The heavy door swung inward, revealing a grand but decaying bedroom.
A massive king-sized bed dominated the space, its mattress sagging and torn.
Hanging above the headboard was a faded oil painting of a blazing sun, its paint cracked and peeling away like dead skin.
For some reason, Sam found himself glancing back at it every few seconds.
A towering wooden wardrobe stood against one wall, while several battered chests of drawers were scattered around the room.
“We should open everything,” Sam said, keeping his voice quiet but firm.
“Check for keys, tools, or anything that looks like a clue to the exit.”
Alice and Bella nodded in unison, immediately fanning out to begin their search.
Sam stepped up to the nearest dresser and grabbed its tarnished metal handle.
The moment his fingers closed around it, they were coated in a thick, greasy layer of grey dust.
Grimacing, he wiped his hand on his jeans before yanking the drawer open.
Empty.
Only a few stray splinters sat at the bottom.
He moved to the next one, and then the next, his hands moving mechanically while his eyes secretly tracked the two girls across the room.
Nothing.
Every compartment he opened was just another hollow void of dust.
“Oh! I’m so sorry…”
Sam flinched slightly as Bella accidentally bumped into his back.
He had been so deeply lost in his own thoughts that the sudden physical contact made his heart skip a beat.
“It’s okay, Bella,” Sam said quickly, turning around and forcing his posture to relax.
The rabbit girl looked up at him, her long white ears drooping slightly as she wrung her hands.
“Hey… your name is Leon, right? I think I heard someone call you that earlier.”
“Yeah. That’s correct,” Sam lied, the alias rolling off his tongue with practised ease.
Looking down at her fragile, trembling frame, a sharp pang of guilt pricked at Sam’s conscience.
He felt terrible weaving a web of lies to a girl who had just lost her closest friend.
But the reality of where they were quickly smothered the guilt.
He couldn’t risk it.
In this game, survival had to come before sympathy.
“Well… I just wanted to say thank you. For letting me team up with you guys,” Bella murmured, a fragile, grateful smile touching her lips as she offered her hand to him.
“Of course,” Sam responded smoothly, reaching out and wrapping his fingers around hers.
But as their hands locked in a polite shake, a sudden, piercing realisation flashed through Sam’s mind.
His smile slowly disappeared.
He didn’t let go of her hand just yet.
“Hey, Bella…”
“Yes?” she asked, tilting her head, her white rabbit ears twitching slightly.
“Why did you vote to split up?” Sam asked, his voice dropping to a calm whisper.
“I would have thought you, out of everyone here, would have wanted to stay in a single, massive group. Especially after what just happened to Ellie.”
She didn’t answer immediately.
Bella froze, her eyes fluttering shut for a couple of agonising seconds as her chest rose and fell in a shaky breath.
When she finally opened them, the fragile gratitude was gone, replaced by a look of sheer exhaustion.
“I just… I just want to get out of this place as soon as possible,” she choked out.
Fresh tears welled in her eyes, spilling over her pale cheeks.
She looked utterly defeated.
Sam’s analytical walls fractured, a wave of guilt hitting him.
“I understand,” he said gently, releasing her hand and taking a half-step back.
“I’m sorry for bringing it up.”
Bella offered a faint, trembling nod and turned away, wiping her face as she retreated back to her corner of the room.
After that, the room fell into complete silence.
Not a single word was spoken.
The silence was thick and heavy, punctuated only by the rhythmic scraping of drawers and the creak of old wood.
As Alice searched, her eyes occasionally darted between Sam and Bella, but she kept her mouth shut.
Minutes bled away until, finally, every single drawer lay yanked open and the massive wooden wardrobe stood completely bare.
Nobody had found a thing.
“Looks like this place is a total bust,” Alice said, her shoulders slumping as she frowned at the empty wardrobe.
Bella shared her disappointment, staring despondently at the dusty floorboards.
But Sam wasn’t looking at the empty furniture.
His eyes were locked onto the only thing in the room they hadn’t physically touched yet.
He stared up at the cracked, peeling oil painting of the sun.
“Hang on…” he murmured, stepping toward the centre of the room.
Before either of them could ask what he was doing, Sam climbed onto the sagging mattress.
The old springs groaned beneath his boots as he reached out, gripping the sides of the heavy, ornate wooden frame.
He lifted the heavy frame from the wall before lowering it onto the bed.
Tucked deep inside the dark hole was a tiny, glinting yellow key.
Sam reached into the recess, pulled out the tiny key, and held it up to the dim bedroom light.
“Wow! You actually found something!” Alice cheered, a massive wave of relief breaking through her tense expression.
“Nice job!”
Sam hopped down from the bed, offering her a confident thumbs-up.
Finally, something had gone right.
With the yellow key tucked safely into his pocket, the trio slipped back out into the chilly corridor to wait for the others.
The drafty hallway felt even creepier now that they were standing still, staring at the row of empty frames.
After a few agonising minutes, the heavy door to an adjacent room clicked open, and the second team trudged out.
Their slumped shoulders told the story before they even spoke—they had found absolutely nothing.
To break the heavy mood, Sam held up the yellow key.
He explained how it had been hidden behind the sun painting.
The second team’s disappointment instantly evaporated into cheers and high-fives.
They showered Sam with praise, clapping him on the back until a faint blush crept across his face.
“Excellent work, Leon!” Bert boomed, clapping his massive hands together.
For the first time since entering the mansion, Sam felt a flicker of genuine hope.
All they had to do now was wait for the final team to finish their sweep so they could share the good news.
With any luck, they would have found another clue to the exit.
But as the minutes ticked by, the hallway grew increasingly quiet.
The silence stretched, becoming heavier and more suffocating with every passing second.
The final team still hadn’t returned.
“Maybe we should go check on them,” Alice suggested, her voice dropping as she glanced nervously toward the far end of the corridor.
A collective murmur of agreement rippled through the remaining contestants.
They moved as a pack, walking toward the heavy wooden door that the final group had entered.
Sam reached out, grabbed the handle, and pushed it open.
The sight beyond the door stole the breath from Sam’s lungs.
The room belonged to Ryan’s team—and there the seagull-man lay.
His massive white wings were splayed awkwardly across the floorboards, completely drenched and matted with thick, pooling blood.
Beside him lay the twisted, motionless bodies of his two teammates, their faces pale and eyes staring blankly at the ceiling.
The floor was a crimson lake.
Everyone in the room was dead.