Hello my pretties. Me again!

So, Mark of Athena has five days to go until it comes out. I literally have no words for this. Only my mom won't drive me up to Paramus to go to Rick Riordan's book signing (it's only 65 miles…).

Well anyways, confession #3: If I had to equate the characters of The Four with characters from other things, it would be as follows – Adrian would be like Tack, Holly like Angel, Toby like Simon pre-vampire, Ib like a young Tessa, Garry like a cross between Iggy and Tamaki, and Cassia like a cross between Max and Clary. I apologize if some people don't know who these people are. And as you can see, I'm as big a book freak as a gamer, maybe bigger.

Thanks to everyone who's reviewed so far. You guys have been really reliable; kudos to all y'all! Plus, I am seriously surprised by the amount of fourteen and fifteen year olds on this site. I thought I was one of the only ones, especially going a gamer fiction.

Well, that's enough jibber-jabber from me. Here ya go! Chapter… 17? Yeah. I lost count for a second there. This is definately my favorite chapter so far. It's getting very Ib-esque now. Creepy… Ciao!

"Do you miss them?" Cassia broke the bubble of silence that separated her and Garry as they walked down the seemingly endless pink hall. The walls were lined with lacy white painted-on flowers and the pictures were of baby cats and puppies and toys. It was like they'd stepped into a child's playroom, which was eerie.

"Miss who?" Garry asked. His thumbs were in the pockets of his jeans and he was nervously fiddling with a thread sticking out from behind a rivet.

"Your parents," she said.

"I thought we'd been over this," he said.

"I need a distraction," she said quietly, her eyes not leaving the floor in front of her. "This place is starting to take its toll… besides, you only said you were upset when they didn't remember you."

"Okay," Garry gave a small, airy laugh. "Well, my mom was nice, and she had a really bubbly persona. She was a model when she was younger, but then she met my dad and… well, you know the rest. My dad was an architect, but he was really serious. Every now and again he would crack a joke, and his smile would make you melt."

"They sound like good people," Cassia said.

"Yeah, they were," Garry said, his expression sad. "But I don't miss them half as much as I miss her."

"Her?" Cassia was puzzled.

"My sister," he said with a grimace.

"You had a sister?" Cassia was shocked. "Does Ib know?"

"She does. She knows what she looks like from pictures I keep, but she's never met her, or my parents," Garry said. "She was like my best friend. I'm a little less than a year older then her. Right after my mom got me out of the oven, she started baking her up, so to say."

"What was she like?" Cassia was genuinely interested.

"Her name was Elizabeth, but I called her Elle. She looked like a spitting image of my mother," he said. "As you can see, I got a lot of my dad's traits. He was a real character. Who else would have hair like mine?"

"It's not THAT funny looking," Cassia insisted. "My uncle has green hair."

"Green hair?"

"It's completely possible."

"Clearly," he said. Suddenly, he stopped in his tracks, his head tilting upwards slightly. Cassia went back to him and looked at him strangely.

"Garry?" she said, but he shushed her and turned his head.

"I know that sound," he said.

"What sound? Garry, you're scaring me."

"Listen!" he hissed, and Cassia complied. The silence was thick, but she heard it now; a little shuffle, a sound like cloth on floor. It was scratchy, like old fabric, and it was small. The temperature dropped, Cassia could feel that much, and soon she could see her breath. Instinctively, she moved closer to Garry, who was trying not to look scared.

The sound grew closer behind them, and neither of them dared move. Cassia whispered, "What is that?"

Slowly they turned around. Cassia looked out, expecting to see a painting woman crawling towards her with her sharp claws or one of the statue ladies with no head and a bad case of bloodlust. But she saw none of those things. In fact, she saw nothing in front of her.

It wasn't until she looked down that she saw the little blue doll with red eyes and unruly hair staring up at her.

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Toby sprinted until his legs were ready to give out underneath of him. He breathed in shallow breaths, praying for the pain to stop, and as he leaned against the wall with quivering knees all he could think about was Holly. He made a promise to his mother to never let go of her hand. He wouldn't break that promise. The thought of his mother made his chest ache, and that wasn't only because of his lack of air. When he got out of there, he would find his mother. But right now he needed to find Holly. He had to, or he would never forgive himself.

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Adrian was alone, like he always had been since he was little. He gritted his teeth and forced himself to turn another corner. Again, another wall met his vision, and he cried out in frustration. Everything looks the same! He felt like tearing his hair out. All the while, he couldn't stop thinking about Cassia. He'd only known her a short time, but there was something about her that made Adrian long to know who she was. Did she feel the same way about him? He was sure of it, even if she tried to hide it, he could see. He'd seen so many girls do it before on his account. But he never felt like this about them. Focus, Adrian, he gave himself a mental slap in the face. If you get too distracted, you'll never see her again. You'll die in this godforsaken maze. Keep going. Keep going. Keep going…

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Ib didn't know what possessed her to run into the maze and lose her friends, but she knew where she needed to be. Everything seemed so familiar now. Everything was clicking. Falling into place. However you wish to say it. She turned another corner, and before her sitting on her pedestal was a red key. She ran over to it and grabbed it off the stone table. The metal was cold in her palm, but she had little time to revel in her success. She had a door to unlock and some friends to find… and maybe a few more keys.

