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Thank you for your patience on the Bluebeard chapter. We’re nearing the end now! 

You’ve been left alone in Bluebeard’s office. You might as well take advantage of the opportunity and snoop around his desk…

*

You move to the door and peer out. It does seem to be identical to the hallways you wandered in the main house, without the strangeness of the one you found when you chased the masked people hauling the woman out. You don’t know if that’s a good sign or a bad one. With the strangeness cloaking this night, you can’t take anything for granted.

But you’re in Bluebeard’s office. If you want a chance to discover what’s truly going on here, you can’t afford to miss this opportunity. You softly close the door until it’s only barely unlatched. Then you turn for the desk. It’s a massive thing, all dark wood and pristine in a way that should suggest it’s rarely used, but instead seems to indicate the level of Bluebeard’s control. He clearly likes everything in its place, and his desk is no exception. You try very hard not to think about the fact that you are not in the place he designated for you right now. 

The top of the desk contains only a notepad, a pen, neither of which seems to be anything other than what they appear, and a letter opener, which is sharp enough to draw blood but hardly a weapon capable of being used if it comes to a fight. You try the drawers next, but every single one of them is locked. Of course they are. If this man–he must be a man, right?–is this contained, he wouldn’t leave drawers unlocked for anyone to rifle through. Even if there wasn’t supposed to be anyone in the house but the two of you.

You sit back on your heels with a wince. The seconds are ticking down until he returns. You simply don’t have time to break into the drawers and then attempt to make them look like they haven’t been broken into. You wouldn’t know where to start. 

Instead, you push to your feet and turn to the fancy filing cabinet tucked in the corner. It’s just as sturdy as the desk, but when you pull on one of the drawers, it’s unlocked. You frown. Lucky. It doesn’t feel like luck, though–nothing about tonight has, as if the moment you agreed to come to this place, you took the first step down a path that you’ll never be able to take back. You’d call the suspicion melodramatic, but if anything, considering what you’ve witnessed tonight, it might be underselling the reality. Can you leave this house? You want to be sure it’s an option the moment the sun emerges from behind the horizon, a promise of safety. Unfortunately, you can’t bet on being rescued, by the sun or otherwise.

You understand why this drawer is unlocked immediately; while it has plenty of manila folders in it, they all appear to be blank. Whatever business Bluebeard has, it hasn’t stretched to this particular drawer. When you try the other three, they’re all locked. 

“Damn it.” You glance at the cracked door, but there’s no indication of Bluebeard’s return. It could be in thirty seconds, or in thirty minutes. Or never, a little voice inside you whispers. You try very hard to ignore it.

You could sit here and wait, or you could break into one of these drawers and to hell with the consequences. The latter is not a good idea, but it’s the best one you have right now. You turn back to the desk and grab the letter opener. It’s not particularly large, which works in your favor as you wedge it into the crack at the top of the drawer above the lock and force the drawer open. It gives with a creak that feels louder than a gunshot. You spin around and press your back to the filing cabinet. Even as you hold your breath, the seconds tick by and you aren’t betrayed by the sound of approaching footsteps. After a count to thirty, you manage to unlock your muscles and turn away from the door.

This drawer isn’t filled with blank folders. Instead, it’s packed tightly with filed ones, each labeled in a neat, blocky print. You flick through the labels, your frown only growing with each one you read.

Janessa, Virginia, Luke, Jennifer, Toby, Rachel, Max. 

Your confusion only grows as you pull out the Max file and flip through the thick stack of papers it contains. The first looks almost like a dossier with some basic facts about this person, complete with a photo. They are a white person with a shock of purple hair, cut in a shaggy style that might be intentional or might be something they did themselves. You flip more pages. Apparently they were a runaway at sixteen, had a rough couple of years, and then landed on their feet around twenty, more or less. When they were twenty-one they were issued an invitation to this house–a copy of it is in the file. And then…nothing.

You pick files at random, barely forcing yourself to replace each one as you find more of the same. People who were in bad home situations, abusive relationships, or the kind of down on their luck where they were huddled below rock bottom. Every one of them contains an invitation, though they don’t all look the same. Some are literal invitations, like you’d get for a fancy wedding. Some are handwritten letters, the paper aged and yellowed despite the fact that their attached dossiers are still a pristine white as if just printed yesterday. 

The ones that stop you cold are almost identical to the letter you received. A dead uncle, an eclectic task, a promise of life-changing money. 

Panic bleats at you, but you force yourself to return each file to exactly where it was and shove the drawer closed until it sticks. It won’t hold up to a thorough examination, but you don’t intend to stick around and wait for whatever happened to these other people to happen to you. Was the woman you tried to save also someone who Bluebeard lured to this house with nefarious intent? You can’t rule it out, even if you don’t see a file with her picture in this drawer. Or yours, for that matter. There are several other drawers, but there’s simply no time.

What little curiosity remained after your misadventures for the night has fizzled. What happened to these people? Did Bluebeard do whatever he intended to the woman you tried to save? Are they among the crowd in the ballroom, masked and dancing as if it’s the most normal thing in the world? You’d have to return to find out, to see if you can pick out Max’s purple locks or Janessa’s kind hazel eyes, or Jennifer’s sweet smile. 

Absolutely not. You have to get out of here.

You rush to the door, barely taking a moment to peer through the crack to ensure the hallway is still empty. It seems to be, which is enough for you. You open it just enough to slide out and then hurry down the hall, moving as silently as possible. Each step away from the office coats you in thick swipes of dread, stronger and stronger, until it feels like you’re wading through waist-deep mud. Sweat dampens your hairline and your muscles quake with strain. What’s going on?

The dress, you realize, as you reach the end of the hall and find it branching off into two directions. The dress, so voluminous and frothy, has changed from being barely noticeable to a weight you can barely carry. You could almost swear it’s getting heavier as the distance between you and the office increases. 

You duck into the first door you see and pull off the mask. Or you try to. It resists the attempt, clinging to your skin tightly despite only being held with a pretty strap. You have to fight to get it off, and it hurts, it hurts so desperately that you want to scream, but if you scream, he might hear and that represents a fate worse than pain. With one last muffled cry, you yank it from your face and fling it away from you.

The moment it leaves your hand, the horrible weight of the dress disappears and you’re standing in the clothing you started with. You press your hands to your chest as if that’s enough to contain the sob of relief that threatens to tear through you. 

But now your identity is there for anyone who sees you. There will be no hiding it from Bluebeard if he finds you now.

You run.

*

Where are you headed? Will you try to hide until morning? Stage an attack? Maybe risk trying to return to your room? Or is the front door your attempted destination? Comment below with your suggestions!