Admittedly this is the morning after I said that I would post it. But SQL had other ideas.

I wanted to try and add some horror elements in as the game itself did whilst not going too overboard, as well as some elements of strife between Garry and Mary. After all, would you trust Mary after you remembered she was possibly a psychopath who tried to kill you?As always let me know what you think.


Art enlightens us all. It is a medium through which infinite possibilities lay – a means for man to portray his greatest thoughts and grandest adventures and give others a powerful glimpse into his mind. Great art is timeless – a thing of beauty. And in the many years to follow, though my body may be gone, I hope that I shall live on…through my work. - Excerpt from Guertenas Memoirs.

The water dripped slowly down the wall, creating a small pool at Marys' feet.
"This place is exactly as I remember it…" muttered Garry, finishing the last of his meal.
He and Mary were sitting with their backs against the wall in, unbeknownst to them, the very same corridor that Ib had found herself in when she had entered the fake gallery – having a small packed lunch which Garry had prepared for them.
"Not my finest work…" said Garry, trying to lighten the mood as Mary sat in silence, looking ill at ease.
"It was fine…" responded Mary in a distant voice as Garry threw the foil wrappers into the pitch black hole that had been their entrance.

Garry frowned but decided to not pursue whatever was troubling her, and instead focused his attention upon the map before him - a huge A1 sheet of paper which had been skilfully created by Garry, under Marys' instruction, upon one of Garry's' many graphical suites.
"So we are here…" Garry muttered to himself, focusing his attention upon a small room in the top left hand side of the sheet, "And…Damn this is complicated…"
Despite Garry's best efforts the map was still something of a mess; with lines and one-way arrows linking structures upon opposite ends. He gave it a rough jolt before laying it out on the floor.
"We should head here…" Mary said, pointing a finger at one of the rooms near the center of the map, "It's the…most likely place…"
Garry pondered this for a moment but quickly dismissed the idea with a wave of his hand.
"But-"
Mary began to protest but Garry held a hand for silence.
"We have been over this" he said, "I agree it is the most likely…"
Mary leaned forward and nodded seriously.
"But…it is a very long way" Garry said, "And if we have to backtrack…"
He let his voice trail off, having already tried to create a route to the room he had found that it would take no less than two days of solid walking.
"Even if we run into nothing…" Garry suppressed a shudder as he remembered the Lady in Red, "If we have to go back upon ourselves we will run out of supplies…or worse…"
Mary frowned, remembering that their time here was limited.

"What if the exhibit ends before we get out…" Mary asked warily, finally asking the question that had been bothering her.
As she had expected Garry's expression tightened.
"It won't" he said.
"But if it does…?"
"No idea" Garry said bluntly, pretending to pour over the map so that he didn't have to look at her, "If they put it in storage or…split it up…I don't know what happens…"
"Well…there are far more works of art here than there are in the real gallery…" Mary said.
"But do we have to jump through any of those…" Garry replied, "Say it's…wrapped up in storage on a plane, sitting in a box in a warehouse…what then?"

Mary didn't want to think about the possibility.

"Then we have…four days…" Mary muttered despondently, "That's not enough time to sweep the entire gallery! We might not reach her…we should-"
"If we do it your way we cover less than a tenth of the gallery. If we go about this systematically we can cover at least half" Garry stated, shaking the now folded map for emphasis.
"But if that little bit is where she is more likely to be-"
"We are not discussing this" snapped Garry.
Mary recoiled, surprised to see him shouting at her for the first time since…
"Sorry" muttered Garry, as Mary turned from him.
"Hey" he said, catching her shoulder and twisting her to face him, "Really…I am…"
Mary nodded and waited, sensing that he wished to continue.
"My route will still take us to the room you wanted to search…but it ensures that we reach the Fabricated World with some time to spare, even if we run into trouble. Do you understand just how important that is?"
Mary stared at the wall, her mouth pressed in a hard line.
"Yes…." She said at last.
Garry heaved a sigh and rose to his feet.
"Now...Let's go save Ib!" he said, trying to sound enthusiastic.

Unfortunately, Mary saw through the charade easily.

