Serial

14. Set

      Trey Curtis woke up with a groggy memory and a pounding head, to the sound of a muffled voice calling out.

      “Hello? Is anyone here?”

      Trey lifted his head and struggled to speak. His mouth was dry and voice coarse.

      “In here…”

      “Hello?” The voice was traveling farther down the hallway.

     Trey struggled to his feet. He swayed dangerously as he walked, and found the wall to stabilize himself. Slowly he walked towards the door of the drawing room. A wave of dizziness passed over him, and as he got to the door he fell to his knees, hitting the wall with a thud.

     The house was silent for a moment. Trey lent against the wall, breathing deeply as dizziness and nausea washed over him.

     The handle of the door slowly turned. A young woman poked her head through, looking around carefully. “Hello? Is there someone in here?”

     Trey struggled to raise his hand to get her attention. “Here. Right here…”

     The woman jumped slightly at the proximity of Trey, then hurried in to help him to his feet. She led him to a chair and sat him down while she rifled through a large leather pouch that hung off her waist, finally pulling out a small plastic water bottle. She opened it and handed it to Trey, who took it gratefully, drinking it all in a matter of seconds.

     “It should start to get better. I was the same way when I woke up.”

     “What happened?” Trey asked, leaning his head against the back of the chair and taking more deep breaths.

     “I don't know entirely… There was some weird voice talking about the party, then I passed out. I woke up about 10 minutes ago.”

     Trey opened his eyes and took a good look at the woman. She was in her early 20's. Her dirty-blonde hair was tied up in a messy bun, and a World War 2 style gas mask that hung slanted off her head. She wore tight leather pants, with straps of leather pouches that hung off the sides. Her torso was bound with a tight corset, and over that was a short leather jacket.

     The pounding in Trey's head began to cease, and he began to regulate his breathing. He held up the bottle in acknowledgement. “Thank you. You're right I'm starting to feel better.”

     “I'm Annabelle by the way.” She held out her hand.

     “Trey. I like your costume. Steampunk is pretty cool.”

     “Oh. Yeah, I just borrowed this from my roommate. What are you supposed to be?”

     Trey pulled out an old werewolf mask from inside his jacket and shrugged. “I borrowed mine too. What the hell?”

     Trey looked down at his wrist as he raised the mask up, and noticed for the first time the strange watch. The watch face was a large square, with a digital clock face that slowly ticked away. The band of the watch was metal, and it seemed to be fused to the face itself. Trey tried to peel it off, with no results.

     “f**k. You too?” Annabelle held up her wrist, showing off a matching watch.

     “What the f**k is going on? Is this time right? Was I out for an hour?” Trey searched his pockets, trying to find his phone, but came up with nothing.

     “I wish I knew. You're the first one I found.”

     “There are others here? I only saw the butler.”

     “Well the weird voice before said there were like 12 people invited to the party. We can't be the only ones.”

     “f**k this. It's time to go home. Do you remember where the door is?” Trey stood up. He swayed slightly, but quickly gained his composure.

      “Kind of. Not really. I'm sure we can find it together.”

      The two left the room together. Trey tried to remember the way back down the twisting hallways, but the walls all looked the same and the paintings seemed to blend together. Finally, after numerous dead ends, they heard a loud voice yelling down the hall. Annabelle trotted towards it, Trey grabbed her wrist before she got too far away.

      “What are you doing? Someone's down there.” Annabelle craned her neck, trying to see around the corner.

      “Look something weird is going on here. All I know is that there's never been a horror story that's went well by going towards the weird noises.” Trey said it in a low voice, pulling Annabelle to the side of the hall.

“     The door is down this way. Look!”

      Trey peeked around the corner, and saw the great chandelier and the twisting staircase. He took a tentative step forward.

      “Freeze!”

      “Whoa man! I'm just trying to leave.” Trey walked forward and put his hands up. Standing in front of the door was a man in his forties. He wore a bomber jacket over a dress shirt and pants. His hair was tousled, and there was a wild look in his eyes. He held up a Bonbury police badge as he barked at Trey.

      “Nobody is going anywhere until I get some f*****g answers. You too, get out here.”

      Annabelle walked out from the hallway, handles also up.

      “Alright man, how can I help?” Trey walked forward slowly, and spoke calmly.

      “Where did my f*****g gun go?”

      “Gun? I haven't seen any gun.”

      “Bullshit. Someone took it. Where the f**k is it?” The man yelled this out into the abyss, directing it at the entire house.

     “Empty your pockets. Both of you. NOW!”

      Trey scrambled to take out his wallet, his car keys, and a pile of receipts from his pants pockets. From his jacket he pulled out the werewolf mask and his invitation to the party. Annabelle was busy beside him, pulling out water bottles and makeup from from her various pouches.

     The man walked forward and started to pat down Trey. When he finished he pushed him away, then turned to Annabelle.

     She let out a sharp laugh and took a step away from him. “There's no f*****g way I'm letting you cop a feel.”

      “Come on. If she was hiding a gun you would be able to see it.”

     The man looked over her, eyeing her tight pants and jacket, then turned sharply away from them.

      Trey took another slow step forward.“I don't know anything. About you, about your gun, or about this damn house. I'm just trying to get out of this crazy and go home.”

      The man put his hands up to his head, pulling his hair and giving out a short yell. He stormed over to the door and kicked it repeatedly. After a few seconds he stopped, dropped his shoulders and took a couple deep breaths. He backed away from the door and turned back to Trey.

      “Be my guest.”

      Trey walked past the man, keeping him in his vision the whole time. He got to the big double doors, and pulled hard on the handles.

      “It's locked.” Trey said it out loud and matter-of-factly.

      “Oh? It's locked? Really? Locked? You don't f*****g SAY!”

      “Well f**k. What now?”

      Then static came over the speakers once more.