Chapter 2

He started to back out when he suddenly started feeling nauseous, but he was stopped. Something was blocking his way. He turned around and froze when he saw that there was nothing behind him but a wall. The nausea was now gone, but it was quickly replaced by fear. Wasn't this the way he came in? He started feeling the wall, trying to see if maybe there was a secret button or panel he needed to push, anything to cause an opening to appear, but there was nothing. It was just a wall. He turned behind him, and stared down the dark hallway, nervousness building a fierce knot in his stomach. Something told him he shouldn't be here. He looked behind him again, confirming that his way in, or rather, his way out, was now blocked. Seeing that he had no other option, he slowly turned and started trudging down the hallway.

As he walked, he looked around and found to his surprise that there were paintings hung on the walls; the very same ones that were in the gallery. Because he was preoccupied with the paintings, he was caught off guard when he ran right into a small table that was in the middle of the hallway. The resulting crash absolutely terrified him, and he quickly shrank against the wall, scared that someone would storm down the hallway and get him in trouble for knocking it over. Yet no one came. He slowly got back up and looked at what exactly he had knocked over. The table was on its side, and the contents that were on its top were now scattered on the floor: an orange rose amidst shards of what appeared to have been a vase. Curious, he reached down and picked up the rose to see that it was indeed real. He couldn't leave it here to wilt and die, so he decided to take it with him to see if he could find another vase to put it in and tucked it in his pocket. He paused and glanced down at the pieces of the broken vase, and started brushing them towards the wall with his shoe so no one else could fall on them and get hurt, then moved the table to the wall as well. This being done, he continued on his way, even finding the occasional new painting on the walls that would cause him to stop and stare for a few minutes, then continue again.

He stopped for what must have been the fifth or sixth time, but this time it was out of confusion. There was a painting on the floor, just like the one that he had entered through. He felt hope start to rise in his chest, and hurried over to the painting, only to have disappointment quickly take over. It didn't show the gallery; it was just the Lady in Red painting that he had already seen before. Even so, he put his hand on it. It didn't go through. He sighed, then realized something. Her eyes had moved. They were staring at his hand. He froze, staring at the painting. Had he imagined it? ...He had to, paintings couldn't-

He screamed when she suddenly grabbed for his hand, viciously hissing. He tried to back away, but she had a firm grip, and he only pulled her with him. She started to claw her way up his arm, and she swiped at the rose that was sticking out of his pocket, causing a petal to fall off. He inhaled sharply as pain burst down his side. She must've hit him when she attacked the rose. She let go of his arm and jumped down to the floor. Seeing his chance, he backed away and started running, but quickly increasing pain slowed him down. How could she hurt him? She wasn't close to him now, right? He looked behind him to make sure, and he was right; she was a short distance behind him, tearing at the orange rose. It must have fallen out of his pocket when she attacked. After a moment, he realized that each new burst of pain was synchronized with each petal falling off of the rose. Were they connected? If they were, he didn't have much more time to find out. There weren't that many petals left. He ran forward and kicked her, adrenaline giving extra strength to his kick, knocking her away from the rose, then picked it up and started running down the hallway, frantically looking and calling out for somebody, anybody who could help him. Nobody answered, and nobody came. He looked behind him to see that the Lady in Red was somehow still close behind him, dragging herself and the frame forward using her arms. He cried out, startled, when he tripped and fell. He dropped the rose again, and he hurriedly grabbed it, then tried to get back up. His legs refused to cooperate though, and he ended up scuttling into a corner, curling into a ball, and waiting. But nothing happened. He peeked up right as a voice called out.

"Geez, Red, what did you find this time?" The painting was no longer facing him, but had turned its attention down the hallway. "Oh my…" Adam looked over to see a tall man with a long blue coat in front of him, surprise obvious on his face. He crouched down to Adam's level. "Are you… Could you be... someone from the gallery?" Adam nodded. After a short moment, the man gestured to the painting. "I'm sorry that Red scared you. But I'm glad to see that you're okay." He wasn't sure he could trust this man that apparently knew the painting. The man looked down and saw that Adam was holding a rose. He reached in his coat pocket, and Adam attempted to scoot further into the corner, afraid of what he might pull out, but then gasped when he produced a blue rose. The man smiled warmly. "My name is Garry. What's yours?"

Adam didn't answer for a moment. His mother had warned him about talking to strangers… But this man named Garry was the first person he had encountered in quite a while, and he seemed to know what was going on. He decided to answer the question. "A-Adam… Where am I? I thought I was in the gallery, but…" He looked uncomfortably at the Lady in Red, who was just sitting on the floor, playing with her hair.

"Simply put, you're in the world where the paintings live. I can't quite explain myself how or why it even exists, but it's here." Garry stood up and offered Adam his hand. He took it cautiously, making sure that he kept the head of his rose hidden in his hand; he didn't trust that the Lady in Red wouldn't suddenly attack him while he was getting up. He still wasn't entirely convinced that he could trust Garry, either. Garry seemed to notice Adam's distrust of his painted companion as he explained: "The paintings know me. If you're with me, you're safe. She won't hurt you." Adam hesitated, then slowly revealed his almost destroyed rose, and Garry's eyes widened. "We need to get your rose to a vase!" He turned away. "There's one this way. Follow me."

