The room was lit by a series of kerosene lamps stationed on mahogany desks, cut glass coffee tables and marble mantelpieces. A fire joined the glow, burning behind its ornate iron grate. There was a heavy smell of varnish on the air – almost intoxicating as it mingled with the vase of roses.
Some of the furniture was huddled to the side, pushed out of the way to make space for a central table covered in soft layers of bedding. Ashley shifted on top of it. The pillow supporting her head smelt like her mother's coat.
Eventually her eyes opened, catching a glimpse of the firelight playing over the ceiling. She waited for the inevitable stab of pain to hit her forehead but it never came. Her body was numb, trying to move she realised that nothing but her eyes would respond.
Her heart picked up a few beats as she took a more careful look at the roof above. It was painted a shade of green her mother wouldn't touch with a shorn off shotgun which meant that she wasn't at home. Ashley breathed again, confirming her mother's scent.
Concentrate Ashley, she instructed herself. Don't panic, you're not dead yet. Now where the hell are you? Closing her eyes she tried to remember the last thing that had happened.
A length of unravelling rope – sand creatures closing in underneath – her stomach turning...
A door closing to her right snapped her out of it. Ashley kept her eyes shut and pretended to be asleep as something bumbled about the room, tinkering with the lamps.
Minutes passed until the footsteps walked straight toward her and came to a stop. She kept her breathing steady but couldn't stop the occasional twitch of her eyelids.
"Almost lost you there for a moment," a deep, warm voice said. It belonged to a gentle looking man who walked off in the direction of a solid-looking desk behind her head. Its edges were handcrafted while its centre was inlaid with green leather. "I know that you are awake," he continued. "No use pretending, young lady."
Ashley opened her eyes to a brightened room. "I can't move," she stated, almost accusingly.
Although she couldn't see it, the man smiled and retrieved a pair of spectacles from his desk drawer, stopping to skim through a few loose sheets of paper.
"You should be thrilled to be alive," he replied, dipping a gold nib into a pot of ink before scratching across one of the pages. He gave one of them a small nod. "The state you were left in, even I'm surprised and let me reassure you – I'm not easily surprised. The things I've seen - " he sighed and trailed off.
Ashley felt helpless, unable to move or see anything other than a small patch of ceiling.
"Now," the old man said, grinding his chair over the floorboards, "have you got a name? Or shall I continue to refer to you as, 'curious'?"
He tottered into view, leaning over her. His appearance made her smile, though she couldn't place why.
"Ashley," she offered, blinking as he waved a heavily creased hand over her eyes.
"Well, Miss Ashley, you'll have to wait until that dose I gave you wears. Your movement will return in time so too, I suspect, will some of the pain. In the meantime, why don't you explain to me what you were doing left in a crumpled heap on my front step?"
*~*~*
"I thought that you said this would be easy..."
Helen closed her eyes, inhaling deeply as she had taught herself. The action calmed her enough to respond to her winging accomplices.
"Will, have you ever known me to use the word, 'easy'?"
Will re-adjusted his grip on the stunning stick that she had thrown at him on their way here. "Yes," he replied.
"And what happened then?"
"Total carnage," Henry filled in. "What – we're talking about the snake thing right? Why are you all looking at me – is there some law against talking now? If there is you're going to have to start issuing memo-upd-"
Helen reached across Will and covered Henry's mouth with her hand, combining it with a stern glare. Will, now hemmed in, peered into the dark room in front. He could hear something scratching around.
"Ah..." he mumbled, hoping the others would follow.
What he could hear was a three-legged abnormal ripping its way through Helen's lounge room curtains. Nicknamed, 'Pain' mainly due to its numerous irritating escape rampages, it had been a resident of the Sanctuary for many decades.
"Not my good curtains..." whispered Helen, releasing Henry and shuffling closer into the room. The clawed fur-ball was busy tearing its way between the folds of fabric.
She'd purposely plunged the manor into darkness to confuse the abnormals let loose by John. Usually it made them disoriented and easier to catch. It also made Will prone to falling over objects and landing splattered over the floor like some work of modern art.
"He's not going for the cage..." Henry sighed, as Helen poked her nose around the corner, tranquiliser gun raised.
The ripping stopped and was replaced by a patter of tiny feet across the floor. Helen sharpened her eyes, trying to pick the creature out from the darkness. The group jumped at a loud 'click' followed by a sizeable clatter as the cage door snapped shut.
"Or maybe..." Henry clicked his flashlight on and ventured into the room. "We got it!" he yelped excitedly, as his light trailed over the cage now full of fur.
"Henry, would you just wait. We've talked about this!" muttered Helen, cocking her weapon before following. Will raised his stick and did the same.
"He's kind of cute when he's all locked up – aren't you?" Henry tapped the edge of the cage as Helen flipped the lights back on. The curtains, as she had feared, were reduced to shredded strips of fabric.
"Don't play with him – he's not a pet. He is a form of human being."
"Speak for yourself," retorted Henry. Half the time he felt like another one of her pets.
The scruffy pile of fur had two sharp eyes and stood upright in the cage, feeding its spindly arms through the trap trying to pick at the cage lock. It knew what it was doing and, given enough time, would be out and free to continue its rein of terror.
"Come on," said Helen, retrieving the cage. "We'll put Pain back and leave SAM where he is. Ashley can deal with him when she gets back.
Pain rattled the bars, chirping loudly. Helen shushed it with such force that it cowered into a corner.
Will fell into step beside her as they travelled down the hallway. "Wait, who's SAM?"
"Subterranean Animal Menace. By now he's probably nesting in the attic."
"We're just going to leave him there? I thought that these were high security creatures?"
Will looked worried, Helen could tell by the way he gripped his stun stick. If he gripped it any harder he'd stun himself.
"He won't be dangerous until he starts looking for a mate which won't be for – two weeks?" she looked at Henry for confirmation. He shrugged. That sounded about right. "Besides, I want to take a look at our new guest before he – it, whatever, wakes up."
Henry broke away from the party and headed off back to his office to try and raise Bigfoot's camp. There was no answer from the man himself but he did manage to catch a woman at the campsite. The line was riddled with static but he heard her say that there were strong winds in the area interfering with communications and that she would continue trying to reach the party and call him back with any news. Henry wanted to leave it there. It had been a long day, for everyone, but his stomach had been sinking all afternoon.
*~*~*
"Feeling better I imagine," the doctor helped Ashley take her seat at the desk. He had been right about the pain returning. Apparently in this place you got a choice between mobility and comfort. The choice was simple for Helen Magnus's daughter.
"I can walk, if that's what you mean." Her eyes tracked over the room. What was absent was far more interesting than what was present. No computer, light bulbs or powerpoint's of any kind. There was not even so much as a pen in sight. The sounds of the world outside the glass windows were different too. It was quiet except for the occasional rap of what sounded like hooves.
She shook her head, there was no way that -
"Are you alright, my dear?" The doctor leant forward in concern with eyes that seemed so familiar. "You shall have to remain here this evening. It is my professional opinion that you are not in any condition to wander about and if my suspicions are correct, you're not from around here."
Ashley wondered what had led him to that conclusion until she noted the differences between their attire. His jacket was an olive green, tapered in around the chest where it was buttoned up to a silk neck tie, held in place by a delicate gold clip.
"Who are you?" she asked. If she didn't know better, Ashley thought that she might be on the set of an historical English drama. Indeed, the doctor sounded an awful lot like –
"Doctor Magnus," he smiled, "but you can call me 'Gregory' if you like."