Disclaimer: Me no own Ib... -tries not to cry- but I do own any poems or songs unless stated otherwise.

Note: There are some OCs, 'cause the Ib cast is very small.

"A picture is a secret about a secret, the more it tells you the less you know."

― Diane Arbus

Sequins twinkled from the depths of ocean blue, laughing with two faces; one bitter, the other divine. The macabre mask dotted with truth and lies in a frothy abyss fluxuate, fighting like gladiators of ancient times long ago. Whispering curls cast an umbrage, hiding the conflict from sight, another mask is crafted upon the other, one of bone deep sorrow, distrust, and loathing. A flutter here and there, they melt and meld together, forming one of surprise, mouth opened wide, large pools wide, and the surprise soon fades into choppy waves.

Garry was the first to break the silence, "You're Mary, right?"

The blonde twirled a piece of hair between her thumb and index finger, seeming to contemplate her answer before finally deciding on a small nod and a ghost of a smile, "Yeah, you're Garry, Ib's...friend, right?"

It was a statement, but Garry still nodded at the girl. She was rather short and looked very young, maybe ten or nine years old. Oddly, he found himself comparing her height to Ib's, as Ib barely reached his chest and Mary maybe reached his hip. He pushed the thoughts away and tried to escape the awkward silence that had encased them.

"We haven't figured out how to help you, but maybe if you could tell me some information a solution can be found," he looked down at her, trying to be earnest in his request, but really it was two-sided. He did want to help her but,on the other hand, she probably had valuable information about this place, which he and the others needed more of.

Mary had stopped twirling her hair, the strands now half twisted against her shoulder, and stared up at the lavanderette. Her neutral face split into a smile Garry thought was too happy. "Okay! Follow me!"

She spun on her heel and began to walk away, leaving Garry to follow her through the threshold. Their steps echoed off the tiles, making Garry nervous and fidgety. He shifted his eyes constantly, still very weary. He nearly screeched when Mary had suddenly stopped, causing him to bump into her.

"What's wrong?"

Mary stayed silent.

"Hey, are you-" Garry was cut off as Mary whirled around and began to pull him towards an ugly brown door. She kept ordering him to hurry as she pushed him inside and closed the door, the lock sliding into place behind her. Garry quickly glanced at the interior, realizing it was just another hall. Mary briskly walked in front of him, calling for him to hurry up.

They entered doors that lead to new hallways, into niches that connected to rooms, and finally stopped at two large white and black doors. The pattern was done in white, contrasting against the smooth granite. It depicted what looked to be a gate around the edges of the door while the inside looked like vines wrapping around something he couldn't make out.

Mary pushed the doors open and they entered a large space. The only light source were from the dim blue lanterns that casted an eerie glow upon a small dirt path. On either side are what looked to be bushes, but Garry couldn't be sure with such terrible lighting. He followed Mary through the path, nearly tripping over his own feet on many occasions. The lighting grew worse the farther they embarked, the lanterns nearly nonexistent. Oddly, Garry felt an overwhelming wave of sadness crash over him.

He looked around and saw that the bushes, or what he believed to be bushes, were steadily decreasing in height. From where he now stood, bad lighting and all, he thought he could make out a large black twisted shadow in the distance. The very shadowy thing fascinated him, making him stop all of a sudden so that he could gaze at it. His feet started off towards it, but just as he touched the hedge a black hand lashed out and grabbed him. Garry flipped out and threw himself backwards, wrenching his hand from the shadow one. He ended up doing a backwards somersault and stayed on the ground to catch his breath. He facepalmed, knowing that it would have been too easy if he could just walk across this silly maze-like space.

Mary looked back at Garry, pursing her lips in agitation. She stomped over, but kept a safe distance, "Let's go."

"Where are we going anyway?" He asked, sitting up and looking over at her.

Mary stayed silent. Her gaze was averted, staring at the black mass in the distance. Garry stayed seated, but he felt...off, like something was going to happen soon. He just didn't know who or what would cause it.

Still staring into the distance Mary began to speak, "Did you know that yellow roses have many different meanings? I do, there are a lot and sometimes I wonder just what they all mean. I thought yellow was a happy colour, but I wonder if it really is just bitter. I don't much like the colour anymore, it doesn't make me happy, it reminds me of something bad, a really terrible thing that hurt a lot."

