Chapter 6 - Inspiration and Ideas
George's breath caught as he stepped into the hidden room, his eyes widening at the sight before him. The large glass container in the centre of the room held a creature unlike anything he had ever seen. It dwarfed the oddities from Doctor Ivan's Museum, a place he once visited with Lisa, where her youthful curiosity matched his own sense of wonder.
The room's green hue gave the space an eerie, almost unnatural feel, as if the creature within had been the subject of some ghastly experiment. Moving closer, George studied the bird-like monstrosity, noting its lifeless form and the signs of taxidermy. The plaque beneath the container identified it as Gyps fulvus, commonly known as the Griffon Vulture—a creature notorious for its relentless hunger and indecision over what to devour first.
George's curiosity deepened as he examined the other creatures preserved in jars, each labelled with its origin:
- A wounded bird found in the mountains of Africa.
- A sick mouse hunted by the beasts in Europe.
- A healthy sewer rat ready to feast in Asia.
- A dead possum lies still in North America.
Intrigued, George lifted one of the smaller jars, only to hear the door behind him slam shut. Panic surged through him as he realised he was trapped. He rushed to the door, pounding on it with desperation.
"Shit!" he cursed, his fists hammering against the unyielding wood. "This can't be happening!"
The dim green light flickered ominously above him, casting long shadows across the room. George's mind raced, frantically searching for a way out. He turned his attention back to the vulture's inscription, the words about its indecisiveness gnawing at him. There had to be a clue in that riddle.
His thoughts drifted to the museum exhibit he had visited recently, where he had seen a similar bird. Did Doctor Spencer anticipate this? Was this all part of some elaborate test?
George's gaze fell on the jars once more, each containing a different animal in varying states of health and decay. The vulture was a scavenger, feasting on the dead and the weak. He realized the order of the jars might be the key to his escape.
With trembling hands, he placed the jars in what he hoped was the correct sequence: first the dead possum, then the sick mouse, followed by the wounded bird, and finally the healthy rat. For a moment, nothing happened. Then, with a faint click, the vulture statue slid backward, revealing a hidden compartment. A key with an Egyptian hieroglyph etched into its surface dropped into view, accompanied by the appearance of a narrow ladder leading down into darkness.
George coughed, his throat burning from the gas that had begun to fill the room. He grabbed the key and descended the ladder, escaping the toxic fumes.
At the bottom, he found himself in a narrow passageway. Without hesitation, he sprinted down the corridor, the walls closing in on him. He climbed another ladder, pushing aside a lightweight brick wall that revealed itself as a hidden passage. Emerging into the dining room from the fireplace, George took a moment to catch his breath, his heart still pounding from the near-death experience.
Yet, despite the danger, George felt a surge of exhilaration. The house was a puzzle, and he had just unlocked its first secret. He approached the blank canvas in the grand hall and began to etch a design in the corner, inspired by the symbols on the key. The encounter had rattled him, but it had also ignited a spark of curiosity—what other secrets lay hidden within these walls?
The dining hall was silent, save for the ticking of the grandfather clock. George's gaze fell on the armour-clad knight standing in the corner. The knight held a sword in its left hand, a shield in its right, and wore a helmet with an inscrutable expression. George glanced at the key he had found, considering how these symbols could be woven into the mansion's design.
"What else are you hiding, Doctor Spencer?" George muttered, his voice tinged with both frustration and fascination.
Leaving the dining room, he ventured into the west wing of the castle, his footsteps echoing in the empty halls. He reached the door to the music room and tried the handle, but it was locked. A musical note was etched into the wood, a clue perhaps, or another barrier.
Continuing down the hallway, he found an elevator that seemed to lead both up and down. The mansion was a labyrinth of possibilities, each twist and turn offering new challenges. George felt like Aladdin in the treasure-filled cave, navigating a world where each step could reveal a new wonder or trap.
Excitement coursed through him as he explored further, key in hand, ready to unlock whatever secrets the castle held.