"We go left" Mary said, pausing as she came to an intersection where the hallway split both ways.
A half step behind her Garry did the same, looking a little confused.
"There is no left on the map" Garry said, shooting Mary an odd glance.
"It's just one room…" Mary said, "And there was nowhere to put it on the map!"
Garry cricked his neck, a little fatigued from the two hours they had spent walking, before motioning for Mary to follow him as he headed left down the short corridor to the single door.
"What the hell is this…?" Garry asked after opening the door cautiously, his eyes darting around the mostly featureless room that lay behind it.

A large portrait of a woman, smiling happily, stood at the opposite end of the small room, her hands folded above the delicate looking vase standing upon the sole piece of furniture in the room – a battered old table.

"We have to take those…" Mary said slowly, pointing at the pair of roses jutting out of the vase.
"Like hell we do" snorted Garry, looking as though he would like nothing better to bolt out of the room at that very instant, were it not for the fact that Mary was edging towards the vase.
"Hey" he cautioned, catching Marys' arm, "It's far safer to leave those things here out of the way"
"When we head right down that hallway, there's another door. It won't open unless we have the roses…" Mary replied.
"You didn't tell me that before" Garry said sharply, tugging Mary backwards as she attempted to walk forward.
"I thought you knew…." Mary muttered, giving him a look of surprise as her eyes flickered from Garry's grip upon her arm to his eyes and back again.
"The time we spent planning is meaningless if you miss out the details!" Garry retorted angrily, "And-"
Garry opened his mouth to continue but caught himself, shutting it again he released his hold, walked swiftly to the vase, and grabbed the roses before returning to Mary's side without a backwards glance.
"You know better than I after all" he said bluntly, all but shoving the rose into her hands, "But be careful with it…" he said a little more gently as he strode past her, walking back to the door.

"Thanks…" Mary muttered, tucking the yellow flower into her breast pocket, and trying her best to avoid the thought of the last time he had touched the small yellow flower.

"This time it's not a fake…" Garry muttered, likely on the same train of thought as her as he twisted the door handle.

"What the…" Garry muttered, twisting the brass handle again, and then again, "It's jammed…"
Mary watched Garry fumble with the handle for several seconds - his efforts growing increasingly more forceful – he was practically throwing his weight against the wooden frame now.
"Blasted thing!" Garry shouted, releasing the handle to wipe a hand across his brow before continuing his efforts.

Feeling increasingly more ill at ease with each passing moment, Mary couldn't help but feel that she was being watched.

"For HEAVENS SAKE!"
Gary's voice faded into the background as Mary felt an increasing urge to turn around.
It's nothing. It's nothing... she chanted to herself, trying her best to remain calm.
Mary's resolve lasted less than five seconds before she had to turn around.

GIVE IT BACK THIEF.

The words were scrawled across the foot of the frame. The red paint was slowly dripping down it, covering the table and floor.

"Garry…"
Mary tried to say, however all that came out was a tiny squeak which Garry did not hear, focused as he was upon the door.
"Garry…." Mary whispered, grasping the air behind her as she attempted trying to tug upon his sleeve without losing sight of the woman – who was now slowly dragging herself forth from the frame.

"Ga-"

The candles flickered out. Plunging the room into darkness.

"What the hell!?" shouted Garry as another crash sounded, "Ugh…"

"GARRY!"

Finally breaking the grip of terror upon her, Mary tried to make sense of the darkness as the sounds of scuffling grew nearer.
"STOP! PLEASE!" Mary screamed.
The scuffling was less than a meter away now.
"It's me!" Mary shouted, holding her hands up in front of her, "It's Mary. Do you remember me?!"
There was a single click before the sound stopped. A moment later the candles flickered back to life, basking the room in a gloomy glow once more.

Kneeling upon the floor, Mary caught her breath.

"Are…you ok?" she asked, turning from the portrait, which was now back in its original position – smiling happily once more.
"What happened? What was that?"
Ignoring Mary's question and firing off two of his own – Garry lurched to his feet - massaging his shoulder. Apparently he had tried to force it open and injured himself – causing the cry she had heard.
"The lady in red…" muttered Mary.
Garry turned round to stare, transfixed, at the painting - his face white.
"You're ok?" he asked at last, his lips barely moving.
Mary nodded, before stepping past him and turning the door knob.
"It's open…" she announced hollowly as the door creaked outwards.
Garry didn't hesitate before pulling Mary through the door; slamming it swiftly shut behind them
"Right…" he said, his face pale as he alternated between staring at the wall and at Mary, the whole time breathing heavily, "Let's…yeah…"
Noting Garry's rigid posture, Mary nodded, trying to push what had just happened to the back of her mind as they set off once more.

