Chapter 6

The 'thing' blocking their exit was a burly man dressed in a chef's outfit. A large blood stain was splattered down the left hand side. His face was also streaked in the sticky, crimson liquid. The chef stuck out his tongue and licked at the blood around his lips, seemingly savoring the taste. His steely blue eyes stared at the two shocked figures in front of him.

"W-w what are we going to do?" Charlie stammered. Her face had turned a pale white, and Scott could feel her shaking against him.

With his left hand he gently but firmly pushed Charlie behind him. In his right hand he grasped his laser pistol, aiming it at the chef's chest. "Stay back!" he ordered." I don't want to use this thing on you, but I will!"

The chef opened his mouth and let out a sinister laugh. The sheer force of it felt like an earthquake. "You fool!" the figure growled. "You can't kill me; how can you kill someone who isn't alive?"

Scott's eyes widened at that last statement. "How can you be dead? That's impossible!"

"Nothing here is impossible….Scott." The chef sneered even more when Scott started at the revelation that the man knew his name. "Tell me Scott, did you think that it was impossible to be dragged into a mirror?"

Scott didn't answer. He was still trying to get over the fact that he was talking to a dead man. A dead man covered in blood to make things worse. Behind him Charlie was clinging desperately to his uniform, and sobbing quietly with fright.

"I take it by your silence that you did think it was impossible, hmm? Well sorry but everything's possible here, as you're about to find out!" He raised his right hand, and Scott spotted a gleam of silver as a carving knife seemed to materialize out of the chef's sleeve.

The chef raised the knife and began to slowly stalk towards Scott and Charlie. Scott spun around, grabbing Charlie's wrist as he did so and ran into the centre of the kitchen.

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

The walls were closing in on them fast. Furniture was being shoved across the floor, and objects such as vases and artwork were toppling off the shelves and the walls.

"What are we going to do?" Alan cried desperately to Gordon. "We're going to be crushed!"

Gordon ran over to the door and tried to twist the handle, but it wouldn't budge; it was as if there was someone on the other side holding the door shut. "Alan, help me!" He motioned for his younger brother to and help him.

Alan grabbed the door knob as well, and together the two brothers tried to open the door and free themselves. They weren't having much luck though; Gordon could see that Alan was on the verge of having a panic attack.

"Alan you have to calm down," Gordon demanded. "We won't have a chance of getting out of here if you don't."

"What makes you think we're going to get out of here anyway?" Alan shouted. He began pounding his fists on the door and crying out, "help! Let us out! Virgil!"

Gordon dragged him away from the door. Around them the walls were getting closer, and Gordon had leap out of the way of a chair as it was pushed across the floor.

Alan wrenched himself away from his brother. "Gordon, what are you doing? We have to get out of here!"

"I know that! But shouting and screaming isn't going to help us."

Alan hung his head, "I wish Scott were here. He'd know what to do."

"Well he isn't, ok?" Gordon replied, "So we have to figure out how to get out of here ourselves."

Gordon looked around the room, and his eyes suddenly fell upon the bathroom door which was slowly coming closer to him. A recent memory suddenly opened in his mind.

"Hey Al, remember that Virgil kicked the door down in room1550?"

"Yeah," Alan said. "So?"

"Well remember how easily the door came away from the hinges because it was so old?" He raised his leg and began to kick at the door, hoping to punctuate his idea.

Realizing what his brother meant, Alan began to kick the door as well. The brothers gave quite sighs of relief as the door slowly started to give way. However the wall coming towards them from the right was slowly beginning to block the door.

Alan stepped back from the door and ran to the other end of the room. "Get out the way Gordon! I'm going to try and ram the door."

"Alan, that won't work. Virgil tried to do it before and all he got was a bruised shoulder."

But Alan, being the stubborn young man that he was, refused to listen and ran shoulder first towards the door. However just as he was about to come into contact with it, it opened. Alan stumbled out into the corridor and hit the opposite wall.

"What the?" was all Gordon could say as he helped Alan off the floor. He looked round to see who could have opened the door, but there was no one around.

"What happened?" Alan asked. "Someone must have opened the door; it wouldn't just open by itself."

"I don't know what happened," Gordon replied, "but after all the stuff that's happened to us so far nothing really surprises me anymore."

"I want to go home," Alan admitted quietly. "I hate this place; it's like we're in some sick life or death game, and to make things worse Scott's disappeared."