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Pain… so much pain… Holly ran as fast as her small legs could carry her, the statue in hot pursuit. As she turned endless corners, her mind began to blur the lines between what was real and wasn't. As she heard the heavy but still swift footsteps of the statue behind her, tears streamed down her face. Suddenly, she began to hear other footsteps ahead of her; light, flitting footsteps, like that of a child's. A bell-like laugh rang through the walls, and as Holly turned another corner, she saw a swath of blonde hair whip around a corner, followed by incessant giggles. This can't be real… This can't be real… Help me, Toby… the room stated to spin and a red haze played at the ends of her vision. She felt like she couldn't breathe. The giggling grew louder. Where is it coming from? Then she tripped over her dress.

She crashed to the floor, skidding a bit. Scraped opened up on her arms and pain shot through her forehead. She tried to scramble up, but she felt a stony hand close around the back of her dress. She screamed at the top of her lungs as the hands tore at her skin, opening up more gashes. She scrambled to get away, but the hands of the statue left bruises whenever she struggled. She felt blood run down her arms and all she could so was claw and sob. With a r-r-r-ip, the hem of her dress tore away, and that little inch of fabric freed her from the grip of the statue. She practically fell again as she sprinted away, holding her arms and screaming. She heard the statue go in a different direction, and she practically cried in relief. She ran as far away from the thing as she could, and as soon as the heavy steps were out of earshot, she collapsed on the ground, the walls whooshing around her, massacring her mind with hallucinations. She felt the energy leave her body as she laid down, her mind on the brink of unconsciousness.

The last thing she saw before she slipped into the black, were two big blue eyes framed by golden hair leaning into her vision. The girl leaned over her with a wide, innocent grin. The last thing she heard?

"It's okay," the voice was like an angel's. "You're safe with me, Holly."

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Garry was petrified.

Completely and utterly petrified.

He grabbed the wall for support as he looked into the red eyes of the doll that seemed to mock him. Take me… TAKE ME… The memories pried at his subconscious until he thought his ears would bleed. Key... key… I need to find the key… it hurts… stop… red eyes…. Big red eyes… claws…. No. No, no, no, no, no, no, NO! He moved back a few steps, his face twisted into a horrified expression, and turned on his heel and booked down the hall.

Cassia didn't call after him or make a fuss, she simply followed him. Once he got to the end of the hall and turned the corner, his heart stopped. There the doll was again, staring him down. It had taken Garry almost six months to erase the mother doll from his dreams and longer for the scars to fade enough to stop wearing jackets over his arms even in the summer, and now everything was coming back to haunt him. He stopped, his lungs deflating and just stared at the doll as if to say, why me?

Cassia caught up to him, her bag swinging against her leg. She was looking at the doll, too.

"Do you know what this is?" she asked. Garry was glad she didn't ask what was wrong or why he had to get away from it, sparing him more hurt by explaining.

He simply needed to answer, "Yeah."

She nodded and said, "Let's keep going."

They walked past the doll and down the hall again. Once more, they were met by another blue doll. Garry was less frightened this time because he knew what this was leading to. Doll after doll after doll, always in their path. Until finally…

"There's something written on the wall," Cassia pointed to above the fourth doll they've seen.

She's right; above the doll's head there were the words:

GUESS WHO GAVE ME THIS PAINT?

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Ib couldn't unlock the door with her key. Frustrated, she jammed it in at all angles, pushing at the door with her heel and using it for leverage as she forced it in, but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't open it. She looked around, but the only way out was to retrace her steps. She groaned in frustration, but turned around and escaped back into the maze anyways. She needed to find another key.

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It seemed to be written in jagged letters, in dripping red paint. This is definitely NOT Belle's handwriting… Cassia looked closer and instinctively reached out and touched the wall. The paint came off on her fingers, but something wasn't right. It's thinner, and stained her fingers as it dripped off. Cassia shrieked and flung the substance off her fingers.

"Its blood!" she can barely breathe.

"That's impossible," Garry said, but as he looked at Cassia's fingertips, he knew she was right.

"Who's is this?" Cassia's voice trembled.

"It could be no one's. This place tampers with your mind," Garry tried to assure her, but Cassia would have nothing of it.

"Come on," Cassia moved along, not even waiting for Garry to comply. What if someone's hurt? Or worse? Cassia rushed down the hall, and meets another doll. This doll has another blood inscription above its head:

WILL YOU TAKE ME SOMEWHERE? WE CAN PAINT TOGETHER.

This one made Cassia shiver. She waited for Garry to catch up before they moved on to the next one. Garry seemed less shaken then before, which concerned Cassia. Had this happened before? She was now dying to have his knowledge of this place. They soon came across the sixth doll, and the writing was equally strange:

WHY DON'T YOU STOP?

Soon, they came around a corner, and there was a door at the end. The sight of it made Cassia want to throw up. The door was covered in dried blood, the writing still clear. The knob was drenched in blood, dried as well. Seated on the floor in the corner next to the door was the seventh doll. Or is it the same doll in the seventh place? Cassia wondered. The writing on the door stated:

JUST THIS ONCE.

Cassia forced herself to move her legs forward. Garry put a hand on her shoulder, as if to say, you don't have to. But Cassia knew she did. This was the only option. Her heart felt like it was going to burst with anticipation as she laid her hand on the blood-soaked doorknob. There was no going back. Whatever was behind the door was something they needed to see or do to get out. She turned the knob and pushed the door open.

The room inside was dimly lit. It was empty, devoid of any paintings or statues or monsters, and the floor was bare… save one thing. A small, blood stained body in the middle of the floor, in a pool of their own blood. The hem of her dress was ripped and she wasn't moving.

Cassia's eyes rolled back in her head and Garry caught her just before she fell.

"Holly…" she whispered before black immersed her vision.