"I'm assuming that since you hid your rose when I found you, you know how important it is?" Adam nodded as he walked with Garry. "But do you know exactly what it is?" Adam's head shook. "The rose represents your life here. As I'm sure you figured out, as your rose loses its petals, wounds appear on your body. And when your rose loses all of its petals…" Garry shook his head. "You don't want to lose all of your petals."

Adam looked up at Garry curiously. "Why roses?"

Garry was silent for a moment, then replied, "Well, there is a piece called 'Embodiment of Spirit' which is a giant rose sculpture. In this world, most of Guertena's works are given life in one way or another. I think these roses are the way that it was given life, if that makes sense. It works with its title, anyway." Garry stopped. "Here it is." In front of them, up against the wall, there was a small table that had a vase filled with water on it. "If you find a vase with water in it, you can put your rose in it and it'll heal it." He looked at Adam, who seemed to be hesitating. "Go on, put your rose in." Adam put his rose in the vase, and gasped as the rose's petals grew back instantly. "Feel better?" Adam nodded, wide-eyed. Garry smiled at the amazement on Adam's face, but his smile soon faded as long-forgotten memories were dredged up in his mind. Memories of a different child. A child that he made a promise to.

"Garry?" He snapped out of his daydreaming and looked down to see Adam staring up at him.

"Hm? Sorry… I was just thinking. What did you want?"

Adam looked worried as he asked, "How do I get back to the gallery? The way that I came through… I tried to go back, but there was a wall, and…"

"Hmm. That sounds very similar to how I got here. I followed a passage and the wall closed behind me as well. After that, I ran into…" Garry paused when he realized he started to go on a tangent, and answered the boy's question. "...There's only one way out that I know of…" It had closed on him last time, but there was a chance that it would open again since Adam was here. It was worth a shot, at the very least. He had discovered after who-knows-how-long that it was indeed the only exit. But it refused to open for him again, and if what the other works in the twisted gallery said was to be trusted, it never would. For him. But now there was another piece in the equation: Adam. He looked down at the boy, his long-forgotten determination slowly returning. "And I know exactly how to get there."

Garry soon learned that Adam was quite the opposite of Ib. Whereas Ib had been a very quiet child, Adam would not stop asking questions. He kept asking about the names of paintings and why they were painted and what they were and how old was that sculpture? Garry answered them all as best he could, which was actually fairly well. With as long as he had been here, he managed to learn quite a bit about the world of Guertena. Garry suddenly realized he didn't know exactly how long he had been among Guertena's works. As soon as there was a lull in Adam's inquiries, he cleared his throat. Adam looked up at him.

"Um, Adam… This might sound like a weird question, but… What year is it?" Adam stopped, apparently shocked. Garry wasn't surprised. If he was in Adam's situation, he'd have been shocked too.

"You… don't know what year it is…?" Garry, somewhat embarrassed, shook his head. "How long have you been here…?"

"That's what I'm trying to find out. I don't know exactly how long I've been here… I just know it's been a long time."

Adam paused before answering, "It's 2019."

Now it was Garry's turn to be shocked. When he first came in, it had been 2012. It had been… "...seven years."

"Seven years?! You've been here that long?" Adam's eyes were open wide. "Am I gonna be here that long? What if I'm here longer than that? I don't wanna be stuck here the rest of my life!"

Garry sighed. "Trust me, it is possible to get out." At least, he hoped it was possible. But he didn't want to tell Adam that there was a chance it wouldn't open for him. He didn't want to imagine how he'd react.

Adam became quiet for a minute, leaving them both in rare silence, then spoke up. "If it's possible to get out, why did you stay here for seven years?"

Garry glanced away. "It's… complicated." He looked down the hallway. "C'mon, let's get going." He started walking, making sure that Adam was behind him. He decided that he shouldn't mention that it was even possible for the exit to close at all, and that meant not telling him about Ib. Which was fine, because after a couple minutes, Adam began asking questions about the various works again, none of which had anything to do with her. He inwardly sighed and accepted that he would most likely spend the next little while answering every possible question about the gallery and its works. He supposed there was an upside to it: at least this time he knew the way, as opposed to having to solve puzzles and attempt to navigate mazes and such, taking several hours. Even so, this version of the gallery was fairly large; he estimated that it would take at least half an hour to get to the exit. He realized that Adam was looking expectantly at him; he hadn't answered any of Adam's questions. Seeing that there was no escaping it, he took a deep breath and began talking.

After a while, Adam ran out of breath. He fell silent as Garry finished answering his last question, and when he finished, he didn't ask another one. He couldn't ask anything else; he was too tired. Garry must have found the silence uncomfortable as he soon asked Adam if he was feeling alright.

"Yeah, I'm fine... I'm just tired."

Garry stopped, and Adam followed suit. "I'm not surprised… We've been doing a lot of walking. Do you want to rest? I can keep watch if you want." Adam nodded, trying to keep his eyes open. "You look like you're about to fall asleep on your feet… There's a room up ahead that we can rest in. Can you stay awake that long?" Adam shook his head. He wanted to lay down right where he was and take a nap. "Alright, here." Garry bent down and picked Adam up, and continued walking. Adam found that it was actually comfortable, and before he knew it, his eyes shut tight and he fell asleep.