"But you remember what Skullington said? Scott's alive; he's just trapped in an opposite world…..what ever that is."

"What if Skullington was lying?" Alan asked. "How do you really know he's alive?"

Gordon shrugged his shoulders, "I don't know. But have this feeling that if he were dead we would know, deep inside. I also believe that you and especially Virgil feel it too, don't you?"

"I suppose so, but I just want to see him again."

Gordon grabbed Alan's wrist. "Come on, let's get out of here and find Virgil. I hate this place.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

They found Virgil up the corridor in room 1505, cautiously opening drawers.

"Virg, we found the key!" Gordon declared when they found him. "We can go down to the next floor!"

"That's great Gordo…..say, you two look a little pale, are you ok? Virgil asked concerned.

Gordon and Alan explained about what had happened in the room, and their strange escape.

"Are you guys ok now?"

"We're fine," Gordon reassured his older brother. "Let's just get down to the next floor, and find the other key."

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

"Come out; come out, wherever you are." The chef stalked through the grounds of the kitchen, looking for Scott and Charlie. "I promise I won't hurt you….I just want to slice you like an onion!"

"Scott, I'm scared," Charlie whispered from their hiding place inside the large pantry. "What if he finds us?"

"Don't worry," Scott reassured Charlie. "You'll be safe with me."

Suddenly the door flew open and the chef stood there, grinning menacingly. His knife glinted in the light.

"Did you really think that I wouldn't find you? This is my kitchen; I know every nook and cranny!" the chef gloated. "Now then, which one of you wants to be the first to be sliced and diced?

Scott grabbed his laser pistol out of his boot, and began shooting vigorously at the chef's head. He shouted at Charlie to make a run for it.

The force of the firing drove the chef backwards, and Scott watched in horror as his skull began split apart. Blood and bits of what Scott hoped wasn't the guy's brain, slid out and dropped onto the tiled floor.

Finally the chef gave him a small wink before dropping to knees, and then falling flat on his face.

Scott took several inhales of breath, trying to calm his nerves. He turned to see Charlie standing in the door. Her face was pale as if she was going to be sick, and she was shaking like a leaf.

He walked over to her and took her hand. "Come on, let's get out of here."

They started walking out the door. But they got no more than a few feet when from behind them came what sounded like bones creaking. Scott and Charlie turned around, their eyes widening at what they came to face.

Charlie screamed, and Scott felt his lunch coming back up.

In the corner of pantry, the chef had climbed back onto his knees. The bone creaking sound was his skull, which seemed to bulge inside his head as it healed. His skin in his forehead writhed and seemed to grow, recovering the gaping holes in his cranium.

He got shakily to his feet and smiled at the two of them. "See, Scotty? I told you you couldn't kill me!"

Scott raised his pistol and began shooting again, this time aiming at any and every part of his body. Once again the chef fell flat on his face.

"What did you do that for?" Charlie cried, "you know it won't work!"

Scott grabbed her hand and ran out of the pantry. On the outside he instructed Charlie to help him close the metal door.

"That won't hold him for long," Scott told her. "We better get away before he finds away out."

They turned and ran out the dining room back into reception. The room was still dark and dingy; the complete opposite of the world he had come from.

"We have to keep going!" Charlie insisted, "before he gets out and…."

But whatever she was about to say was cut off by another voice. It sounded incredibly soft, yet raspy, as if the person hadn't spoken for a long time.

Scott, despite the danger he had just been in, was curious as to where the voice was coming from. He instructed Charlie to stick behind him as he walked towards the area he thought it was coming from.

His path lead to a wooden door, just off to the side of the reception desk. Scott figured that it must go into a back office of some sort. He cautiously opened the door and walked in.

He was right; the room was an office. In front of him was an oak desk, similar to his fathers. A leather chair was positioned behind it, and sitting in the leather chair was….

"Mom?" Scott couldn't believe it. That couldn't be his mom; she was….dead.

Yet there she was, right in front of him. She was smiling at him the way he remembered.

Scott watched as she slowly rose out of her seat and walked towards him.

"Hello Scotty," she greeted him. "I have something for you."

"What is it Mom?"

"This!"

Lucille's tender smile transformed into an inhumane snarl, the likes of which Scott had never seen before. He watched in shock as his mother raised her hand and backhanded him hard across the face.

And there's chapter six. I deeply apologize for the delay, and thanks for the threat. I hope my cliffhanger this chapter is up to standard.