The morning light that came through Arthur's room had a new kind of emptiness to it. Niamh was worried sick, having been sent home for two days in a row due to the new loss of her other brother. Owen was still unable to get up and move, leaving Liam to be the only one to be able to work. Even then, they were starting to run low on funds, and the apartment money was needed so that they wouldn't be evicted.

"There's still no word from the damn police…I can't believe…" The ginger paused, shaking her head before running her fingers through her hair again. "Arthur, where the hell could he have gone?" She muttered to herself, pacing back and forth between the kitchen and the living room.

"Just calm down, you're going to give yourself a stroke if you keep on doing that, Niamh. Seriously, just calm down and breathe. I know it's hard, but we'll get through all of this. They'll come home and—"

"Owen. How the hell are you not worried about this?! Our little brothers are fucking lost in the world, and you're telling me to calm down?!" She snapped loudly, stomping over to the dark haired sibling sitting in the reclining chair. "There's something wrong going on, and I need to calm down. Sure. That's absolutely what I'm going to do. I'm gonna calm the fuck down, and then I'm going to beat your ass into caring about your brothers."

"Niamh, please…I'm just as worried as you, but I'm not lashing out at everyone because of it." Owen had a point. The other night, she had yelled at Liam because he left the tub of butter out for a couple minutes more than it should have been. A few hours earlier, she was crying because her toenail was shaped oddly. It had been like that for so long, but she was so strained over the whole problem that she couldn't even funciton correctly and let the anger and fear out. "But…there is something weird going on."

"Besides the fact that everyone's gone?" She kept her pacing on, arms crossed over each other with a sigh.

"Yeah, there's more spiders wandering around. I had one crawling on my chest, and they aren't the nice ones. Black widows, Niamh. I think there's a horde of them in the apartment." This caught the other's attention, her flashing green eyes wide in horror.

"Ew. That's just…I need to contact the manager about this then…if we're seeing spiders like this…dangerous spiders, the whole complex needs to be treated." The phone wasn't too far away, but before she could get to the receiver, the phone crackled and rang through the speaker, garbling out a few words and bits of phrases.

"Nia…-hh. 'ere. …se." The words fizzled out, leaving the two to stare at the phone.

"What the fuck was that?"

"I have no idea, but that's like something out of a horror movie." Owen replied, moving his stare to Niamh. "We probably should go out to lunch. Lunch seems really good right about now."

"Owen, it's three in the afternoon." Another fragment of words came through the machine, jolting Niamh to get her coat and shoes. "Nevermind, lunch does seem really great right now, why don't we go to that Italian place you like? With the doughy pizza that I really hate."

"I've actually been craving that, so could you get my crutches and my one shoe? And I need a coat before that thing goes off again." Owen replied, trying to get out of the chair and onto one leg before the speaker made the crackling noise once again.

The outside weather was still chilly. It wasn't quite as warm as when Arthur left, so light jackets would probably be needed. "We'll have to call Liam and tell him that we're going out…maybe he'll tag along and we can pass the bill off to him. "…That phone is so fuckin creepy, though." Niamh said quietly, situating the crutches for her brother.

"Hey Niamh? You haven't been having weird dreams, have you?" Sure the question was sudden, but… "I've been having weird dreams about our parents. It's really weird. Starts out in a castle, then there's swirling lights and lots of dark spots…someone's talking in this weirdo language, and then it just kind of fades out when I wake up."

The elder sister looked at Owen like he was describing one of her dreams. "…Owen, that's really weird. Stop doing that weird thing, you know nobody likes it when you pretend to be psychic, because usually you're right." She muttered, watching as the Welshman slipped on his one shoe and got himself situated. "Seriously…just don't talk about it."

"Why not? You're been having it too, haven't you?"

"Owen, I didn't mean it like that. Shut up." Her tone started to get a bit sharper as he buggered on about it, opening the door just wide enough for him to barely get out. "Sure it's been happening, but I don't want to get into it." She growled lightly, following after when the other got out. "Our parents left us at an orphanage with that sweet Hungarian woman for a reason. We don't remember them because she said something traumatic happened, and it's all repressed."

"You really believe that?" Owen always wanted to know about what happened with their parents. He claimed that he remembered their mother so well that he drew her every once in a while when he had paper and a couple pencils. She looked so pretty, and so much like Niamh. Though Owen said that her hair was more so brunette than Niamh's reddish hue. "Out of all the things, you believe that little lie?"

"It's better than pretending to be parentless." She said quietly, no longer waiting for Owen as she walked along. "I'll meet you at the Italian place. Just walk by yourself."

