Layton woke up, shaking his head. He looked around. It was pitch black, where ever he was.
"What on Earth?" He muttered. He felt the top of his head. His hat had come off. He felt about in the dark until his fingers came in touch the familiar material. He placed it on his head, feeling a bit more secure. He began to think.
How had he got here?
Where was he?
Where were Luke and Flora?
Who had brought him here?
He thought of the questions coming up with answers.
How had he got here?
He couldn't remember exactly. He remembered screaming. He recoiled a figure grabbing him, sticking something into his arm, knocking him out. He couldn't remember anything else.
Where was he?
He wasn't sure. It was dark, and cold. That's all he knew.
Where were Luke and Flora?
Again, he didn't know the answer. They weren't in the room with him. He would have heard them or sensed them. As far as he could tell, he was on his own.
Who had brought him here?
Another question he couldn't quite answer. He vaguely remembered the figure. A short person.
He stood up, deciding he couldn't stay in here much longer. He walked about, occasionally pausing to feel his surroundings.
He felt a hedge beneath his hand. The leaves and twigs brushed his fingers. As he felt his way along it seemed to be like he was in some sort of maze.
Was he?
"This is certainly a perplexing situation." He whispered, frowning in the darkness.
As he was thinking about the situation, a sudden voice rang out, probably from speakers.
"Hello Layton," The voice was disguised so Layton couldn't recognised it. Does that mean they had met before? And how did he know Layton's name?
"Have I met you before?" Layton asked the voice.
"Whatever gave you that idea?" The voice asked, laughing hollowly.
"You're voice is disguised so I couldn't recognise you," Layton said calmly. He heard the voice growl.
"There are many reasons why a person would disguise his voice, Layton,"
"And, may I ask, how do you know my name?"
"Who doesn't? You're famous all over London."
"Hmm…"
"Don't believe me? I would. Always trust a person on a loud speaker."
"Should I trust you?"
"That's for you to decide." The voice replied.
"Why am I here?" Layton asked, looking around, "And why are you keeping me in the dark?"
The voice laughed.
"Layton, Layton, Layton. We're going to have a little fun."
"Fun for you or me?" Layton raised his eyebrow.
"Me,"
"Please explain."
"On each floor, you will find yourself faced with a puzzle. Complete the puzzle and you will find yourself onto the next floor. Get to the top floor and you Flora back,"
"And if I lose?"
"You get to meet me,"
"…"
"Actually. You'll meet me either way. It's more fun. For me anyway."
"Why is it dark?" Layton asked. The voice ignored his question.
"This is your first puzzle,"
"Go on,"
"I can be long, or I can be short.
I can be grown, and I can be bought.
I can be painted, or left bare.
I can be round, or square.
What am I?"
Layton paused.
"The answer is fingernails. But I don't understand? How will this help me?"
"You're the puzzle master. You figure it out."
"Well, before I do, would you be so kind as to turn on the lights?"
There was a grunt. Then the lights flickered on.
Layton was indeed in a maze. He looked about. The hedges were so high up it would be impossible to climb them. But a maze inside? Really?
"Well, Layton, I leave you now. See you on the next floor."
The Professor looked around, thinking about what to do. Without thinking about it, he looked down at his own fingernails.
They were long, and badly needed cut.
They would be good for scratching.
Layton looked at his feet. The ground was made of dirt. But it couldn't be.
He looked up. There was a ceiling over his head. He was in a building. So why was there dirt?
"There must be concrete underneath it." He said aloud. He looked at his fingernails. They were perfect for digging. But how did the voice know?
If there was dirt, there must be concrete underneath. Maybe he could dig his way down, and perhaps find something to lead him to the next floor.
He had no other plan.
Getting to his knees, he began digging.
He was unaware of how long he dug for. He had no watch or means of telling the time. He stood up, looking at his work of art. He had finally dug down to the concrete. But he found nothing. It was a dead end.
Sighing, he began to consider other options.
He decided to walk about.
After hitting many dead ends, he found his way into the heart of the maze. A huge open area, covered in dirt was laid out before him. He was about to walk forwards when the voice rang out again.
"Oh, did I mention, I may have accidently on purpose persuaded a pack of wolfs into the maze. I forgot to feed them. There a bit hungry. No biggie."
Layton looked about, panicking. But he saw nothing. Nothing that could tell him if there where wolfs. Perhaps the voice was joking. Getting him worked up. Even so, Layton decided to tread carefully. He wished Luke was there, in case he did meet wolfs. Then he could have spoken to them.
He wandered into the maze. He looked around. Perhaps he wasn't meant to dig with his fingernails.
Perhaps, instead, he was to climb. Or scratch. Or something different entirely.
Layton looked around, and noticed something. One of the maze walls was actually a concrete wall.
Why was that?
Walking over to it, he saw the wall was wallpapered, as if to hide something underneath it. Layton walked to the far side of the wall. One of the corners of the wallpaper was peeling off. Nobody could have peeled it away; in less they had nails like Layton's. The peeling wallpaper seemed deliberate. But how did this voice, the person behind the voice, know he had to cut his nails?
Putting all thoughts to the back of his mind, he set about picking off the wallpaper. It was slow work. He began to pull of bigger and bigger pieces, until the wall was practically wallpaper-free. Layton stood back.
He noticed, in big letters, the words "Layton-Duck!"
Layton threw himself to the ground, just in time to miss a wolf hurdling itself at Layton. It missed, and flew into the wall.
Layton looked around. The other wolf where behind him. Running away? They were scared. Why?
Layton spun around. The concrete wall was crumbling due to the impact of the wolf, which had now scattered.
Layton stood back.
The wall tumbled down, dust flying everywhere.
Layton coughed, and looked. The concrete wall had crumbled, revealing three doors. Layton assumed he had to pick one door.
But which one?
He went up and inspected them closer.
On each door where the words, "Pick me!" And on each wall the words were printed differently.
On the first door, it was painted. On the second door, it was on a piece of paper, on the third wall it was…scratched.
"These sorts of scratches could only be made by something like fingernails." Layton remarked.
Deciding that was the door he had to go through, he went in.
A set of stairs were in front of him.
He walked up them.
As he did, the voice ran out.
"Well done Layton. You solved the first puzzle. But, what could I expect from somebody like you? Well, the next puzzle will meet you shortly."
As he said that, Layton came face to face with another door. He opened it and went in, looking around.
He was in a room full of mirrors.