Less than a minute later they reached the door at the other end of the hallway and, in response to a brief nod from Mary, Garry opened the door slowly.
"So this is the way Ib came through huh?" Garry muttered to himself as he stepped into the oddly shaped room, breaking the protracted silence and casting a wary eye about himself as he did so, "Hey!"
Mary had just stepped into the room when Garry spun around – catching the door he slipped a thick scrap of paper into the frame so as to stop it closing fully.
"We don't…want a repeat…" he said in response to Mary's unspoken question.
Stepping forwards to stand beside him Mary looked about the room for herself.

It was much the same as she remembered all of gallery looked, poorly lit and oppressive. However it seemed worse than she remembered it, the walls caked in dust and the paint peeling, even the candles burned lower, though in the time she had been there Mary never remembered them changing.
"I guess this is where the gallery really begins" Garry said, strolling over to the nearby painting and giving it a courtesy glance, "Charming…" he muttered offhandedly.
It seemed to Mary that Garry was doing his best to act as though nothing had happened, though to someone who knew him as well as she did it was obvious he was shaken.

Deciding to give him a little while to recover, Mary wandered over to the painting as Garry moved onto the next. It was a simple one, an ant, nothing more, entitled 'Nature Part One'. Mary decided she didn't like it in the least.

"We should probably keep moving" she urged, partly as time was precious and partly because, just as it was in the previous room, this one gave Mary a sharp sense of unease.
"You're right" Garry agreed, passing by her and poking his head around the corner, "Humpth. Beware the sides…how nice of them to tell us"
Mary continued along the portraits, in the first the ant was climbing along a fine thread, in the second, the ant was no longer moving, it seemed stuck, in the third another creature was approaching along the web and in the fourth, a great spider was devouring the ant whole.

Mary grimaced, she didn't remember there being any such work here before.

"Garry…something's…off…" Mary called as she walked over to where Garry stood positioning himself carefully in the middle of the corridor, "It's different than I remember it"
"It's been a long time…and I doubt you would remember every little detail anyway" Garry responded, edging forwards cautiously.

"KRRRR"

The hand shot out from the wall, stopping just short of Garry's outstretched leg.
"Ah!" Garry exclaimed in surprise, despite being forewarned.
Mary shook her head a little at his less than courageous display before returning to her thoughts.
I definitely haven't seen that before…I would remember wouldn't I? So the painting must have changed itself…Why would that happen? No...that doesn't matter. What matters is...if one thing has changed...other things might have changed too…

"Garry…be extra careful…" Mary said, looking at the outstretched black claw with mild disgust, "I think the traps might have-"

"KRRRR"

This time the hand ripped through the floor directly in the centre of the room, giving Garry no time to react.

"AARGH!" exclaimed Garry once more, though this time in pain.
Reflexively jerking his leg back Garry lost balance and fell sideways into the wall, a moment later another hand emerged, this time aiming for his neck.

It never made contact.

Mary, who had charged forwards, slammed into it, pushing the claw backwards into the wall where it gave a sickening crunch before going limp, a black liquid pouring from it.
"I…I…got it…" Mary said in a weak voice, staring down at the injured Garry.
There was a deep tear in the fabric of his trousers, and an alarming amount of blood coming from the wound in Garry's leg.
"We need to get out of here!" Mary urged, "Here, give me your hand!"
Thrusting her hand out Mary waited for Garry to take hold.

Garry grabbed it wordlessly and, using the wall for support, hauled himself into a precarious looking standing position.
"Come, I'll help!"
With Mary half supporting Garry, the pair made their way slowly backwards out of the way of the grasping claws.
Upon reaching the door which still held the scrap of paper the pair paused, Mary letting go of Garry who slid slowly down the wall, groaning a little.
"Thanks..." he muttered, looking up at Mary rather than his wound.

Mary made no response. Her mind a whir as one thought reverberated in her head again and again. The rules of the gallery had changed. It was not simply trying to scare intruders anymore.

It was more hostile than it had ever been. And it was most certainly trying to kill them...