Mansion of Madness! - Chapter 2

No sooner had the laughter started than it faded, leaving them all standing silent in the dark, with only Miss Silver’s little ball to give them light. Frowning, Weiss rubbed her ears, wondering if it had even been real in the first place. Perhaps this place was simply driving her to madness. “What do we do now?” she repeated. 

“What ever we’re going to do, we should do it quickly,” said Samus. “We can’t assume they’ll leave us alone forever.” 

“Well, we should start by leaving this place, obviously,” said the pink-haired girl with the pigtails, folding her arms and flicking her eyes at the door.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” said Erza, inspecting the still smoking form of Baka.

Nicole scowled.

As Weiss went to make her own comment on how idiotic that would be, the armoire in the corner rumbled again, wobbling from side to side on its stumpy wooden legs. Looking closely, she realized it had a strangely anthropomorphic design; that is, the entire thing had been carved to suggest the human body, with feet for legs and hands for handles and the impression of screaming faces on the doors–in the darkness, they looked practically demonic. 

Now that she looked closer, the same was true of every furnishing in the room, from the bunkbeds to the carpet. And the paintings, well… Looking at one, she blushed. That went without saying. 

“Ugh,” said Erza, as the armoire rumbled again. “I think we should start by figuring out whatever’s making that noise."

“Ar-are you sure that’s a good idea?” said Emilia, looking left and right for support. “What if whatever’s in there is dangerous?”

“It could be a monster!” cried Ilulu, sounding more excited by the prospect than anything.

“Or a trap!” said Nicole.

“Or a monster-trap!” cried Baka.

The more level-headed members of the group exchanged a look. “It’ll probably fine,” said Erza, eventually, “so long as we’re cautious.” She glanced at Samus, who nodded in agreement.

As the two made to approach the elaborately-decorated wardrobe, Weiss realized one member of their little party hadn’t been paying attention at all: Miss Silver Hair and Pointy Ears stood between two of the beds, her eyes fixed on the painting on the wall. Since she was holding their only source of light, this made things ever so slightly difficult for the rest of them.

“Hey!” said Weiss, hurrying over. “This isn’t an art museum! We don’t have time to gawp at the paintings.”

The silver-haired girl simply smiled at her. “I don’t think this is a painting,” she said, sending her little ball of light to float slightly closer. “Look.” 

Weiss squinted. “What?” she said. “I don’t see anything.” 

“I’ll show you. Get down on your hands and knees.” 

“Get down on my…?!” Weiss blinked. “Why should I possibly want to do that?!” 

“So I can stand on your back,” said the girl, cocking her head as if this were obvious. “I won’t be able to reach it otherwise.” 

Weiss’s eye twitched. “Fine!” she snapped at last. “It’s not as if I’m not embarrassed enough already!” She’d intended this to provoke a reaction, but the girl continued to stare at her blandly. Finally, with a groan, Weiss dropped to the floor, her face inches from the wall. “There. Is this good enough for you?” 

“Yes.” The sole of a boot slammed into Weiss’s back, making her hiss.

“H-hey! Be careful!” 

Ignoring her, the girl clambered onto her back, planting her feet right on Weiss’s shoulders and stood tall, hmm’ing to herself as she examined the painting. Weiss strained to look up too. “Well?!” 

“Hmm.” The painting Miss Silver had chosen depicted a young brunette, naked, in the embrace of an octopus. ‘Embrace’ was the wrong word, actually–if your uncle embraced you like that, you certainly wouldn’t be inviting him to the next family meal. (Fortunately, uncles don’t normally have as many limbs.) “It’s very well-made,” she said. 

“Oh, well, I’m glad you’re here to appreciate it! Now are you done or not?” 

The girl ignored her. “But it’s not quite perfect…” Raising her hand, Silver went to tap the painting. But the instant before she made contact– 

<SKILL CHECK: FREIREN - WISDOM …PASS!> 

 –she snatched her hand back. 

And just in time: not an instant later, the painting rippled like the skin of a lake, and from the canvas burst eight thick, throbbing tentacles. Eight very eager tentacles, by the way they were coiling. 

Silver hopped casually off Weiss’s back and out of range, leaving the Schnee heiress herself as the primary target. “Wh-what? Hey!” The tendrils drew back, like a fencer preparing for a thrust, and threw themselves at her in a single slimy assault. 

<SKILL CHECK: WEISS - AGILITY …PASS!>

With a sudden flash of panic, she leapt to her feet and darted back just in time to avoid them grabbing her. The tentacles stretched themselves taut, squeaking and straining, but they couldn’t extend more than three meters at most. So long as they stayed beyond the beds, they were safe. 

Heart pounding, Weiss stumbled back and crashed into Miss Silver, who placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. “It’s like a mimic,” she explained. 

“What the hell is that?!” cried Weiss, sweat tripping from her cheeks. 

On the ground, Baka moaned. “Monster-trap! Monster-trap! I told nyou dere’d be monster-traps, nya!” Sniveling, she pulled her hair over her eyes and shook from side to side. 

