THE MAZE

Chapter Eight: John Hightop

Most of these people are here solely for the prospect of winning one million dollars. But I'm not. In fact, I couldn't care less about the prize money.

I am here to find my wife.

I have a strong, unyielding hunch that she is somewhere here, in The Maze. I can't put a pinpoint on what or why, but I can feel her presence. The pieces are starting to come together like the assembly of a jigsaw puzzle.

Eileen mysteriously and soundlessly disappeared on a sunny Sunday afternoon in May, peculiarly similar to today, just last year. I had slept in that morning and woke up to find a handwritten note laying on the kitchen table right next to a stack of fresh blueberry pancakes. It read,

John,

Going grocery shopping this morning. Will be back before noon.

Love, Eileen

Without thinking anything of it, I started my day. I went through the daily motions of a lazy Sunday until noontime came around and she still wasn't back. I thought it was a little strange, but concluded that she was most likely just running late and would be back any minute now.

Seconds ticked by into minutes which ticked by into hours. By 3:00 pm, I was starting to get concerned. There is no way that grocery shopping could take this long.

I remember sitting in the rocking chair by the front window, my eyes continuously flitting to the driveway in hopes of seeing her red SUV pull in.

But it never did, and little did I know, it never would.

I don't have to tell you the rest of the story because the only thing that truly matters is that I am here at The Maze right now. And I am going to find her.

Puzzles have always sort of been my thing; ever since I was a child I have always had a knack for riddles and games. I don't mean to sound like I'm bragging, but I would like to say it is what keeps me extra sharp at the age of seventy-five. The exact same goes for Ellen; she is as sharp as a whip and has a complimentary knack for puzzles. I know without a shadow of doubt that she would be able to correctly navigate her way through The Maze.

I know that Room 26 is the correct room to enter. After quickly decoding the hieroglyphic symbols etched on the scrolls of paper, I am able to deduce Doors 20, 21 and 41 as "red herring" doors; doors intended to seem potentially valid, but actually, mislead you from the correct path.

Without looking back, I quickly walk through the dark connecting corridor. I close my eyes, briefly picturing Eileen's face in my mind. I know it may be foolish for me to be doing this, but if there is even the slightest chance that she is somewhere in here, I am not giving up until every corner of every room in this damn house is searched from head to toe.

This "house."

I'm not sure if this place can even be called a house.

More like a sinister, foreboding structure designed to have the facade of a house but the interior of a dark enigma.

I begin to feel the corridor floor slope downwards, first gradually and then much more steeply as I continue to walk. A few times I have to grip the stone wall to prevent myself from slipping. My ears begin to pop from the pressure of going further and further underground.

How far underground can this passage go?

Just when I think I may be approaching the core of the Earth, I bump right into a large wooden door. I push it open, and it creaks on its hinges. I slowly walk into the gloomy, poorly lit cavern. The air is damp and musty, and the only light comes from a small jet of sunlight streaming through a hole from high above. The rocky walls seem to stretch up endlessly, with oddly-shaped protrusions jutting out at random points.

I have the awful feeling that there is an oppressing weight hanging over my head, but nonetheless, I walk forward into the center of the cavern. There are only two doors; dark openings carved out of the stone walls with the numbers 40 and 25 scribbled on wooden signs that lay above them.

However, there are two other objects in the space that catch my eye. One is a large painting of an eye, which lies on the top of a pile of crumbled, dusty rocks. The words, "DO NOT LOOK UP, FOR THE WEIGHT OF THE WORLD IS ABOVE" are painted beneath the eye. I am immediately perplexed.

The other is a paper sign, posted in between the two doors. Upon closer inspection, I discover that parts of the sign have been torn away, making some parts of its message difficult to read.

This is what I obtain (I have replaced the missing words with blanks):

IMPORTANT NOTICE:

All those who are visiting this house must be ____to the individual representing himself as your ____ because ____ is no other than the ____.

-ROY F.T.

What the hell does this message mean? And who is Roy?

I read the sign two more times, each time hoping to figure something out. But I do not.

Yet just as I am about to turn away, something catches my eye.

How did I not notice this before?

ROY F. T.

ROYFT

FORTY

A simple anagram, cleverly disguised in a counterfeit name.

Before walking through the entrance to Room 40, I take one last glance at the eye painting. It appears to be staring right at me, it's dark pupil burning right into mine. I take one last deep breath then walk into the cool darkness.

If I had stayed just one second longer, I would have realized that I was being followed.