"What the hell, sis? What. The hell." Owen couldn't really figure out what to do after that other than to resist the urge to throw his crutches and go back home with the creepy phone and the empty feeling in the house. But, he figured since Niamh was paying, he should probably go with her and get his nerves all straightened out so that it wasn't more hellish yelling and such when he got home with the other siblings.

While he hobbled down the way, Niamh would cut glances back at him to make sure he didn't fall over or get mugged or something. After five minutes of watching him crutch his way along, she eventually walked back to him and walked alongside the other. "I'm sorry I yelled at you. It just..."

"I know...they'll turn up. They have to eventually." Owen said quietly, sighing through his nose as he continued to move. "At least Liam is still around. I don't think we could lose him even if we wanted to, to be honest." That was honestly the truth—the ginger-haired youngest child was hard to get rid of. After many times of him saying he'd move out and leave them all alone, he never actually did, so they assumed he was there to stay.

"You think they'll get to Arthur and Alistair soon, wherever they are?"

"I'm sure they will."

oOoOoOoOo

It was a near-dumb idea to let Arthur go on his own. He had no clue how the upper floors of the house worked out, and of course, Matthew knew mostly which room was which...until the house switched everything up. The blond found himself slowly walking up the stairs, holding the aquamarine coloured ring in his palm, ready to wear it as soon as he needed to. The black walnut stairs were dusty, and his feet left small shoe marks as tread imprinted into the grime on the wood.

From the middle of the stairs, he could hear the faint sounds of sobbing in one of the rooms. It was...feminine? His stomach lurched forward, and so did he, running up the stairs as fast as he could to find the source of the sound. The doors at the top of the stairs were almost crooked now. Something...was distorted here. He figured he'd slip on the ring so that he could go and look through the doors undisturbed—not bothering anyone by being invisible, right? The first door on the left was his first choice. The door was plain, the knob was ornate, and there wasn't anything that would hint that it was a bad idea to see what it was. Opening up the door there were just...stairs. More stairs up to the attic. And it was quiet in the attic. There did seem to be a few cobwebs up there, but they were small. Arthur closed the door slowly, making sure it clicked shut.

The second door was familiar...was it someone's room? The sound of faint sobbing was a bit stronger in this one, but not enough to assume the sound was coming from this room. And then Arthur remembered—that was the door to Francis's room. The door was all too familiar, and he didn't want to mess with that one. The next door, however was Matthew's room. Slowly twisting the door knob, Arthur found a peculiar sight. There was a woman sitting on a stool with her hands on her lap, crying softly. There weren't any rings to be seen, but heavy cobwebs hung from the ceiling. Spider webs as thick as yarn hung from the ceiling, threatening to catch Arthur up in their long threads. He dare not say anything, keeping himself hidden. Slowly closing the door behind him, Arthur slowly stepped through the webs.

"Please don't let Francis be here..." Arthur pleaded, pursing his lips into a fine line when he looked up at the ceiling. Nothing. Just one big web with no bodies, no Francis. Continuing on with his trek along the spider webs, Arthur slowly made his way around to the woman. Her skirts were soaking wet. She had been crying for a while. The silken threads seemed to be connected to her, and if he dare move her, something would trigger one of the other threads. "You're kidding me." He didn't have the one fire ring right now, so he couldn't do anything. Washing away the webs wasn't an option...so he'd have to go back and look for the ring.

"Th-The ring...is by the matches...in the drawer." She said quietly, struggling to look up at Arthur. Her eyes were puffy and dark around the edges from lacking in sleep. "I can see you..." She whispered, putting her head back down. "B-But I can't...move from here."

"Why is that? Are you hurt at all?" Arthur knelt down to look at her face, minding the webs. One brushed up against his hand, and he suddenly realized why she couldn't move. The fingertips went numb first, then his whole palm and the back of his hand where it had touched. That was why.

"P-Paralyzed..." She said quietly, looking directly into Arthur's eyes. "C-Careful..."

"Don't worry, I've gotten this far...I'm not going to let this get in my way." Arthur was a bit cocky at the moment. Weaving his way to the desk with one numb hand. He kept his numb hand close to him, tucked in his vest for safety. The white desk itself wasn't too far away, but everything was wrapped in cobwebs. "Ugh... this is terrible..." He mumbled, stopping for a moment by the bedside, having made it a total of three feet from the woman. "Who are you, if you can answer?"

"Emm-mma." She sputtered out, catching another glance at Arthur. It was only that much, as her neck snapped back into place.

