After everyone else had retired for the night, Jenkins remained in the lounge, the last one left. He waved off the villa's servants, telling them not to mind him, and settled into the softest armchair by the fireplace with a book titled *The Investigator’s Records*.
It was a novel Jenkins had discovered on a bookshelf in his room. The publication date showed it had been printed half a century ago, but the story was surprisingly engaging.
Jenkins rarely stayed up late; even an engrossing novel couldn't tempt him past midnight. He held the book in one hand while rhythmically stroking Chocolate on his lap. The cat seed quite content, though it wished his touch were a little gentler.
“Alright, ti for bed.”
As the grandfather clock on the wall chid the half-hour, marking eleven-thirty, he rose with the dozing cat in his arms. He set the book down on the armchair, then knelt and used the poker to bank the fire in the hearth. With a long, satisfying stretch, he started for the stairs.
Portraits of unknown figures lined the wall at the top of the stairs. Jenkins held his candlestick aloft, its flickering light cutting through the dim corridor as he walked. Being a villa nestled deep in the mountains, it naturally lacked gas lighting.
His room was the last one, tucked away at the very end of the hall. He passed his friends' rooms, finding them all silent. As he tiptoed to his own door, a sliver of moonlight broke through the swirling snow outside, stretching his shadow across the opposite wall. Beside it, a tentacle-like shape danced and swayed—the restless twitching of Chocolate's tail.
“Tomorrow's plan is...”
He froze, his hand hovering over the doorknob. Instead of opening the door, he leaned back and glanced further down the hall, toward the very end of the corridor.
“I thought my room was the last one.”
He wasn't mistaken; his room number was correct. And yet, there was now another room beyond his.
“What is this?”
The extra room's door was nothing like the standard ones lining the hall. It was made of stone, a style that clashed completely with the villa's decor.
“A chaotic, colorful aura... another Numbered Item? This definitely wasn't here before.”
He stood there, hesitating for a long mont, trying to recall if he knew of any supernatural item that manifested this way. Nothing ca to mind.
“To think, sothing like this happens on our very first day,” he mused. “Is this the price of obtaining a new Savior's Emblem?”
He remained before the strange door for so ti before tentatively reaching for the handle. The mont he did, the chain of his pocket watch began to vibrate wildly. He pulled his hand back, not daring to touch it. Instead, he returned to his room, sat on the edge of his bed for a second, then stood, leaving a perfect, shadowy duplicate sitting in his place.
“Stay here and wait for .”
He set his cat down as well, since the Real Illusion ability only applied to him.
“If I'm not back in an hour, go find Hathaway. Got it?”
The kitten looked up at him and, after a mont's hesitation, nodded. Satisfied, Jenkins picked up the candlestick and went back into the hall.
He still hadn't decided whether to enter, wanting only to observe it a little longer. To his surprise, however, the door was gone.
“...”
He rapped his knuckles against the wall. There was no unusual sound, just solid plaster.
“Well, so much for an exciting adventure.”
Unsure if he felt relieved or disappointed, he simply shrugged and went back to his room to sleep.
He slept dreamlessly and woke at six in the morning, feeling wide awake. The curtains were drawn, but he could hear the wind howling and the snow lashing against the windowpane. It looked like their planned outing for the day would have to be postponed.
The cat was still fast asleep, so Jenkins slipped on his slippers and tiptoed into the hall. The pre-dawn sky left the corridor in pitch darkness, but Jenkins, wearing his monocle, was unbothered by the gloom.
He checked again: there was no strange door at the end of the corridor. If Chocolate hadn't seen it too, Jenkins might have thought he had imagined the whole thing.
“How strange.”
During breakfast, he took the opportunity to tell Hathaway what he'd seen. She had no idea what it could be. Together, they subtly questioned their friends about any ghost stories or strange legends associated with the villa, but nothing they heard matched his experience.
“Since it vanished, it must be sothing that moves around,” Hathaway said reassuringly. “We just need to be careful when we open any doors and make sure we don't walk into the wrong one.”
The plan for the day had been to follow a set path east to a cliff edge, where they could take in the panoramic view of the mountains. The sudden blizzard, however, had left them snowbound in the villa.
Still, the villa was spacious enough. If they needed to pass the ti, they could easily spend a few days exploring its confines without issue.
Jenkins spent the entire morning by the fire, engrossed in *The Investigator’s Records*. At one point, Briny Mikhail stopped by to invite him to join her and the others for a walk in the snow, but he was at a particularly thrilling part of the story and had to politely decline.
It was a truly brilliant semi-fictional novel; Jenkins thought it was even better than the bestselling *Detective Knight Biography*. He couldn't understand why it hadn't beco a classic half a century ago. He'd certainly never heard any of his elders ntion it.
He resolved to finish the book today to avoid it cutting into their plans for the rest of the trip.
Throughout his reading, Chocolate remained perfectly behaved, content to lie on his lap and be petted. The cat's lack of mischief was so unusual that Jenkins made a ntal note to reward it with a feast once they returned ho.
Just before noon, Quake passed by the lounge and inford Jenkins that lunch would be served soon. Jenkins finally set the novel aside, stretched, and carried his cat out into the hall.
“Have Miss Mikhail and the others returned yet?”
He asked a nearby footman.
“Not yet, Mr. Williams.”
the footman replied.
Given the blizzard, they couldn't have gone far. Besides, with Hathaway and the guards accompanying them, it was highly unlikely they were in any danger.
Jenkins didn't give it another thought and turned to chat with Quake. Of the seven travelers, only the two of them had remained at the villa; Quake had woken up too late to join the others.
Twenty minutes later, a Mr. Joel Mangus ca to let them know that lunch was ready, but by then, the others still hadn't returned.
Reviews
All reviews (0)