“Are you done?” asked Erza, folding her arms. “We need the light, Miss…?” 

“Freiren,” said Miss Silver. She sent her little light bobbing over to the armoire, where Samus and the rest of the group were waiting.

“Thank you,” said Erza, turning back to the armoire herself. Exactly why she was so desperate to open it was impossible to guess–Weiss wondered if she simply wanted a change of clothes. She certainly wouldn’t complain about one. 

As Erza took her place in front of the armoire, Samus and Ilulu grabbed the handles of the doors. “On the count of three,” said Erza, readying her fists to throw a punch. “One… Two…” 

“Three!” At her command, Samus and Ilulu flung the doors open, exposing…

Weiss went red. Well, it was certainly a change of clothes.

The armoire, it turned out, was full of erotic outfits: bunnysuits, nurse outfits, cowgirl costumes, and bikinis in every color of the rainbow, especially the skimpy red portion. The only thing these degenerate duds shared in common was how much skin they revealed, which is to say, a lot. You could cover more with a napkin.

Reaching in, Erza plucked a bunnysuit from the hanger and held it up, seeming considerably less embarrassed than she should have been. 

“I don’t understand,” said Emilia. “If it’s merely full of clothes, then why was it–?” 

Like something possessed, the bunnysuit lurched into life, stretching its ears and its leggings like lascivious hands and tearing at Erza’s maid uniform. Her bodice tore with a terrible rrrrip. “H-hey! Get off of me!” 

<SKILL CHECK: ERZA - STRENGTH …PASS!>

With a veritable warcry, Erza grabbed the bunnysuit by the collar, ripped it off her, and flung it back into the armoire. It flipped, coiling as if to launch itself back at her, but before it had a chance, she threw herself forward and slammed the doors shut. Tearing the ribbon from her uniform, she used it to tie the handles and stepped back with a sigh of relief. The armoire continued to bang and shake as the bunnysuit fought to escape. 

Stepping back, Erza sighed in relief. “That didn’t go too badly.” 

Naturally, it was at this exact moment that her skirt and her bodice decided to fall apart, exposing her bra and panties. Blushing, she struggled to cover herself. 

Gura snickered. “Maybe you should try it agian.” 

As Erza opened her mouth to snap back at her, someone called from the other side of the room: “Hey! If you’re done with the light, can I borrow it next?” 

Weiss turned to see Nicole stooped by the bedroom’s door, only an inch or two from the spot where Baka had been zapped. 

“B-be careful!” cried Emilia, raising a hand in warning. “Y-you don’t want to…!” 

<SKILL CHECK: NICOLE - INTELLIGENCE …PASS!>

“Relax,” said Nicole, standing a running a hand through her hair. “This one’s obvious. Look.” The rest of them hurried over, Freiren pushing her little light ahead of her like a balloon, and bent to see what Nicole was pointing at. It turned out to be a line of runes in a language Weiss didn’t recognize.

“Interesting,” said Freiren. “It’s no magical language I’ve ever seen before. Ah…” She looked around and sighed in defeat. “I wish I had something to take notes with.” 

“So… what?” asked Ilulu, folding her arms and huffing. “How does this help us?” 

Nicole rolled her eyes. “Look where it is! It’s right on the threshold! Here, you can even see how Baka smudged it when she stepped on it.” She pointed to a rune that looked a little scuffed. “All we have to do to get past is step over it.” And to prove her point, she stuck her arm through the doorway. Weiss flinched, expecting another zap of lightning, but nothing happened. “See?” 

“We should move then,” said Samus, “quickly. Before anyone comes to find us.” 

“You first,” said Weiss, flatly. 

After a moment of pause, Samus went, stepping over the runes and out into the corridor, and looking left and right in search of the inevitable guards. “It’s clear,” she said at last.

Erza hurried to follow her, as did the others. One by one, they crossed the threshold and out into the stor–into the mansion proper. From now on, they were out of the tutorial–the dangers were sure to be real from hereon. 

Hopping over the runes herself, Weiss turned back to see Baka standing and shivering, clearly too afraid to cross. “Come on, you can do it!” she said encouraging. Or am I going to have to drag you across?

Swallowing, Baka screwed up her eyes, took a step forward, and–

<SKILL CHECK: BAKA - AGILITY …FAIL!>

– tripped and slammed facefirst into the trap. Zzzzzap! 

Afterward, once Baka had been extinguished, the nine of them stood in the center of the corridor, Freiren’s little light throwing their shadows all over the walls. The floorboards creaked beneath their feet as they shuffled anxiously from foot to foot, flinging their eyes in one direction and then the other. There were plenty of things to see: more paintings, which they definitely weren’t going to touch, but also strange plants with plump pitchers, almost like lips. Suits of armor, standing sentinel between the other furnishings.  An elaborate darkwood chest of drawers. 

A faint voice, at the very edge of hearing: “Go on… What will nyou do nyow…?” 

Vote to decide who should act and what they should do! Depending on the combination, this might go really well for them! …Or it might not. More than one option may be enacted. 

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