I’m in this dimly lit hallway that looks like a hall of mirrors. I’ve only ever encountered a few of these in my life, but none of them have been nearly as creepy as this one here. 

My first time in a hall of mirrors was at a fair. You just paid a couple of dollars, and you went for a five-minute walk through some hallways (no mirrored walls) and looked at differently distorted mirrors. Of course, you were just paying for a little fun and maybe some slight scares. 

My second encounter was in an escape room I did just shortly after I cracked that case in Dayton. I figured I was there, so why not? This escape room was located near The Mall at Fairfield Commons, and it was just for fun. I ended up being placed with a group and doing it with them. I could have easily solved every puzzle, but I acted like I had to figure things out the way they did. Truthfully, I just wanted to see how well-designed the escape room was. We played a murder mansion-themed room. That was actually pretty fun. 

The escape rooms that I do for prize money are built on a grander scale. Have you ever seen those horror movies that are about escape rooms? Well, think of those. Whoever designed them definitely thought them out very carefully. Some have even had puzzles so complicated that many people gave up. Even the three former detectives who are in this house had a hard time, and they usually work together. They did manage to figure their way out, but it took them long enough. 

The contests I do are based on time, as in how long it takes me to go through the entire experience by solving the puzzles to get from one room to the next and finally to the end. That’s how I win my contests. I’m usually the one who comps the least time. The pressure’s on for me to try and complete the escape room in record time. It’s part of both the challenge and the fun. And then, of course, I have to eat. 

Anyway, the hall of mirrors at the Dayton escape room was probably the most challenging room in there, especially with it being mirrored walls. One, the mirrors are there to intentionally confuse you and throw you off. Second, it’s having to find the puzzle within the mirrors themselves. It was about midway through the murder mansion experience, but our group was able to solve the room. 

Now I’m walking through a long hall of mirrors that’s in a haunted mansion (no mirrored walls). I’m not exactly counting all the mirrors here, but there are a lot. As I walk by them, I see the usual distortions that you’d find in any other hall of mirrors like it. I walk past a mirror that makes me really look tall and skinny, much like that Creepypasta of the Slender Man. I walk by another one and see my head’s really distorted. I have my body, but I look like I have a head twice my normal size. 

I kind of laugh a little. Then I shriek when the reflection reaches out and almost grabs me. The reflection grins at me and laughs scornfully. Okay, Bethany, remember . . . You’re in a haunted mansion here. You got whisked away by a phantasm and put in here. This hall of mirrors is going to be anything but a normal experience. 

I walk past another mirror and see there are two of me standing side-by-side. The one on the left with the red hair and green eyes looks like a good girl. The one on the right has violet hair, red eyes, and looks evil. I’m careful not to get too close this time. I have to quickly hit the floor when the two reflections try to reach out of the mirror with elongated arms and snatch me. 

“Come to us!” their disembodied, combined voice says to me. “We’re so very lonely. We just want you to stay with us, Mortal.”

I quickly get to my feet and get away from that mirror. I gulp when I’m thinking I may have gotten in way over my head this time. I’ve been in haunted places before, but never quite like this. 

I turn around and see another mirror that makes me look like I’m a human snake. To my credit, I can actually contort my body in different positions. For example, I can lay on my back and actually put my feet and ankles behind my head and rest comfortably. I can even kneel down and lean back to lower my head to the floor in between my calves. It amazes me that I can do that. Now, being able to contort the way I do doesn’t mean I’m double-jointed; I can only bend my joints one way.

My snaky reflection slithers for a little bit and then comes at me the way an actual snake would – mouth wide open and ready to devour me. I quickly drop to my knees and contort my body in the latter way I described to avoid it. Upon missing me, the image quickly goes back into the glass. I get back to my feet and move again. 

I back myself up against a wall and feel my heart pounding. How do you end up in these situations, Bethany? How do you end up coming here – of all places – and then get the living hell scared out of you? And I don’t mind telling you I’m really scared. Then I have a comforting thought and laugh a little. In the Scooby-Doo cartoons, Shaggy’s still very much alive. You’d think he’d have had a massive heart attack with all the times those so-called ghosts have scared him half to death. Nope, he’s still alive and well and devouring all the food he can get his hands on. 

Well, I’m definitely getting out of here!

I take a deep breath and compose myself. I slowly move away from the wall and keep walking. Soon, I come to another mirror. Wow! This one really makes me look big and fat. I can’t help thinking this is probably what I’d look like if it wasn’t for the fact that I have an ultra-high metabolism, which is why I can’t put on weight – no matter how much food I eat. And those stupid sorority girls at the Kappa house like to call me Bethany the Boar, like we’re still in high school or something. 

Suddenly, my obese reflection’s eyes glow red hot as she looks right at me. 

“That’s right, Bethany, I’m the REAL you!” the reflection says in a much meaner version of my voice. “I just couldn’t stop eating like a FUCKING PIG! Now look at me.” She points right at me. “You have no right to stuff yourself the way you do and get away with it.”

“I can’t help the way I am,” I protest. “If I don’t eat the way I do, I’ll literally starve to death.”

Probably not the best thing to say. I’ve really pissed off my reflection. “Bethany the Boar! HA! Come to me, you little worm. I’ll devour you and take your place in the Mortal Realm. Then I’ll show ALL the people who made fun of you what Bethany the Boar is really like!”

I shake my head quickly. “Hell, no!”

When my obese reflection starts laughing long peals of horrible laughter, I’m having a very bad feeling about this. 