"Do you really not remember what you did?" Mary's tone was angry as she glared at the lavenderette, tears wallowing in her eyes. "I hate you, Garry! I really really hate you!"

She covered her eyes, trying to wipe away the loud drops that cascaded down her face. Garry hadn't any idea as to what she was going on about, but the longer he stared the more it seemed that he could see something wrong about Mary. The lighting was so dim, yet he could see it clearly, all the things that were off.

Mary was...she isn't human. His mind screamed this at him, large red signs going off in his head that she was dangerous but...she looked so broken. Her dress, once a vibrant green, was frayed like it had been burned and her shoes had large black burn marks decorating them, and her white tights were yellowed. Wisps of blonde hair were damaged so that they were stiff and almost discoloured. Her face, on the left side, was cracked and started from her ear and spread to her temple and lower jaw. The right side started from her hairline and ran down vertically to her neck. It all nearly looked like creased paper, wrinkly and old, but then Garry's eyes played the ultimate trick and the girl in front of him caught on fire, her screams echoing in his head.

He blinked and it all disappeared. He didn't know what to make of this, any of it, but he had a feeling that he had done something. However, he had an underlying feeling that it was something he had to do. Perhaps...he was the one who had burned Mary, that would explain why she claims to hate him and, if he wasn't just crazy, why he could clearly visualize her being set on fire. His lighter felt abnormally warm in his pocket and he sighed, running a hand through his hair. He didn't get any of this!

"Mary, I don't remember anything. I know that's no excuse, but...I...please tell me...what I did."

Mary sniffled, all the anger leaving her after her fit. She now felt exhausted and looked at Garry, unsure if he was sincere. Yet, the remorseful and confused look on his face made her want to believe him. He looked so beat up and frustrated. She looked down at her hands, remembering the events at the gallery. It wasn't all his fault...she...she had tried to kill him. Mary knew she would have hurt them, but she was selfish and wanted to leave her cage. To do that, she had to off one of them and Ib was closer to her in age and she was nicer. They could have been best friends or even sisters! She hadn't seen anything in Garry, yet he only looked a few years older than the last time she saw him, but Ib was way older now, probably nearer to Garry's age.

How could this be? Garry and Ib had an age gap last time she met them...why did only Ib change so much? Could this be because...?

Mary's eyes lit up at the realization.

"We met before. You set my painting on fire and destroyed me." Mary bitterly stated. Hey, she could still be mad about being lit on fire! "Before you ask how I'm still alive, I'll tell you; all of his artwork is gathered in this place. You can call it the Gallery, but it has many names. This is the core of our existence, you might call it our home."

"Why here? Was your...creator from here?" Garry felt awkward when he spoke about creators to Mary as it made her seem inhuman...which she kinda was.

Mary nodded, "All of here came from one artists, our father. The reason our home is here is because this is where it rests."

"It?" Garry inquired.

Mary pointed to the large shadow in the distance, "That is the core of our home where it sleeps. This place here is the garden and is supposed to be full of colour, but, as you can see, it's overrun with thorns and there isn't any light."

"Why? What does this mean?"

Mary hesitated, "In the beginning, father was always obsessed with infusing himself into his works so that he could live on. He created it to house all of the life and energy that was infused into making us and also so that when outsiders such as yourself entered they would be swept up and either die or become like us, but different. For example, Kate was dragged here because she has been here before-"

"What?!" Garry yelled, leaning forwards in surprise. Mary nodded and sat down, her legs feeling tired.

"Yeah, Kate and some others were here long before you guys. That's why she was taken back here, she was a vessel."

"A vessel?" Garry could feel a pit growing in his stomach at the word.

Mary nodded solemnly, "A vessel that is meant for it. If you die here then your life energy is transferred to it."

"Why can't we just do something about this it, then?" Garry knew he was panicking, but he couldn't help himself. He felt like he was in some sci-fi or horror movie and he'd just been told that in order to survive he needed to inject himself with poison that should kill him and then jump across a canyon with a pogo stick. Well, maybe not that extreme, but it still was a lot to take in.

"You can't! It isn't bad! I knew it for a bit and they were really nice. It's just...it isn't awake anymore. After Father's death, it fell into a deep sleep!" Mary argued frantically. Garry was taken aback, but then shame crashed over him. His first thought had been to destroy the problem. He felt disgusted with himself for even thinking about destroying something. What if they were like Mary? She may be a painting, but she seemed pretty human...but should he even trust her?

