A/N: I've been debating when would be a good time to catch up with Garry's side of the story. I might just have him meet Ib and leave his story at that. After all, he basically went through the same sort of thing as her. However, I might have to write about how the Lady in Blue got a hold of his rose... Hey, if needs be I can go back and add more chapters in. Anyway.


IB

After I left that horrific image behind, I went to the other end of the hall, to the other door, ignoring the creepy hanging dolls. There was a password on the door. A green X, multiplied by a red X, and added to a purple X. I knew the last X was four, but what about the other two numbers? Perhaps they were to be found elsewhere. As I walked back along the corridor, I was startled once more as one of the dolls fell to the floor with a muffled thump. Tentatively, I went up to it, and, when it failed to move, I studied it closely. Embroidered on its woolen red jumper, in emerald green thread, was a number. 18. Hmm... That's the second number. Now where's the third?

It took me a while to find it. I wandered up and down the hallways, Studying each and every thing I could find. There was nothing else on any of the dolls, no more wall-writing was to be found, nor any more notes. I even went back into the dreaded liars' room, feeling sick at the sight, and then to the statue room, endeavouring to pull up another tile. All that did was send a dense cloud of purplish gas in my face, making me cough and retch as it burned my throat and eyes. I wasn't going to try that again. Going back to the pair of paintings, I studied them, too. The face had nothing for me but another cheeky grin, and a nice helping of the bluish goop, which hit my arm. I screamed as it began to burn my skin, wiping it away with my fingers, feeling them burn too. Wherever the liquid touched, it left a trail of red, raw skin and gross, inflated blisters oozing clear liquid. I couldn't help it. I threw up, tears stinging my eyes. What was this place, and why did it want to hurt me?!

Before I could let myself descend into another fit of hysteria, I took a deep breath and stood up, wiping my mouth and trying to ignore the pain of the blisters. Pulling myself together, I looked up at the blank painting, praying for an answer, so that I could get out of here, and fast. My prayers were answered. Earlier, I had overlooked a tiny number in the centre of the white canvas in red paint. A 9.

Now that I had all three numbers, I could open the door. I went back to it. If I used the three numbers I had found, it would be 18x9+4. Oh dear. Maths. I sat down, and began tracing images on the floor with my finger.

If I break up the 18... I can do ten times nine, then eight times nine. Ten nines are easy. That's 90. Eight nines... I counted back two nines from 90. 90... 81... 72! So then if I add them together... 90 plus 70 equals... 160. And then plus two. 162. And then another 4. 166. Let's try that.

I stood up again, and moved the number dials on the door so it said 166. Almost instantly, there was a click that signaled the unlocking of the door. I pulled it open.

The room was actually quite nice compared to the others. Beautifully sculpted trees were dotted around, and a single tree in the centre had a wooden apple hanging off of one of the branches. A painting adorned the wall opposite me, a beautiful mural of an apple on a branch, much like the sculpture in front of me. I wanted to just sit under one of the trees and rest in this small, seemingly safe haven for a while. No. I had to move on, and get out of this strange hell.

Reaching up, I took the wooden apple, plucking it easily from its perch in the delicate branches; the lips said they were hungry. Perhaps this would do. As I pocketed it, I took out my rose. It had 3 petals. I'd have to be careful. Leaving the orchard room, I returned to the lips, avoiding the second wall-hand that jumped out as I passed. I approached them carefully, taking out the wooden apple. Once again, they opened, and the white marble teeth had a red stain on where they had sunk into my finger.

"Hungry... Give food..." It seemed to notice the apple. "That food... Give to me..." Carefully, I reached out a hand, balancing the apple on my palm. The lips snatched up the wooden fruit, crunching it into splinters. I snatched my hand away. "That tasty... I let you pass now... Go through my mouth..." And the mouth stretched wide, wide enough to step through without too much trouble. I didn't really trust it, but there was nowhere else to go. The passage beyond was dark. I stepped though tentatively, avoiding the stained teeth, and moved on to the next trial.

This corridor was empty, but had a rather ominous painting of a guillotine hanging up. It unnerved me, but I walked past it, and down the hall. There were a series of almost identical paintings lining the wall, each with the viciously sharp-looking blade positioned a few inches higher. I swallowed, already anticipating what might happen. As I reached a painting where the blade was at the highest possible point, I stepped forwards very... very... carefully... And then sprinted back as I heard a whistling noise. Behind me, the ground shook and splintered underneath the massive weight of the stained guillotine that dropped from the high, dark ceiling. Thank god that thing had missed me, or I'd be done for... The sudden realisation of how imminent my death could be made my breath catch, but I brushed the thought aside before it could scare me too much.

As it retreated, I approached carefully once again. When it did not drop again, I quickly jumped over the crack left behind and ran down the staircase that lay beyond it.


Phew. Two chapters in one day! Think yourselves lucky. I'll be back when I can, but that's it for tonight, I think. I'm looking forward to this next bit though, which should motivate me ;) Cya!