Suddenly, the hall of mirrors starts shaking. I have to do a little dancing in order to keep my balance. I cry out when I feel the floor – the whole hallway – starting to slope. I end up falling on my butt and begin sliding downward. 

“Come to me, Bethany.” The reflection rubs her hands together as she licks her lips. “You’re going to be such a TASTY morsel.”

As I’m sliding to my death, my mutant brain suddenly lights up multiple light bulbs. Each and every mirrored distortion I’ve seen are things I’ve been most afraid of. I’ve dreamed about nightmarish figures with big heads. I’ve dreamed about nightmarish figures like the Slender Man. I’m deathly afraid of snakes – and spiders. When it comes to the two versions of me in the same mirror, I think it’s because I struggle with my darker self. On one side, I just want to be my throwback to the 1960s self and be the girl I’ve become. The darker half of me wants to dress a little more down and flaunt my body. At times, I’ve almost given in to my urges just for the sake of wanting a man to have me – even if just for one night. But then I back up and remember who I am – why I am.

But this reflection here . . . The morbidly obese version of me? I’ve always been afraid that somehow my ultra-high metabolism will just stop one day – and that my intense hunger will not. Then I would truly become the horror I’m sliding towards. 

But I have a reassuring thought. Every doctor I’ve been a patient of has told me I’ll never be able to put on weight or stop eating the way I do. If I don’t eat, I can starve to death – many times faster than a normal person. Every doctor has told me this will never stop. My ultra-high metabolism will be with me until I’m finally dead. I’m going to have to eat at buffets and places like Denoyer’s Grill for the rest of my life if I want to live. 

And I very much want to live!

But these mirrors are all of my worst fears come to life. Even though the doctors have assured me I’ll never look anything close to my horrible reflection waiting to eat me, I still have fears of something like this. The multiple light bulbs in my head have also given me the answer to this hall of mirrors. 

It’s an escape room!

I remember August Grimm’s story. Beauregard created specific trap rooms for the purpose of keeping his fortune safe. But I’m not after his fortune. Still, that phantasm snatched me up and put me in here. 

The answer to this escape room isn’t anything like looking for clues on the walls or in magazines or even patterns. No, this is an actual haunted house escape room. The rules are so much different here, and yet so much the same. I know the answer to this escape room. 

I must face my fears! 

But I’m really scared as hell . . .

As I reach the mirror, I gasp and feel my darker half emerging. I feel myself sinking deep into my own body now – until I feel like a passenger. I can still see through my eyes as a spectator, looking my horrible double in the face.

“Bethy’s gone now, ya fat fuck. Now ya gotta deal with Harpy,” I hear myself say with a Brooklyn accent. I think I kind of sound like Tiffany from those Chucky movies and that new TV series. “Ya wanna devour Harpy? Well, here I am.” I feel myself holding out my arms as if presenting myself. “Go ahead an try ta devour Harpy! Won’t be a lotta meat on tha bones.” Then I hold my finger up. “Ya wanna know tha real difference between you an me? Harpy can git laid wheneva she wants ta. So can Bethy. What about you? Or do ya actually hafta lay down an smotha somebody ta say ya got laid?”

“Stop that! You don’t talk to ME like that! I am Bethany the Boar! I’ll kill and devour you!”

“Well, I’m right here, fat lady!” I see myself pointing right at my double. “Harpy ain’t afraid a you. Harpy ain’t afraid a nothin’. I see people like you every day through Bethy’s eyes, always throwin’ ya weight around an makin’ people feel less than they are. You’re tryin’ ta do tha same thing ta Bethy. Those Kappa sorority bitches are just like you. An right now, Harpy’s gonna tell ya just one thing: fuuuuuuuuuccccccccckkkkkkkkkk you!”

The reflection roars and tries to grab me, but I feel myself looking right at her now, and without fear. I point at her sharpy. “Back tha fuck off, fatty! Nobody touches Harpy unless I wancha to.”

When Bethany the Boar backs off, I feel myself walking to the mirror and stepping through it. My obese reflection sputters and protests as I do. Before I finish going through, I just manage to see a number at the top of the mirror – 38. I think I would do well to remember that number. 

Suddenly, the scenery changes! 

I’m in a hallway now. I remember that Grimm Manor has three floors. I think I’m on the top floor. And then I have to focus to reign in my dark half. I normally don’t use bad language like that. It worked for me this time, but I don’t want to become that person. I don’t want to be a vengeful Harpy! I’m Bethany Martinson, and I love who I’ve become. Even if I do eat way too much in order to live. 

“I don’t wanna leave!” Harpy snaps. “Go away, Bethy!”

“No! I’m the one in control. Me! I won’t let you ruin my life!” I yell as I take over again. 

I take some deep breaths when I realize I’m in full control of my body again. 

“I’ll be back, Bethy . . .” I hear Harpy singing in my head. 

Now I scream in total fear when that phantasm suddenly flies right at me – from out of nowhere – and grabs me again. It takes me right to the banister overlooking the first floor. The phantasm laughs hysterically as it lifts me up over its head . . . 

And throws me over the banister!

I scream even louder as I fall to my death!

***

Ed Smith

We turn down one corridor right after another. It’s like we’re in some maze or something. We’ve been through worse scenarios to get treasures. Our pocket flashlights keep lighting our way. 

“We’ve been walking down these corridors forever,” John Riddle complains. “How do we know we haven’t been down this way already?”

“We can’t just stay down here,” Brian Davenport points out. “We gotta find our way outta here. For all we know, maybe we’re in another escape room.”

“I can’t imagine all these corridors being a whole other escape room,” I say. “I’d still rather be walking around . . . wherever the hell we are than to have to deal with all those spiders.”