"Emma...someone is looking for you, Emma. Lilli and Feliks." He said quietly, taking a few more steps to the bedside, making it around the corner. There was a breeze in the room near the dresser and the desk. This was going to be a bit harder. He was almost thinking about saying 'fuck it' and running for the desk, quickly getting the ring and burning up all the webs. But...he had to remain calm and do what he needed to...go slow and steady...almost there... But another thread brushed up against the arm with the paralyzed hand, making the whole arm fall out of the vest, swinging loosely. "Shit."

"S-stop, before you get your other hand!" Emma hissed, continuing to look downward. "Don't you dare think about rushing in...just go slowly." She was still quite shaky sounding, but she sounded better. Maybe paralysis was wearing thin? But to Arthur, this was starting to sound like a bad X-Rated movie already. "Turn to your side, and use the narrower side of your body...and when you get the desk open...get that ring on your finger."

"Simple enough." The Briton nodded, doing as she instructed him to. It was easier to move this way because he didn't have to move his limp arm so much. This way, Arthur got closer and closer to the desk, just inches away from being able to grab the handle and yank the drawer out. He gingerly reached out his fingers and caught the knob between his index and middle fingers. "I've got the desk drawer!"

"Pull slowly! There might be something spring loaded in there, I'm not sure!" Emma replied, trying to look up at him. Once the webs were removed, this place would be a decent safe area until the two of them recovered.

But again, doing as Emma instructed, Arthur managed to pull the drawer out only to find the worst thing one could think of. Eyes. Staring at him widely with the pupil clouded over, there were so many eyeballs that he almost felt his stomach lurch and waver with disgust and overall horror. "Oh my god-" He'd still have to find the ring in the drawer of eyes and hopefully get out of there.

There was a sense of impending doom that started to lower from the ceiling; Like the feeling of getting to the top of a roller coaster and seeing the bottom has no more rails. It tempted Arthur to look up at the ceiling and he did. Spiders. "Oh shit...Oh shit oh shit." Thousands of them. And they were some that he recognized from when he was in high school. Black widows, brown recluse, hobo spiders...all of them were dangerous. Emma had no idea—her head was bowed.

"What's going on?" She asked, glancing up at him to see him suddenly rummaging through the drawer of eyes.

"Nothing! Stay there—I've almost got the ring...!" Arthur hissed, looking around. His shirt was touching the webs. If he weren't careful, he'd hit them and his arm wouldn't work just like the other one. Emma must have found out about the spiders. They were crawling across the floor, and her arms and legs were quivering, trying to move quickly away from them. There were so many—the walls looked like they were covered in black and brown spatters. "I'm going, I'm going!" He suddenly felt a bit of metal brush up against his fingertips, and he quickly pulled out the ring—the bright red stone shown at him, and in Arthur's eyes there was a light feeling of relief, but that came with Arthur falling backwards onto the bed. His back had touched, and that brought his core down behind him, and the spiders were nearing. He had to get that ring on his finger, but how? "Thumbs don't fail me now." Quickly and with as much effort as he could manage, Arthur tried to get the ring on his thumb. When he did, there was a bright flash of singing light, and soon enough...ashes. Fine grey ash was falling from the ceiling, scorch marks lined the walls, and Arthur's hair was smoldering. "...I did it."

The Briton's arm was still numb and useless, and he couldn't get up off the bed without his back feeling like a limp noodle. "...Emma?"

"I'm going to fall out of the chair."

"What?"

Th-thump. "That hurt more than it should have...ow." The blonde Belgian slowly tried to get up, succeeding just a little bit. She got up on the bed and lay on the ashen sheets, rubbing her face. "I've had a terrible itch on my arms...I thought I'd never get around to scratching it." She said quietly, looking at Arthur a bit curiously. "...Your eyebrow's burning." With a ginger touch, she put out the small ember flame, somewhat resting her hand on his face. "My hand can't move, so it's just going to rest here until you move it."

"Thanks for that, though I'm not too comfortable like this..." Arthur replied, quickly moving that hand off of his face. "...So you know the others are looking for you?"

"Of course I do. I've been here for a year. They've been here longer than I have, and then Alistair came along and—"

"He's still here? Do you know where he is?" Arthur cut her off a bit too soon and Emma didn't like that at all. So, she picked up her hand and dropped it on his face, more so slap-patting him. "You really didn't need to do that. I need to know where he is."

"I was going to tell you that, idiot." Emma huffed, staring him down. "Francis basically has him in time out. He can't do anything without that emerald ring you've got."

"Why does Francis want it, anyways? It's just an emerald, right?"

Emma stared at Arthur for a minute, pursing her lips into a thin and fine line. "I'm not surprised now why Alistair called you a dimwit." Again, she lifted her hand and patted his face, this time a bit harder. "I'll explain when I get to feeling a bit less numb."