He pondered this, weighing the pros and cons. Yet, he felt sick either way. Garry in no way trusted Mary, but he also didn't hate her. What had happened, happened. He couldn't do anything about his past actions but maybe he could turn things around this time.

'Mary, you said you're stuck here. right? Why would you say that if you belong here?" Garry was genuinely curious. Mary wasn't human, so wouldn't she feel safer around other non-humans.

"I may not be human like you and Ib, but that doesn't make me anything less! I want to be human, to live outside where you do, but I can't. In order to get out, I have to take someone's place. It's an exchange of energy. In order to give me a human body that would allow me to leave, an outsider would have to stay here and take my place until they die or...turn," Mary's frown deepened, "So, I'm stuck here."

"Why do you want to get out so bad, don't you...like it here?" The idea of liking anything about this place didn't sit well with Garry, but he felt the need to ask.

Mary shrugged, "Many of the others here once were like me, they didn't chase outsiders and try to get their roses, and sometimes they remain lucid, but when they see a rose they go ballistic. I don't know why, and neither do they, but I'm one of the rare ones who doesn't have this. It makes it hard to talk with them. I want to leave and make friends, eat food, and have fun with others. I don't want to be alone here anymore, especially with that thing here! He's taken over and picks on me, I really don't like him; he doesn't belong here. He's the reason Kate was taken!"

"Why did he take Kate? Who is he?"

Mary went silent for a long moment, "He is something that another Gallery made and he's not like the rest of us. He took Kate to keep it at bay so they won't wither. A couple of years ago, something happened to it and this world hasn't been too stable since. Sometimes, you can feel it trying to wake up, but he always stops it. None of us know what will happen when the time comes for it to awaken, but we fear our existence will disappear. I want to get out before then."

Garry remained quiet, processing everything in his head, but there were still bits he couldn't comprehend. Why does Mary refer to this core as it? How is any of this possible? How, if they are turned, are they different than the other occupants? What happened to it a few years ago? Why did Kate come to the Gallery? Who else was with her? Were they, the people who came with Kate, also in danger? What will happen once it wakes? The questions jostled around in his head, wanting answers that he had a feeling Mary wouldn't be able give. He had a feeling she was leaving things out, but didn't want to pry. He had enough to try and figure out at the moment.

"I don't know much about anything here or if we can help you find an alternative way out. What I do know is that we have to find Ib and Amelia, locate Kate if we can, and then return back to school to regroup. This way we can think up a strategy, but if you have any more information on Kate I need you to share it with me."

"Okay," Mary spoke softly before clearing her throat, "Kate is located in a tower under the chapel."

Garry tried not to be phased by just how a tower could be underneath a chapel when he nodded for her to continue.

"However, he governs that part so it's really hard to get to. Now, the chapel is located further down this road on the left side. However, there's a maze between the chapel and the path there. You shouldn't go there by yourself, we shouldn't be here now, come on."

Garry and Mary stood up and hurried down the path, taking a right when they came to the intersection. Garry cast one glance back at the entrance to the chapel's maze, feeling thankful that he knew where Kate was, but remorseful as he couldn't help her yet. His rose was running low on petals and he needed to make sure Ib and Amelia were alright. There also was the fact that Mary's warning kept echoing in his head.

Garry turned his head back around. His choice was made. Amelia might pester him for not going to help Kate, but he knew he wouldn't have been able to do it on his own. He made his decision to turn back and regroup, and he would just have to be content that he had gained some valuable information concerning this Gallery...and his own past.

AN: I decided to cut this short as it's a heavier chapter. I tried to make Mary's and Garry's interaction a touch awkward and full of misunderstandings, but I also wanted Mary to realize what she had done. Anyway, this chapter is really informative and you all can probably start making parallels with earlier chapters if you really wanted to. Also, I base most of this information off of my own speculations and thoughts, sometimes Ib confessions and theories, so it makes sense in my head. If confused, don't hesitate to PM me! I love questions, but I may end up changing my answer as the plot progresses.

I didn't have any reviews last chapter, so I'm a bit bummed out...besides from being sick, so please drop a review or a critique (No flames or general bashing that ends with it's just my opinion).