“I’ll never be able to forget those damn things,” Brian mutters. “Especially since we almost died up in that attic.”

“We’re still alive,” John mutters. “So let’s find our way out of here and find that old man’s fortune.”

“But where the hell are we?” I wonder. “I know this mansion’s huge, but it seems like we’ve been going down this corridor a long time.”

“We can’t be going down one long corridor,” John argues. “We made a few turns, remember?”

“Well, we need to find our way outta here and back into the house itself, or that damn college brat’s gonna beat us out – again,” Brian’s quick to point out. 

“And how the fuck do you suppose we do that?” John demands. 

“Guys, come on,” I snap. “We got out of worse spots than this.”

We come up to another corridor. For a little bit, we argue on whether to take it or not. There’s even talk about us splitting up and going in different directions. 

“I don’t suggest we do that,” I say. “Remember, we’re in a haunted house here. The best thing to do is stick together. We split up, we may never get out of here. Now, come on. Let’s turn here. One way or another, we’re bound to find our way out of here.”

John and Brain follow me down this new corridor. We walk for a few minutes before we finally come to a door. I push it open, and we’re back in the house. 

“It’s a hallway!” I say with excitement. 

“About goddamn time,” Brian mutters as he comes out. 

“I thought we’d never get out of that shit,” John adds. 

We shine our pocket flashlights around. The storm is still raging strong. Interesting 4^th of July this turned out to be. It was raining cats and dogs when I picked up John and Brian. I’m surprised there weren’t multiple floods when we came to Strickfield. And that lightning was horrendous. 

Suddenly, the lightning flashes and makes all of us cry out. We get calm, and I close the door. Turns out it’s a full-length portrait of a young woman. Maybe it’s Beauregard’s wife. Maybe it’s a daughter. Who can say for sure? 

“Which way?” John asks. 

“Well, we’re back in the house itself,” I reply. “I say we just move around all the floors and search each room if we have to.”

“We can’t possibly search all the rooms before morning,” Brian points out. 

“Well, we’re going to have to try and find something,” John says. “How do we know Bethany isn’t out looking for the fortune herself?”

“Do we know where her room is?” I ask.

“We never saw where that old woman took her,” John mutters. 

“I think she’s on the second floor somewhere,” Brian’s quick to say. “We can find her and make sure she stays put.”

We don’t get to really decide what we’re going to do when this thing suddenly drops right in our circle. It looks like a cloaked – Ohshit!

We all scream when we see the skull underneath its shroud. I ain’t sure if this is Death himself coming for us or what, but we quickly turn and run. We hear that ghostly thing chasing us down and laughing its ass off. 

We make it to the big stairway at the center of the house and quickly run up taking multiple steps at a time. We turn off and start running some more. The ghost is right there now. It flew up and intercepted us. 

“Shit!” we all yell together. 

We turn around and run down the west wing. I get the idea to open the first door so we can all run inside. That turns out to be a very bad thing. 

A skeletal woman is standing there wearing what looks like what’s left of her wedding dress. She glares right at us with her dead eyeballs. Then a groom appears right next to her, looking a lot worse than his bride. 

“This room is OCCUPIED!” the groom yells in a glutaral voice. 

We scream again when he slams the door in our faces. We don’t have time to really think as we hear that ghost almost on us again. Why does that goddamn thing have to laugh all the time?

We reach another door, and I try the knob. When we walk in, we see some people gathered around a table. Looks like they’re playing cards. They’re smoking cigars and have glasses of iced liquor at their places. 

We scream again when they all raise their heads to reveal they’re all skeletons wearing clothing from back in the Civil War years. 

“Do you mind? We’re trying to play our game here!” the skeleton dealing the cards yells. 

“Go find your own game!” another one adds. 

“Plenty of rooms in this house, and you pick ours to come in?” another one mutters. 

We quickly turn and get out of that room. We’re running again and end up going back downstairs. Again, that damn ghost intercepts us. It never says one word, just keeps laughing like crazy. 

We turn and run down another hallway. Realizing that ghost is almost on us, I try one more door. Nobody there to scare the living shit out of us this time. We all go through the doorway, and I slam the door shut behind us. 

Even that don’t help! 

The ghost suddenly floats right through the door and glares right at us. We turn and run for another door. John opens it, and we run outside into a brightly-lit courtyard – and back into the storm. 

“Aw, shit!” Brian groans. 

“Jesus!” John complains. 

We turn around to see that ghost floating at the doorway we came through. Guess we really don’t have a choice here. We either stay out here in the storm, or we take our chances with that ghost. 

“It ain’t coming after us now,” John says. 

“But look at what’s behind us,” I say. “We’re out here at the graveyard.”

“Do you think Beauregard Grimm mighta hid his fortune in the graveyard?” Brain asks. 

“We can’t possibly search every grave, you idiot,” John yells. “We’ll be here forever trying to do that. What time is it, anyway?”

We dig into our back pockets for our smartphones. 

“What the hell?” I growl. “I can’t find my fucking phone.”

“Me, neither!” John groans. 

“Shit!” Brian mutters. 

“You know what? Just forget about this goddamn shit!” John yells. “We ain’t never gonna find the fortune. Way too many goddamn ghosts here.”

“Yeah, Ed, let’s just go on home,” Brian agrees. “Maybe we can try another day when the weather’s better. Key word here – day.”

