The Playing Fields First Draft

Chapter Fourteen

     The room was as dark as the tunnel, the air was musky.

     Rick went in first to search around, and found four candles sitting on a table.

     "Come on in!" Rick called out to the women. "It's safe!"

     Claire and Mari cautiously entered the room, suspicious of any kind of trick that could jump out at them. Claire looked toward where Rick was holding the torch, while Mari looked behind them for anything that could pop out from the darkness.

     "Are those candles?" Claire asked.

     Rick nodded as Claire and Mari went to the table. "I think they knew we'd only carry one torch, so they left us candles."

     That doesn't make any sense. Claire realized that they could have just as easily broken off another table leg for a makeshift torch.

     But it seemed like the fae based their game off of horror movies, and while not everything was the exact same as a horror movie, the theme was still there. Claire gave Mari a concerned glance. Which one of us would be the final girl? The trope being a final survivor being a favorite among horror filmmakers where they have a young woman survive the bloody night.

     Only to be killed off in the sequel. Claire shivered. It wasn't often that a final survivor would make it through multiple movies. It was a rarity which Claire could only think of one such character surviving multiple movies and then fade into obscurity, and if the fae were taking their lessons from horror movies, the result would be bad for any survivors. We'd go through the same game over and over again until we're dead.

     Examining the candle on the far right, Claire picked it up for further inspection. The candle was a putrid green color in a blood red painted candle cup. The cup was metal in texture, and so cold to the touch that Claire felt herself shiver. From the cold, or the horrific situation I'm in. Claire held the candle out for Rick to light, Mari did the same and Claire noticed the same shivers coming from the older woman.

     With the lit candle in hand Claire examined the room, though there was barely any light emanating from it. If only there were lights. Claire sighed. The fae were doing whatever they could to slow the progress of the abductees, for whatever reason as the changeling was stuck outside of the house.

     Interesting place. Claire moved through the room, inspecting bookshelves, and the mud covered carpets. Was this a library at one point? Claire wondered as she picked up a piece of broken wood, and threw it into the darkness.

     The sound of the wood hitting the ground echoed in the room.

     Well, it wouldn't hurt to find another door. Claire thought as she walked over to where she heard the wood hit the ground. Claire looked over at Mari and Rick, both looking for the component and stopped.

     "Hey Rick, wanna swap?" Claire asked holding up the candle.

     "Why?"

     "I want to see if there's another way out of here." Claire replied.

     "Gotcha." Rick said.

     The two met halfway, Claire handed over her candle, Rick his torch. "Be careful." Rick warned. "There may be a way out for us, but it's also a way in for him."

     Claire nodded as she turned, no words were needed to affirm the danger they'd be in if there was another door. "Good luck." Claire said.

     The torch illuminated a much bigger room than Claire thought it would be. The room turned into a hall as Claire continued walking through what she now called the library. Dusty books littered the library, many of them looked to be centuries old. I wonder how many valuable first editions are in here? The bookworm side of Claire emerged from hiding as she picked up a book.