Author's Note: I've been sitting on some ideas for this story for a while, and I thought it might be nice to try a different genre of fanfiction. This will be set in the anime verse, a few years after the episode 45.

Disclaimer: I do not own Detective School Q. Amagi Seimaru, Sato Fumiya, and Animax do.

The room was dark, its horrifying contents barely visible due to the flickering lights. Like some cliché horror movie, jars upon jars of preserved, yet unidentifiable samples sat on rows of shelves that lined in front of the room's walls. It was obvious that they had once been painted white, but years of degradation had caused the paint to peel, revealing old, rotting plaster underneath. The monotony of the colors was only broken by sprays of droplets that were the color of rust.

A malodorous scent was in the air. It was an unpleasant combination of preservatives, blood, mold, and grime. It had been sitting there for quite a while, since there were no windows that could be opened, and the ventilation unit had not been functional for an unknown length of time.

Surrounded by large pieces of run-down machinery, in the center of the room, a figure with long, dark hair laid still on the table like some bizarre mannequin in a doctor's office. Its head lolled onto its chest, hiding its face. Beneath the tattered clothing it wore, the figure's rib cage was startlingly visible, as well as various cuts, bruises, burns, and scars scattered all over the body, covered here and there by splatters of blood and grime. One of its arms and both of its legs hung limply off of the edge of the table. They dangled in the air, but were otherwise unmoving.

However, two things made it obvious that the figure wasn't simply a doll. First, its other arm was hooked up to an I.V., which was running dangerously low, even though it was being emptied at such a slow rate. Second, a heartbeat monitor connected to the figure's decidedly male torso was registering a gradually lowering, yet surprisingly steady pulse.

Gradually, the heartbeat monitor began to beep faster. The figure stirred, and his heavy eyes cracked open. After a few minutes of gazing into the darkness surrounding him, he closed its eyes once more, the fading hum of the electricity lulling him to a deep sleep.

Three boys and a girl stood by a car parked outside of a strange looking house. In some places, it bulged outward, yet it curved inwards in others. The walls had cracks all over them, as well as graffiti courtesy of recent vandalism, and the yard was full of weeds and dry grass. All in all, this was no place for the four well-dressed schoolkids to be hanging around. It was so unexpected that the tallest of the three boys turned to the others, squinting against the sun. "Are you sure that this is the right place?"

The shortest of the boys turned to a laptop that sat in the trunk of the car. Pulling up the saved webpage and reading its contents, he nodded and said, "This building was definitely one of Kuzuryuu Takumi's creations. There's even a local legend surrounding this house."

"A local legend?" asked the girl, her pink hair swinging as she gave her full attention to him.

"Yeah," the boy replied, after adjusting his orange beanie. "The man who had this place built was an eccentric old man, who, towards the end of his life, started to fear death and became obsessed with finding ways to live longer. Rumor has it that he created a small lab so that he could experiment with different chemicals and samples in hopes of discovering a solution that would help him achieve immortality. However, he became paranoid with his work, and refused to discuss it with anyone else, since he was afraid that thieves would find out his goal, break into his lab, and steal his research so that they could become immortal themselves. So he hired Kuzuryuu Takumi to build rooms around his lab, and filled them with many traps and surprises, so that no one would be able to get to it.

Eventually, as time went on, the old man's mailbox started to fill up. The mail carrier noticed and knocked on the door to let him know, but there was no answer. He called the police, and eventually, an unidentifiable set of remains were found in the front yard. People assumed that they were the old man's, since no one had been spotted trespassing on his property. The investigation was closed, and the media leaked a few stories about his quest for immortality. Some curious or greedy people have tried to find the lab, in hopes that he had had a major breakthrough in his research. However, without fail, all of those people have either gotten lost, only to be found without their memories, or has gone missing entirely, never to be seen again. Because of this legend, no one has been willing to buy the house, let alone step foot in it, so it has been abandoned all these years."

"…I see," the last of the three boys nodded, his mind focused on what his friend wasn't saying. "So you believe that he could be in there."

The other three flinched at his words.

"After all this time….," the girl murmured. The long-lasting moment of silence that followed her statement was filled with apprehension, fear, and anxiety as they thought about what they were about to do. They were about to risk their lives in a house of tricks and traps, in order to find their missing friend, who may already be dead, or who may not even be there in the first place.

The silence was soon broken by the tall boy. "Well, we won't know unless we try," he declared. Followed by the others, he made his way to the front steps of the door. Despite his brave face and the courageous tone that accompanied his words, he couldn't help but be worried.

What sorts of horrible things laid ahead?

Should I continue this story? Tell me what you think! No flames, please….