We try to go around the house on either side, but that ghost quickly moves to block our way each time. We got no choice but to find a fence or wall on the sides and get out that way. We turn and start walking to enter the graveyard. We seem to be getting farther away from the mansion. We’re walking and walking, but we never hit a fence or wall. I mean, we turned to the side, right? We turn back around and return to the courtyard. Then we run into the graveyard on the other side. Again, no wall or fence. It’s like we ain’t getting nowhere. 

“We’re totally fucked!” John yells. “God dammit!”

I really don’t want to agree with John on this, but I think he’s right. This haunted house ain’t going to let us leave. We’re stuck out here in this raging storm. But if we try to go back inside, that ghost is still there waiting for us. John’s right in saying we’re fucked. Boy, are we ever fucked! 

All we can do is to keep trying to walk the graveyard and hope to find a way out. 

Bethany

I’m still screaming when I open my eyes and see I’m in a room lit entirely by candlelight. And my extreme fear suddenly turns into extreme delight. I’m practically drooling now when I see I’m in the biggest dining room I’ve ever been in in my life. The table is huge and has lots and lots of food on it. Why does food have to be my favorite pastime? As I’m looking at this beautiful, bountiful, delicious spread . . . Okay, I’ll be honest here. I hate having to eat as much food as I do, but at the same time . . . I just love to eat. There’s even plenty to drink here, too. 

I’m about to sit down and help myself to what looks like roast duck, but then – and this is very uncommon with me – the light bulbs in my mutant brain come on and tell me not to touch any of this food. I remember that I’m in a haunted house and that things from ghosts to other manifestations are trying to kill me. What’s to say this banquet isn’t here to tempt me? Okay, I am tempted, but still . . .

I think I may be in another escape room here! 

I look and see I can easily walk out of here in either direction. But what kind of an escape room just lets you walk in and out freely? In my experience with escape rooms, things are seldom as they seem. This buffet was definitely placed here to tempt me specifically. I’ve eaten two huge meals here earlier, so something here knows that I eat to live and live to eat. 

I look around the dining room and am quite thankful for the candlelight. The lightning flashes next to me at the windows and makes me shriek. Rainwater continues to splash against the windows. I’m surprised this house hasn’t sunk into a big mud pit as hard as it’s been raining. 

I come to a serving platter on wheels and pop the top to see some roast turkey with stuffing and savory gravy. It’s like this room knows what I enjoy and is tempting me with it. And then something gets my attention, aside from the storm. There’s a Greek mythology book sitting here on a little table at the wall. I do a once-around and look for other books. There’s only the one mythology book. It’s rather odd that a hard-bound book is in such an extravagant dining room. 

This has to be some kind of a clue. I pick it up and see it’s bookmarked. I open the book to see it’s the story of Persephone that’s marked. For those of you who have never read Greek mythology, Persephone was the daughter of the goddess Demeter, who ruled over agriculture and harvest. One day, Persephone was kidnapped and taken to the underworld by Hades, the lord of the dead. When Demeter found out, she refused to let trees and other vegetation grow their plentiful bounties until her daughter was returned. After Zeus, Persephone’s father and king of the gods, had ordered Hades to return his daughter to Demeter, Hades reluctantly agreed. However, he had a condition. Persephone must not have eaten any food while in the realm of the dead. To Persephone’s dismay, it was revealed that she had eaten four pomegranate seeds. Persephone would have to spend one month out of the year in the underworld for each seed she had eaten. She married Hades and became the queen of the underworld. She spent four months in the underworld for the seeds eaten, but the rest of the year she would get to spend with her mother. 

I’m thinking more about this story and how it pertains to me and this room. Of course! All I have to do is eat this very food in front of me here. I’m the Persephone of this particular story. The food placed before me is the food of the dead. Remember, I’m in a house of the dead. Yes, I ate food from the refrigerators in the kitchen earlier, but it’s not the same thing. I’m still alive and solving escape rooms. And this particular room isn’t about basic escape here. No, it’s about escaping your innermost wants. I want to eat as much of this delicious food as I can so badly. I can still smell how appealing it is. But the food in this particular room is the bait and trap for me. If I eat it, I’ll end up becoming like Persephone. I’ll be condemned to live in this haunted mansion for the rest of eternity. This is one time I’m going to have to turn food down. Escape rooms usually provide one or more hard-to-find clues. This mythology book was the clue to my solving this escape room. 

I close the book and put it back down. Then I quickly pick it back up and look at the spine. There’s a number on it – 6. There was a number for me to find in that hall of mirrors I escaped from. Now I have two numbers. 

Suddenly, I’m given another jump scare as the lightning flashes again. Then I look and see that a section of the wall across the table is opening up. This is a definite confirmation that I’ve solved this escape room and that I have to go through that opening to continue. There’s no way I could just leave here and go back up to my room. I’m sure the spirits of this house won’t let me, especially if that phantasm returns for me. I have no choice. 

And then I feel my darker half pushing me, making me move to the secret door. I’m still very scared, but I let my darker half move me. I walk around the table and walk through the secret door. Once I’m through, the door slowly closes behind me until it’s shut tight. 

The lights come on to reveal that I’m in a gallery. There’s no question this is the next escape room. I’m quick to notice things are quite crazy when it comes to this particular gallery. For one thing, the carpeting has many different colored patterns. Actually, there isn’t a set pattern. It’s like somebody just threw some paint on the floor and went from one end to another, then threw a different colored paint down and did some more. There are also statues and portraits that are pointing in different directions. In the center of the far wall is a beautiful marble fireplace with a fire burning bright. 

And there’s no door!

I scream as a disembodied voice speaks to me. “The only path to your freedom is the ONE NOT TRAVELED. Choose wrong and it will spell certain doom. From there, you shall remain here with us FOREVER!!”

