The inside of the house was like being underwater. Walking through it felt like moving through soup. Just to be on the safe side, before the door shut all the way, she tried breathing. That worked fine. God, it was like being in a bad dream.
"Upstairs first, or downstairs first?" Adrien asked quietly, gesturing slowly towards the stairs to their left.
Marinette furrowed her brows as she thought. "You check upstairs, see if your staff moves slower to do that, though." She took out her yo-yo and tried swinging it as Chat extended his staff upstairs, just as quick as if he weren't in a haunted house.
"That felt weirder than usual, but it seems to work." He stage-whispered from the top of the stairs.
Her yo-yo moved quickly, but her arms sure didn't. She couldn't built up any velocity like that. "You check upstairs, I've got down here."
"Yes, Lady."
The front door had let her into the living and kitchen areas. Both were stained purpley-black, like an oil slick had spilled over the inside of the whole house. Tendrils wriggled over everything, lending solid objects a fuzzy quality, like they were too far away to see clearly despite being literally inches or feet away. Wherever she stepped, tendrils slithered out of the way.
The living area was a little cluttered, clearly lived in and well loved. Stained magazines adorned the side tables, kids' toys littered the carpet near the walls. Marinette smiled. Clearly the kids were being mindful of people who needed to walk along the carpet. There was a radiator that clearly hadn't been in use for years. The thing had folded laundry on top, and the valve was duct-taped over. There would be no turning that bit of technology on until it was removed.
She strolled towards the kitchen, painfully slow. Would they be able to fight the Akuma like this? She touched her yo-yo, useless without buildup. Well, useless as a grappling hook. She could think of other uses for it when the time came.
Everything was so quiet, she thought as she looked at the small kitchen. The fridge was well-stocked, the cabinets were fairly organized. Everything seemed fine. She was faced with the door to the master bedroom. It swirled with inky dark tendrils. She took a deep breath. There was an on-suite bathroom that she had to check as well.
She put her hand on the knob and turned it. It moved, but the door wouldn't open when she put her weight into it. She tried to shift her grip on the knob. Her hand was stuck. She frowned. Tugged. Turned the knob the other way. Tendrils rushed from the door to her hand, crawling up her arm with fuzzy feelings like a centipede crawling across her skin.
"Chat!" She shouted, fear nipping at her heart.
"Ladybug?" He called back.
"Chat, I'm stuck! The door-"
For the first time since they had entered, noises started up. She covered her ears with her free hand and a shoulder as the tendrils started screeching like babies in need of a diaper change. She blinked, but the tendrils were starting to cover her eyes.
"Ladybug!"
She barely heard Chat shout over the keening and screaming. She kept her free hand over her ear. Something, a smaller hand maybe, grabbed hers. She had thought she was still holding onto the door handle? Hushed voices started to take over as the screeching slowly died off. The small hands kept their grip on her wrist. It took a few moments of deep breaths to realize that she was crying.
"Are… Are you okay?" A gentle, fatherly voice asked in hushed tones.
Marinette looked up through watery eyes. A child, no older than ten, was gripping her hand with pale fingers. He had fair blonde hair and a soccer jersey. The father, or at least she had to assume he was the father, was sitting on the ground, legs thin and stick-like from disuse. He wore nice slacks and a pale blue button down that had once been tucked in.
She didn't see the other child, but a flushing toilet from the on-suite told her where they were.
The master bedroom itself had creamy white walls, a light blue carpet that had seen fluffier days, a double bed covered in striped white and gray sheets, and a dresser. The door near the bed opened, revealing the other child, who appeared to be a girl of about eight.
"I… I think so." She swiped her tears away, then felt her ears. Her earrings were in place. She sighed.
"I'm Michael, these are my children. Darius is the boy and Clementine is the girl." Michael gestured towards each child, then held his hand out for his daughter. She took it and was swept into a hug.
Marinette smiled at their affection. "Was it your wife who…" She looked around.
"My husband, actually." Michael corrected with a gentle smile.
Marinette nodded. "Sorry to assume, Michael. How long have you three been stuck here?"
Daniel answered this time. "About two hours. Papa…" He glanced at his father. "Dad and Papa had an argument this morning. Papa was fired."
Oh, no. "That's terrible, I'm so sorry."
Michael shook his head. "We thought it was going to happen to him. I think it was just… Just the way it happened. He was so sad, and…" He trailed off.
"It's not easy to lose a job when you have a family to look after." Marinette supplied.
Daniel nodded. "Everything went weird and Papa locked us in here."
"Was he trying to protect you?" She asked.
Daniel shrugged. Dad didn't think the phone was going to work, but it did for long enough."
Marinette nodded. "Does your husband have anything on him that is super personal to him? I need to know what to aim for to de-akumatize him."
Michael nodded and patted his daughter. "His father gave him this beautiful fountain pen on our first anniversary. He keeps it in his shirt pocket most days. It could also be his briefcase. That was our fifth anniversary present." He smiled and closed his eyes. "He was so excited to be an accountant."
Marinette stood up, surprisingly quickly after the mess the rest of the house was in. "Now we just need to get you three out of here."
Daniel took her hand again. "There's a tiny window in the bathroom! It's covered in those leech looking things, but Clem and I can fit through it."
She nodded and checked it out. With the light of the bathroom being normal, the tentacles just looked like ink that had bled into paper. Maybe it was the ink pen that was the object. She couldn't see anything out the window, though bright sunny light spilled through with no problems. She tapped at it with her hands, eliciting the same response as when she was outside looking in. There was just enough space for her to see that the bathroom was on the left hand side of the house. It was closer to the police cars. She turned to Daniel.
"Can you get your sister? I'm going to send you out first, then you can pull her to safety. Gently."
Daniel nodded and ran to get his sister. Clementine was crying when he came back. Michael was holding her and patting her back.
Marinette brought her eyebrows together in concern. "Is she okay?"
Michael nodded. "Just stressed out."
"Of course. I'm going to rig this open and make noise. If you make noise they wiggle away, okay?"
She hoped the children didn't warn the Akuma that they were there. Heck, she hoped he didn't know that she and Chat were there. It was highly unlikely, but-
"Alright, Daniel first." She had tied the window open with her yo-yo and set it to thump against the window; not unlike a metronome. She picked him up and helped him through. The wiggling tendrils turned blood red as soon as his feet were through the window. She tapped the yo-yo again, ignoring how each thud against the glass made her ears burn.
"Clementine, now."
She cried louder. Her father gently peeled her off of his chest and sent the girl through the window. Her brother, a very good brother, picked her up and carried her off. The tendrils started making a high pitched whine. Marinette looked at Michael. She wasn't fitting through that window either.
"Looks like we have to find a different way out."
"And quickly." He added, face losing color alarmingly fast. Marinette turned back towards the window, where the ink splotches were glowing brighter and brighter red. She grabbed her yo-yo. The window slammed shut and was immediately blocked out by the wriggling tendrils. Michael grabbed her arm. "Let's get out of here."
Marinette turned and ran into the bedroom, Michael on her heels. The bathroom turned dark. Stained black. The door slowly went grey, then creaked shut on it's own. The lock clicked into place. The doorknob turned so red it almost went white.
"I'm guessing we can't leave that way again." She whispered.
"Probably not." Michael returned. "Probably not."