She pocketed the fourth marble and turned around back through the caverns. She scrambled up a stack of crates and crawled out of the opening where the grate had been. She rode the elevator back to the general store and half-ran to the antechamber. She turned excitedly to the left door and pressed each of the four red marbles into their slots. There were two buttons, one on each side of the contraption. She pressed one and the top ring rotated, moving the marbles one position over. She pressed the other button and the bottom ring moved equally. I just have to move the marbles…I think there's a pattern… She pressed the buttons alternatingly, so as one yellow moved to the top, a blue moved to the bottom. After several rotations, the door swung open forcefully. She smiled at her handiwork and strode confidently forward. She wandered ahead into the cave, glowing lanterns hung from the rough stone ceiling. In front of her stood a rusted metal slide, a sandbox, a see-saw, and two buildings. The building closest to her was decked in flaking white paint and a sign reading 'Toys for Brats', the other an old fashioned bright red schoolhouse. Why Charles kidnapped these poor people and trapped their souls in his underground complex is a mystery I intend to solve! Hold on, what…? As she stood surveying the new area, two figures materialized before her; they were two girls, each wearing identical ruffled dresses, hair bows, and holding hands. She shivered fearfully. The girl on the left spoke.
"Have you seen our Mummy?" She had the same accent the Rose's spirit had.
"It's so dark and cold down here, and we miss her very much," the girl on the right added.
"I understand," Josephine said. "I saw her just a while ago, and she's sent me to go find you both!"
"Please, don't leave us alone here! Don't leave us with him! Don't make us stay with Father!" Charlotte whimpered, her voice quivering. And with that, both Gwen and Charlotte disappeared. Josephine sunk to her knees, breathing deeply. But he's not your father…You only think that because he's trapped you. A bone chilling numbness began to overtake her, and beads of cold sweat formed on the back of her neck. Doing her best to ignore this sensation, she stood up slowly and shakily, determined to continue the investigation.
"Don't worry," she said into the eerie silence. "I'll help you,"
She turned to the sandbox, more full of discarded toys and other junk than actual sand. After pawing through, the only useful item she found was a funnel. She continued on to 'Toys for Brats'. At first glance, it appeared innocent, sweet even, with every kind of toy a child could wish for. Upon closer inspection, she noticed tags bearing information such as 'Made with 100% Asbestos' and 'Top-Quality Lead Paint'. A sputtering light was mounted over a display case of various dolls. She peered at the figures and could almost swear that some of them blinked as see grabbed an old fuse out of one of their hands. She pocketed the fuse and went into a back room where she found numerous dolls, puppets, and other toys in the process of being built or repaired. All of the chipped paint, blank eyes, and smiling stares made her skin crawl. She crossed the room to closer examine a desk, covered in strange mechanical tools, wood shavings, scraps of cloth, and jars of paint which had been left open to dry into hard lumps. She picked up a hammer and tucked it into her satchel. She turned around and saw a wall-mounted dial phone. She stood in front of it, staring the contraption down as if expecting it to speak to her; she dialed a number, though a hiss and a low crackle told her that the wire had been severed. She tried a door covered in chipped brown paint near the phone. She rattled the loose knob a few times and even dealt a few well-aimed kicks at the frame work, though the ingress simply wouldn't budge. She sighed in frustration and lightly blew a loose strand of hair from her face. She turned and tried another door on her other side. This one luckily opened with ease and led her down a narrow staircase to what looked to be a basement. Several large barrels dripped a disgusting liquid into several pools forming on the dusty ground. A dead mouse was laying stiffly in a corner behind some boxes, and a pathetic looking teddy bear was chained to the wall next to the window. She walked toward it, careful not to step in any of the slimy looking puddles, and prodded its middle. To her shock, she felt a hard lump, as if someone had stuffed something inside the plush toy. She reached for her bag, though there was nothing useful for dissecting a stuffed animal. She glanced to the barred window and noted the side of the schoolhouse (which she had yet to explore); more importantly, she noted a cellar door on the side of the building. Turning aside (and nearly knocking her head against one of the several low-hanging lanterns), she approached an oddly shaped lump beneath a dingy white sheet. Josephine jerked it off with both hands, sending a cloud of dust directly into her sinuses. After recovering from her sudden sneeze attack, she saw what the thing had been: a 'Whack a Troll' game. This looks fun. She took up the mallet and shifted the shining red lever forward. Immediately, several trolls, each painted with a sneer, poked their heads up from a series of holes on the board. She smacked at one and missed it. She whacked another, pounding it with the mallet. She score board lit up with the number five. She hit another, this one colored purple. The score increased. Eventually, a loud metallic clang sounded, startling her. The board changed to display Game Over! Play Again! 100 Points to WIN! She tried again, this time reaching a score of sixty five. On her third try, she reached the target. A coin slid out of one of the trolls' mouths. She tucked it away for safe keeping. As she came back to the foot of the stairs, she saw a box mounted on the wall labeled in faded scrawl Telephone. It was crawling in large, shiny, brown roaches. She backed up, cringing. She bolted up the stairs and back out to the playground. She advanced to the schoolhouse's cellar door she had seen from the basement. 400° was scratched into the wood, along with another odd locking mechanism. This one was a metal plate with a circle of round buttons on it. She pressed one; it remained depressed. She pressed again; it released. Surely there's a pattern I need to find. It probably has to do with 400°. She wandered in circles around the schoolhouse until deciding the next best course of action was to try the front door. She ascended the creaky wooden steps and tentatively opened the door. Inside it was too dark to make out anything but the silhouettes of a few desks and something crouching in the back corner. She fumbled in the dark for a light switch. Great. I bet the light switch is in the cellar. She grunted and meandered back to the toy shop. She realized for the first time that there was a stove with a pipe crawling up through the ceiling in a darkened corner. Excited, she ran to it and crouched to examine. On the top was a circle of burners in the same configuration as the cellar lock. She smiled, anticipation mounting. She reached for one of the handles for temperature control jutting out of the side. As her fingers grazed the metal, she gasped in pain. The handles were red hot! She cradled her hand and nursed her burnt fingers. Luckily, it seemed that the burn would not be particularly dangerous. She marched back out to the playground and looked to where a tunnel led. Warm light emanated from just ahead of her. She tried futilely to brush some of the mud off of her pants and came towards what looked exactly like the gingerbread house from Hansel and Gretel, though with a few ominous details added. Inedible lollypops as tall as fence posts stuck out of the ground, the windows looked as though they were made of colored sugar, and sugar coated spice drops lined a pathway to the entrance. A large frowning gingerbread man stood leaned against a mailbox whose door read POST in what looked like white icing. She opened it and pulled out its contents, a newspaper clipping.