Suddenly, I feel the vengeful Harpy trying to take control again. 

“No, Harpy! No!” I yell. 

“It’s my body, too, Bethy!” I hear her say in my head with her Brooklyn accent. “An Harpy wants out!”

“No!” I yell again. “Not now!”

I feel Harpy pulling me back down into my body as she’s trying to emerge again. I have to fight to remain in control and keep my darker half from fully emerging. Once I feel fully in control again, I keep taking in soothing deep breaths until I feel fine again. Not only do I have to fight with my hunger, I have to fight my inner darkness too. 

“Ya can’t keep Harpy inside foreva, Sissy . . .” she sings. 

“Leave me alone,” I snap. 

I wait a moment to see if there’s any trap that will automatically start up, but nothing happens. I’ve got as much time as I need to try and get out of here. The problem is that I need to find the correct way out, and I’ve got to do it right the first time. Something tells me I won’t be able to pick the wrong way and be able to back away. One wrong choice and I’m dead. 

I’m studying everything in this room carefully. I’m checking out where the statues and the figures are pointing. I’m even looking at the patterns on the floor. Clearly, each pattern is a path. That part’s easy to figure out. But I need to find the correct one to get out of here. I can take my time and think since there are no traps to make you move along faster.

I’m eyeballing the different paths, which all end at a part of the wall. This leads me to believe that there are multiple secret doors in this room. Again, I try to follow the directions where the paintings and statues are pointing, but there really isn’t a clear path. Also, there aren’t any windows for me to try and climb out of. No, there’s no backing out of this particular escape room. I have to solve it. 

Then I think about what the voice told me. The only path to your freedom is the one not traveled. But aren’t all of these paths indicated in some way? Right about now, I’m ready to say I’m sick and tired of doing escape rooms. But I know if I get out of here, the first thing I’m going to do (after eating at Denoyer’s Grill) will be to look for other escape room contests to sign up for. I guess these things will always be my addiction.

And then the lights come on in my mutant brain one more time. I’m thinking about this thing way too hard. In fact, this room is a lot easier than it seems. I’ve just made the connection with the patterns. The paintings and statues all have very light hues on them that match their particular-colored floor patterns. But then I see the ones that don’t have any kind of a hue and look carefully. There’s no indicated path on the floor to follow – the one not traveled. 

I follow the directions right to the fireplace. The fire’s burning brightly in here, but something’s not right about this. I can see the fire flickering. I can hear the wood cracking and popping. However, I’m not feeling the fire. There should be heat.

I lower myself enough to be able to walk inside it. The flames are touching me now, but they don’t burn me. And then I know I’ve solved this escape room when I see the number engraved on the inner wall – 24. Then a secret panel opens once I’ve passed through the fire. I go through the doorway and find myself in a downstairs hallway. The panel closes right behind me shortly after. 

I can’t believe I’ve actually gotten this far. Well, wait a minute, Bethany! Why the disbelief? You solve escape rooms and puzzles for a living. Day after day, it seems you’ve always got some kind of a problem placed before you. And you always – always – manage to solve it. That’s all you do is solve puzzles. Even you helping the police is solving puzzles. You always manage to connect the dots. Even somehow finding the money to pay for what your scholarship doesn’t cover is a puzzle. 

Is that what I’ve been placed on this planet to do? Is there some supreme being who created me just to solve puzzles and eat? And to fight my inner darkness that curses me? I suppose the grand scheme of life is the one puzzle I’ve never been able to solve, isn’t it? Where do I fit in the grand scheme of life? Why do I have such blessed intelligence and can be so happy-go-lucky in the face of both danger and people who would persecute me? I guess I’ll just have to get out of this horrible place to be able to try and answer those questions. 

I walk around until I find myself back in the big living room again. Now I’m looking at that portrait of Beauregard Grimm again. I’m feeling there’s something about it. It’s not that it feels like he’s looking right at me. No, it’s something else. Then I look at the places where I saw August and Dorothy Grimm hanging from. 

They’re not there now!

I gulp. “Oh, God!”

“Ya scared, Bethy?” I hear Harpy taunting me in my head. “Ya can always let Harpy out. Harpy ain’t scared a nothin’. But poor Bethy . . . Such a scared little fraidy-cat.”

“Why are you doing this to me?” I demand. “What did I ever do to you?” I shake my head quickly. “No! I’m not talking to you! You’re just my other personality. You don’t really have life.”

“Ya keep tellin’ yaself that, my darlin’ sista,” she returns. “You an I are really gonna get ta know each otha in tha comin’ months.”

Suddenly, I hear that fiendish, awful, menacing laughter again. I look to see that phantasm quickly making its way toward me. I scream in horror as I turn and run. 

But it doesn’t have to touch me this time!

I manage to get maybe twenty feet away before the floor opens up below me fast and I fall into a dark pit. I somehow managed to survive being thrown off that banister earlier. But now, I scream at the top of my lungs as I truly fall to my death!

***

I don’t know what really happened. I just know that I fell into this black void. I couldn’t see a floor or anything. Now I sit up and see I’m in what looks like an attic. I stand up and look around. How many attics have I been in in my life? I remember how Mom and Dad set me up in the attic when we moved to North Ridgeway. That was around the time when they were having me tested so that people in white coats could tell me I have a mutant brain and belong in a special school for the gifted. 

Now that I’m in this particular attic, I’m reminded that I’m potentially in terrible danger. It’s obvious I’m in another escape room and have to figure my way out. Then I see the obvious door and make my way to it. I grab the knob and start to open it. 

