“Well, yeah,” Halfrieda said matter-of-factly. “Whatcha think ol’ Edgar was?”
The color drained from my face. “I—h-he’s not wearing a costume?”
Halfrieda’s excitement fell, and she relaxed her face into a neutral expression, carefully placing the rabbit back into its enclosure. We watched it hop across the straw toward its siblings, disappearing inside the large pile of fluffy, white fur.
“Let’s go,” she whispered. “We really shouldn’t be here, and I ain’t one for gettin’ caught.”
She almost sounded like she was in a trance of some sort—her eyes were settled on something in the distance and her voice sounded haunted. Before I could reply, something pulled my attention to the far end of the room. There was one more curtain, one more area we hadn’t yet investigated. One more chance to find answers.
“Last one,” I promised. “That’s the last room.”
“Bindi… ”
“I have to see what’s ahead,” I insisted. “I just... I have to.”
Halfrieda’s expression was impossible to read—I couldn’t tell if she was irritated with me or indifferent. Eventually, she stepped past me and reached the curtain first. I followed suit, relieved she’d decided to stay with me. I didn’t know why, but I had this weird feeling that this wasn’t the sort of place I wanted to be alone.
“Bindi?” Halfrieda’s voice faded into the background and I spun around, straining to see what was behind me in the murky darkness of The Menagerie. All I saw though was the slight shifting of the animals, most of them lost to their slumber. Goosebumps ran up my arms.
I glanced over my shoulder, Halfrieda raised a questioning brow and her concern was evident in her eyes. “Y-Yeah, sorry. I’m coming.” Inhaling a shaky breath, I started toward the curtain once more, ignoring all the sounds and sensations shifting behind me. “It’s all in my head,” I muttered softly. “All in my head.”
My heart froze in my chest as I pushed past the curtain. To my utter disappointment, this door was clearly locked and when I tested the padlock, I found it was fastened tight. No mistakes here.
Hmm…
There was no doubt in my mind that this was The Dark Room, and, furthermore, something was driving me—demanding I get inside. Not really sure exactly what I was doing, I searched the area immediately surrounding me until I noticed a few papers connected to one of the cages. The paper on top explained the daily food requirements of the horned rabbits and I noticed checkmarks, no doubt left each time after they were fed. But I wasn’t interested in the papers. I was, however, interested in the paper clip that fastened them together. Reaching for it, I opened it up and then turned to the padlock.
I’d never picked a lock before, but I’d read plenty of instances where famous characters like Sherlock Holmes did just that. So, I attempted it and shoved the paper clip into the padlock. Then I shifted it around, wiggling it this way and that.
“Oh, Bindi, what in the world are you doin’?” Halfrieda moaned.
“I’m trying to find out what’s in there.”
“Well, there’s a reason it’s locked up tight, I bet.”
The lock popped open a second or so later, and I grabbed the lever and opened the door. Then I glanced over my shoulder and smiled at Halfrieda, who mumbled something unintelligible as she frowned at me.
The interior of the room was mostly pitch-black, save for some pinpricks of red light that were visible above the display cases. Dread raced through my body as soon as I stepped foot inside the room.
Hundreds, maybe thousands, of eyes were staring at me. Eyes! Bright red and yellow eyes that glowed unnaturally.
As my vision eventually adjusted to the dim lighting, I realized the eyes belonged to nothing more than lifeless dolls. I nearly fell to my knees with relief as I took in their vacant expressions. Some were made of wax, others sewn from cloth or even carved out of wood. One, in particular, caught my eye. Dressed in a lacy black petticoat, its bright red hair was pulled back into a loose bun. The freckled face and bright green eyes evoked a distant memory that seemed to appear out of nowhere. The doll seemed… familiar somehow, for however impossible that was. And yet… there was something about the eyes, about the curve of the lips, the shape of the cheeks.
And the position in which the doll sat made her look off-balance. As if she’d been hastily tossed there.
“Whatcha see, Bindi?” Halfrieda asked.
I stepped forward, my legs still a bit weak, and gestured for her to follow me. “They’re all just dolls,” I whispered back.
Halfrieda’s voice cracked as she pointed to one of the figurines ahead. “What about that one? What’s that look like to you?”
I followed her finger, biting back a gasp. The doll’s face was torn in half and one eye was glazed over with reddish light. Beside it, a collection of shrunken heads dangled from a string that slowly pirouetted from the ceiling. A death mobile of sorts.
“Aw, hell no,” Halfrieda hissed, shaking her head. “I’m outta here.”
Before I could even try to persuade her otherwise, the creaking floorboards drew my attention. Whipping my head around to look over my shoulder, a brief flash of light illuminated Halfrieda’s figure before blinding me when she vanished behind the curtain.
“Oh…” I turned from Halfrieda and swallowed loudly while trying to suppress my panic because as I turned back to face the room full of dolls, I realized that every one of them was now facing me. Their bodies were as they had been, but their heads were all swiveled around and facing my direction.