Sommerset Funeral Mass Held
An open-coffin funeral mass was held today at the home of Reginald Sommerset of 649 South Shore for his wife, Rose Sommerset and daughters, Gwendolyn and Charlotte Sommerset. The three individuals have been missing since August 6, 1895 in one of the most peculiar cases that Blackpool authorities have ever seen. A stoic Mr. Sommerset delivered the eulogy and stressed that the ceremonial burial will bring great relief to family members who have longed for closure in this tragic matter.

Josephine was appalled. She shoved the clip back into the mail box furiously and more than a bit alarmed. She turned around and took a deep breath in through her nose, concentrating on the damp, earthy smell of the cavern. Directly in front of her was a sign, attached to a candy cane-striped post. Perched atop it was a garishly painted clown, wearing a smirk.

Eight Simple Rules for the Incarceration of my Twin Daughters:

ABSOLUTELY NO OUTSIDE COMMUNICATION!

Don't touch Daddy's locks, you little creeps

Children will remain inside when not working on the Device

Keep the noise down because Daddy has a headache and works long hours

I built you a giant doll house, go play in it

Escape is overrated

No broccoli until you finish the cauliflower

The beating of your hearts only fuels my essence

It reminded her of the Standard Procedure posted in Roseville, but more aggressive. Obviously, the only reasons for Gwen and Charlotte's imprisonment was for the Device, whatever that was supposed to be. She wandered up the gingerbread-paved walkway. The door was, as she had expected, sealed. This device consisted of four overlapping wooden disks, which, when aligned correctly, formed and image. The challenge was to rotate the disks into alignment; each time one disk spun a full rotation, one might go halfway in the opposite direction while another might only shift a quarter in the same direction. After a while of ponderously attempting to form a picture of a gloomy faced boy in a sailor suit, the door swung open so forcefully that it sent tremors through the walls. She slowly stepped inside. Despite the saccharine exterior, the interior of the house was relatively close to what one would expect of a playroom for girls of Charlotte and Gwendolyn's ages; an odd collection of dolls and animals sat around a set tea table, each wearing some sort of bonnet, crown, or ribbon. Some of the tea party guests included a rooster hitched to a pram, a partially decapitated teddy bear wearing a top hat, and a periwinkle colored rabbit whose eyes had been replaced by a pair of jingle bells. From the ceiling hung shackles, spikes, and pitchforks. They were eerily similar to the ones in the General Store, though a bit smaller. She stared up at the ghastly monstrosities in horror. In the fireplace was a roaring fire. It seemed odd, though, considering that everything in the house was draped in heavy cobwebs and the dust was so think that Josephine had left footprints on her way in. I wonder who lit that fire…perhaps the mysterious person who I had heard upstairs? She scanned the table and selected a woven potholder from underneath the teapot. A low, indistinct noise sounded from around the corner and down a hallway. She froze, terrified. What if that someone is still here? What if it's Charles? She stood up a bit straighter.
"Hello?" she called out, her voice shaking slightly. She rounded the corner with the painful kind of slowness that comes from being too cautious. An electric light buzzed overhead, letting of a steady, pale light. A door stood opposite, covered in nicks and scratches. Holes had been torn out of the walls and various messages, mostly Help us! and Let us go!, had been gouged into the baseboard and floor. In crayon, a particular space in the wall was labeled Kitty's House.
"Psst, over here!" Josephine whirled around. Behind her, beginning to appear once again, were the ethereal spirits of Gwen and Charlotte.
"You must be mindful of Father," began Charlotte.
"We mustn't tamper with the locks or we may be punished again," added Gwen with a small shiver. "We must remember that we are tied to him forever, so he may continue to be free!"
"Please, free us from him!" Just as they had before, the ghosts faded away.