Suddenly, the door yanks itself out of my hand and slams shut. 

“Aw, come on!” I mutter. 

And then the weirdest thing happens. The door suddenly becomes . . . sucked right into the wall until it’s gone and there’s only the wall itself now. Like there was never a door to begin with. Remembering this house has power, I look around and find a light switch. After turning the lights on, I look around some more. 

I see something weird in the far corner near the window, like something’s moving. I walk to it and see a full-length mirror behind some stuff. I gasp at the reflection looking back at me now – with purple hair and red eyes. 

Remembering that hall of mirrors, I quickly back away from it.

“Ya can neva escape me, Bethy.” My reflection has a Brooklyn accent. “You an me are togetha fa life.”

I shake my head quickly. “Go away, Harpy! You’re evil! Why are you torturing me like this?”

“Call Harpy whatcha want. I just wanna experience life tha way you do. Ya can’t keep me locked away in our body foreva, Sissy. It’s just as much Harpy’s body as it is yours.”

I tighten my fists. “No! You’re evil! How do I know you didn’t kill August and Dorothy Grimm?”

Harpy laughs and smiles her wicked smile. “Accuse Harpy all ya want, Bethy. Howeva, ya got bigga problems ta deal with right now.” She points to her right – my left. “Look!”

I see the floor is starting to move in that other corner. And then my stomach drops fast!

“Spiders!” I scream. “Oh, God, not spiders!”

My heart’s really pounding, and I’m so dizzy! Then my eyes roll up in the back of my head as I fall and pass out – from extreme fright!

I open my eyes an sit up. Those spidas are almost ta Harpy, an they ain’t comin’ ta me ’cause they wanna get friendly. No, they’re black widows. Harpy’s here, an she’s in full control now. No way things’re endin’ like this!

I quickly move to my feet, which actually scares the spidas so they back off. “Boo!”

Then more a tha creepies move away. They want nothin’ ta do with Harpy. They could get Bethy ’cause she’s always been scared a spidas. Not Harpy. Harpy ain’t scared a nothin’!

Time ta get outta here. I look around an see a portrait a Dorothy Grimm to tha left of a trunk on tha floor an go examine it. 

There’s a numba here on tha frame – 39. Numbas are clues! Tha lady in tha portrait’s pointin’ right at Harpy. Then, I spin around an see tha trunk behind me. 

Tha spidas keep movin’ around fast. They want Harpy, but they’re afraid a her. Without anotha thought, I grab tha lid an rip it off. Hey! There’s a ladda in here! I git inside tha trunk an stawt climbin’ down. 

When Harpy reaches tha bottom, she’s in a corridor. Only got two directions ta move. I see tha burnin’ torches lightin’ tha way an follow’em. I turn down one corridor an then anotha. Harpy walks for many minutes. 

Then I rememba August Grimm’s story about how people who die in this area come ta this place. Well, Harpy ain’t dyin’! An Harpy ain’t lettin’ Bethy die, neitha. But Harpy’s gotta problem now. Harpy’s gettin’ hungry, an she’s gotta eat just like Bethy. I’m thinkin’ lotsa sweets! But Harpy’s gotta get outta here first. 

I follow tha torches an come out a secret panel ta end up back in tha house an on tha first floor. 

Suddenly, that phantom that’s been shakin’ up Bethy appears. Aw . . . It wants ta play with Harpy. I scream in delight an run. The phantom stawts chasin’ Harpy, all while laughin’ like in those scary movies Bethy watches. 

“Harpy’ll play with ya!” I call ovva my shoulda. “C’mon!”

The phantom keeps chasin’ Harpy. I turn down anotha hallway an keep runnin’. When I see tha phantom’s hand’s almost on my shoulda, I laugh a little. 

“Oh, ya wanna play tag?” Then Harpy runs fasta. 

I reach a door at tha end a tha hall an open it. When Harpy slams tha door shut, tha phantom floats right through it an keeps laughin’. Then I move ta anotha door an open it ta take me out into tha storm. 

“Yes! Harpy is free!”

I laugh joyfully as I experience bein’ outside for tha first time evva. Yeah, Harpy’s all wet now. Tha clothes I’m wearin’ are clingin’ ta my sexy chassis. But now, that phantom ain’t chasin’ Harpy no more. 

I wanna play with tha phantom again, but I just hafta be out here now. 

“Let me out! Goddamn you, Harpy! LET ME OUT!”

“Ain’t happenin’, Bethy,” I say. “It’s Harpy’s body now. And . . . it’s Harpy’s world ta play in.”

“I know what happened now. You got out somehow and killed August and Dorothy Grimm! I know you did!”

I sigh. “Ya know, Bethy. As much as I wanna stay out here an be free, I think I’m gonna give ya control back afta all. Ya smart, so I know you’ll learn tha truth.” I’m mad now. “Neva point ya fingas at Harpy unless ya can back it up, Bethy!”

I feel myself in control again. Oh, my god, it’s so cold and wet out here. I hold myself and shiver as I start to walk a little. Soon, I see three figures making their way toward me. It’s the three former detectives that I’ve bested in the escape rooms: Ed Smith, John Riddle, and Brian Davenport. When they see me, they come right to me. 

“Forget about trying to get out through the cemetery, kid,” Ed Smith tells me. 

“Yeah, we tried and tried,” Brian Davenport says. “There just ain’t no way outta here.”

“Looks like you’re stuck here with us, little girl,” John Riddle mutters. 

