We’re going to be continuing the story in a monthly format alongside our general updates on the project. We couldn’t cut you off too soon! If you need to catch up or don't remember what was happening in the story, you can find the whole thing here! We'll be back in a few days with our monthly update and a vote on what will happen next, so drop your suggestions in the comments!

You chose to try to save the stranger stealthily. Will it work? Only one way to find out…

The Rescue

You back away from the door as silently as you can. You’ve heard stories about mothers who have lifted cars off their children and other impossible feats, but hoping for a miracle to beat these two masked people is a surefire way to end up alongside the woman. No, there’s got to be some way to distract them safely.

You hurry to the next door and peer inside. It’s a nearly identical room to the first, even down to the chaise. The third room is the same. Okay, you know what you’re working with now. How should you…

A pained cry from the woman. You don’t know what they’re doing to her, but you’re out of time. You duck across the hall to a fourth room and grab the first thing you can get your hands on–a large vase. It’s heavier than you expected, but with adrenaline coursing through your body, you heft it and manage to toss it across the hall into one of the empty rooms. It makes a horrible clatter, and you barely have time to duck out of sight before footsteps sound.

“What was that?”

“I don’t know. No one else is supposed to be back here.”

You hold your breath as they walk into the empty room and then you sprint to the first room and shut the door. As you’d hoped, there’s a lock here. You flip it and turn to find the woman sitting up and blinking blearily at you. “Who are you?”

“I’m here to help.” You hope. There was no time to come up with a real plan, and now you’re locked in here together and the masked pair absolutely know someone is meddling. In desperation, you search for another way out of the room. Like the other rooms you saw, there are no windows and no other doors. You’re trapped. 

Perhaps you should have thought this through before acting, but there simply wasn’t time. You’re no hero, but you’re also not monster enough to stand by while someone else is harmed. You cross to the woman and help steady her. “What’s your name?”

“Savannah.” She jumps at the sound of someone pounding on the door. “I shouldn’t be here.”

“That makes two of us.” You try very hard not to flinch as the pounding on the door becomes more pronounced. The pair aren’t shouting, which somehow makes it more disconcerting. You shudder. “Surely there’s like a secret passageway or something out of here.”

Savannah blinks. “Do you think that’s likely?”

“No.” You flinch when the pounding on the door simply…stops. Somehow, the sudden silence is so much worse than the alternative. Are they standing out there, listening? Surely they haven’t left. That would be too easy. You press on more of the stone wall, but it feels exactly what it looks like–immoveable stone. You’re well and truly trapped. Damn it. “Why are you here?”

She presses her fingers to her temple. “I don’t really remember. I got an invitation to a party, and I accepted but…” She starts to shake. “I don’t remember leaving my apartment. Or anything before you ran in here and shut the door. Was I drugged?”

“I don’t know.” Drugs seem terribly mundane after everything you’ve witnessed. You might be able to write it off as some kind of questionable party that you absolutely weren’t invited to if not for the clear evidence of magic in the gown you’re wearing that you most definitely didn’t change into. All you did was put on a mask. But if you tell this stranger that she might have been influenced by magic… Well, you’d sound as wild as this situation currently is.

The door seems to gain a new weight. There’s no other way to explain it. Your gaze is drawn to it, magnetic and so heavy your legs shake. Something new is on the other side of the door, and it’s hungry.

Before your eyes, the lock twists and the door eases open. On the other side, darkness reigns, the shadows so deep, you only get the suggestion of broad shoulders and a tall form before he speaks. “You’re not where you’re supposed to be, Savannah.”

She jolts. “What?” The word comes slow and strange, as if she speaks on the other side of a long tunnel.

A hand extends into the room. It defies logic that you can see his hand so clearly but can’t see his face. “Come.”

You reach for Savannah, but somehow she’s already on the other side of the room and slipping her hand into the man’s. Is it Bluebeard? He sounds a little like Bluebeard, but his voice is deeper, more dangerous. “Savannah, don’t go with him,” you say.

“It’s fine.” She steps into the dark without looking back. 

You haven’t come this far to let her be led to her doom–again–so you rush after her. The first step into the shadows feels like wading through waist-deep water. You grit your teeth and keep going. There were only a couple steps from one side of the hallway to the other. You have to catch Savannah. 

Except, you take those few steps and don’t encounter the wall. You frown and hold your hands out, wary of walking into something, but you take another dozen steps without encountering anything. Did you get turned around? The hall wasn’t that long. Even if you somehow turned one way or another, you should have come to the end of it by now.

“You’re not where you’re supposed to be, either.” The words come from directly behind you.

You spin, arms still outstretched. “Who are you?”

“I could ask you the same question.” There’s a new rumble to the words, deep and forbidding. “Every person who accepted my invitation is accounted for, and yet here you stand, clearly an interloper.”

“Interloper,” you repeat. Who talks like that? You never should have come to this place. The amount of money in question might be life-changing, but you have to survive long enough to have your life changed. “Where is Savannah?”

“Where she needs to be.” 

You still can’t quite see him. It’s Bluebeard, though. It has to be. “I would like to see her.”

“I’ll consider it.” He seems closer, that sensation of falling while standing up hitting you again, as if he contains his own personal gravitational pull. “First, you will tell me who you are and how you came to be here. Now.”

You bite your bottom lip, considering how to answer him–or if you should answer him at all. You could always tell the truth, or try to brazen your way through. Gods, you could just start running and hope for the best…