And then my mutant brain turns on the light bulbs again. Something’s wrong here! I’ve read plenty of science books and have seen enough science work to know that these men . . . aren’t wet in the slightest. It’s been raining like Niagara Falls ever since I got within thirty miles of Strickfield coming home from Shore City. The lightning flashes again, same as earlier. 

I keep remembering my accident from earlier. 

The accident . . . 

Oh, my GOD! That’s it!

I know exactly what happened with that car in the road now!

I look at the men. “You want to know why you can’t get out of here? It’s quite simple really. You’re all dead.”

The man are quite surprised by my statement. 

“Have you finally lost it, little girl?” Riddle demands. “Have you turned stupid now?”

I laugh a little. “Let me point out a few things here.” I raise my hand and touch my index finger. “One . . . In case you haven’t noticed, it’s raining like a really good 4^th of July fireworks show – complete with explosions and booms! Now, how about you three take a good look at each other? Your clothes aren’t even wet. The rain’s just sloshing everything, including me. In fact, I’m cold and soaked right to my bones. My glasses are wet. I’m even trying to keep my hair from matting to my face. Are we understanding the big picture here yet?”

The men look at each other now. Then they look back to me. 

I tap my second finger. “Two . . . I’m hungry. My monster tummy’s been growling for a good half hour now. When was the last time you three felt like eating a good meal? Do any of you even feel like drinking that cheap liquor I’ve smelled on your breaths at some of the escape rooms we’ve met up in? And for the record, I’ve eaten two huge meals since I got here.”

I tap my third finger. “Three . . . You want to know how I actually came to Grimm Manor? It’s how I know now that you three are dead.” 

I tell them about my coming home from Shore City and having to take the detour to get back to Strickfield.

“But then, I ended up hitting a car that was right out in the middle of the road,” I continue. “Since my car was wrecked, I got out and took a look. The car I hit was a burned-out wreck. There were three – three – charred skeletons inside. Those skeletons were you three. Weren’t they? Let me guess how this happened here. You three were on your way out here, since you like to hunt for treasure in addition to trying to best me in escape room challenges. Yeah, I know all about the treasure hunting. I’ve seen your pictures in the papers for that. And good for you, by the way.

“Getting back to now, you three were on your way here to Grimm Manor to look for Beauregard Grimm’s fortune. The way the front end of the car was totaled, you three were going way too fast. Not a good idea on a road that’s really wet, with lots of dangerous curves. But you went off the road and slammed into a tree. Your momentum brought you back onto the road. The car exploded either upon hitting the tree or when you came to a full stop on the road. You three were burned alive in the vehicle because you couldn’t get out. I didn’t see a car out front when I came here, unless you stashed it somewhere before coming here yourselves. Prove me wrong!

“You three became ghosts and found your way here to Grimm Manor. August Grimm said that ghosts tend to find their way here. You three certainly did. I don’t know how long you were here before I arrived. But you three didn’t look the least bit wet. I was soaked through to the bone. Or don’t you remember that Dorothy Grimm took me to get me some fresh clothes?”

I tap my pinky finger. “Four . . .” I reach out to touch the men. The looks on their faces are priceless when my hand passes right through each of them. “I rest my case.”

I raise my thumb. “And five . . . Why did you all got fired from being detectives? Because you don’t pay much attention to details. And details are so very important. If you did pay attention to details, you would have figured this out for yourselves already.”

Having mentioned details, I’ve just made a startling realization! 

The men are still shocked at having been proven they’re ghosts. I look at them and wave. “Ta-ta . . . I’m going back inside to finish solving this mystery.”

I turn around and head back inside the manor. I walk until I’m back in the big living room. I still don’t see the bodies of August and Dorothy Grimm hanging in here. 

“Okay, Beauregard Grimm!” I yell. “Show yourself! I know the truth now.”

Suddenly, the phantasm that’s been haunting me drops down right in front of me and looks me right in the face. 

“I’m not afraid of you anymore,” I tell it defiantly. “Get lost!” 

The phantasm begins to change. In seconds, it becomes August Grimm. 

“When I first entered this house and found all of you here, you were already ghosts. You, your wife, and the three men. I’m the only living person in here,” I tell him. “All this time, August, it’s been you.” I point to the portrait behind him. “You’re Beauregard Grimm! You’ve got a beard there, but you don’t have one now. Or is your real name August Grimm?”

Dorothy’s ghost now appears right beside him. 

“It’s time yew heard tha rest a tha story, young lady,” August concedes. 

“I’m listening,” I reply. 

“Yew know now that Dorothy an I are since departed,” August says. “Yew see, when yer a war deserter, people don’t tend ta fergive an fergit. It’d taken some a muh fellow soldiers quite a while but they finally came across me an Dorothy, they did. By then, Grimm Manor had been standin’ as yew see it now. Those men broke in an found Dorothy an me. Yew know what became a us from there.”

I look at the place where I first saw them hanging. “I’m so sorry this happened to you both,” I say with a heavy heart. 

“August had tha last laugh, darlin’,” Dorothy says with some humor. “Greed can make people do most anythin’. They tried lookin’ fer August’s fortune. August is Beauregard’s middle name, in case ya’ll hadn’t figured it out by now. Anyway, our murderers ended up in tha trapped rooms an died when they couldn’t figure their way out. Now their souls are here, just like tha many others who’ve come here an will continue ta come here.”

Then I’ve got concerns. “I wasn’t here to look for your fortune. All I wanted to do was get out of the storm, call for help, and maybe get some food. Yet, you put me in all those rooms and scared the hell out of me. Why?”

“Because yew was a very intelligent young lady,” August replies. “Those men who found their way here brought yew up, they did. Said yew solved trapped rooms.” He smiles. “We’d a never let any harm come to ya. I just wanted ta see if yew could solve an survive all a tha rooms. As a now, yer tha first.”

“Not only that,” Dorothy adds. “Yew also found all tha numbers. That was my idea.”

“That’s right!” August cheers. “An if y’all can figure out how ta use’em, yew may just end up leavin’ here with muh fortune after all.”

Now I feel excitement. “I can leave?”

“You’re a Mortal, child,” Dorothy replies. “Yew were just here ta seek shelter from tha storm. Like August said, we’d a never let any harm come ta yew.”

“But you kept me trapped inside this house,” I argue. 

“Ah done told ya about them front doors – twice!” August replies. “They tend ta stick real good like that when it rains heavy. When tha storm’s over, yew’ll be able ta walk right on outta here. If’n not for that, yew’d have been free ta go whenever ya liked.”

Dorothy raises her finger. “The clothes yew wore on yer back when yew came here are all nice an dry now.” She looks past me. “Well, it’s lookin’ like the storm’s clearin’ up. It’s gonna be mornin’ soon.” She takes my hand in both of hers. “We gotta be gettin’ along now. We appreciate yew comin’ an spendin’ some time here at Grimm Manor. Ain’t often we get Mortals that come here, ya know.”

“Goodbye ta yew, child,” August says. “Don’t ferget to claim what’s rightfully yers before ya leave. Yew earned it!”

August and Dorothy disappear, leaving me all alone now. I walk through the house and make my way to the back doors. I look outside to the graveyard and see nobody’s out there. Even the three former detectives are gone. They’re a part of Grimm Manor now and have to leave when the night’s over. They’ll return when it’s sunset, I’m sure. 

I definitely want my own clothes. I move and head back up to my room. I walk in and see my clothes laid out for me at the foot of the bed all folded nice and neat. I yawn and am so tempted to just get naked and get back in this comfy bed again. I’ve been up nearly all night, and I want to go to sleep. Then my tummy says don’t even think about it. 

Also, I remember how Harpy took over in the attic. I won’t be able to sleep knowing she can take over again. 

Then I see her in the mirror again, purple hair and red eyes. 

“Ya ain’t neva gettin’ rid a Harpy, Sissy,” she says. “Where you go, Harpy goes.”

I groan. “I can’t believe I’ve got multiple personality disorder. Why me?”

Harpy laughs. “Harpy’s got personality, honey, but I sure ain’t one a your personalities. Wake up, will ya? I’m ya fuckin’ sista.”

I put my hands to my ears. “I don’t hear you!”

“Have it ya way. Now get us outta here an go eat, will ya? An we ain’t done. We’ll neva be done. We’ll always be a part a each otha . . . For betta or for worse.”

When I look in the mirror again, Harpy just smirks. I ignore her and remove my soaked Civil War-era clothes. After putting my original clothes back on, I wipe the remaining rainwater off my glasses. When I put them back on, I look at the portrait of Beauregard Grimm again. 

It can’t be that easy, can it?

I reach out and find I can open the portrait like a small door. There’s a safe here! Yeah, I guess it was that easy. At least this part. However, I could never open the safe without having been through those escape rooms. That’s what those numbers I found represent. 

The combination to the safe is a combination of 38, 6, 24, and 39. 

I quickly work the permutations in my head and come up with all the possible combinations using those four numbers. I only have to work the dial with the order I found the numbers. I turn the lever and open the safe. My heart’s really pounding now. 

I take out a few stacks of bills from way back when. This old money’s got to be worth a lot in today’s money. I almost wondered if it was worthless Confederate money, but it’s not. I hadn’t given any thought to hunting for this money. I hadn’t even known about it until August Grimm told the story. 

If those former detectives were still alive, they’d have many more reasons to be pissed off at me now. I find two suitcases big enough to put all of the money in and close everything back up. Just looking at all this money . . . My tummy growls again to remind me of what I’m going to be spending both this fortune and my escape room prize money on. Okay, I’m not likely going to eat up all the money for quite some time. I can honestly say I’m quite rich now, at least for the time being. 

When my tummy rumbles and starts hurting, I know it’s time to go. 

I take the suitcases of money and head down to the front doors. I try the knobs and find both doors open quite easily. It’s dawn and the storm is gone. I step outside and close the doors behind me. Then I walk back to the road. I’ll have to flag down somebody who can call me a tow truck. 

“No way!” I cry when I reach the road. 

My car is sitting on the side of the road, and the car I ended up hitting isn’t even here. My car doesn’t even look damaged. I load the suitcases and get in. The car starts right up. 

“Yes!” I shriek happily. The downside, however, is that my smartphone is still damaged. I’ll just have to buy a new one later on when I’m back in Strickfield. 

I follow the detour signs and eventually enter Strickfield. I never thought I’d be so happy to see this beautiful village again. My tummy really growls and starts hurting more as I make the turn onto the main road . . . and see Denoyer’s Grill. I waste no time in getting into that parking lot and getting inside. 

The smells of heavenly breakfast foods hit me right in the face. Once I’m seated. I order four breakfast platters, two pitchers of orange juice, and some coffee to get me started. You get such great value for your money here at Denoyer’s Grill. That’s why people love coming here so much. That, and the food is just amazing. And with all the money I got, I’ll be eating good here for quite some time. This was truly a 4^th of July to be remembered indeed.

However, I’m not okay. I can still feel the vengeful Harpy inside me, waiting for her opportunity to take over again. I can keep her contained inside me. 

But for how much longer . . . ?

The End