Lowering his hooded eyes to rest on the wayward paw on his waist, Lucas pointedly offered a few minutes to give the other an opportunity to save his life. When no movement followed, Lucas serenely turned his head over to stare at Elias.
The latter, lifted chin resting against the door, impression dim in the cluttered room, smiled coolly.
"Should I tie you up for a bit?" wondered a certain sinister sponge.
An impish weed laughed with careless intrigue, holding two hands up. "Is this some sort of new play? Do with me as you please, darling. I'm yours to use."
"...speak less dirty words."
"For you," came the shameless response. "Dirty words are all that I have."
They remained at a standstill, one leisurely coping another feel, and the other, disgust written over every wrinkle of his skin.
Lucas sighed, before shuffling his weight even further on Elias and pressing against the door to double check for any sounds outside. He ignored the squirm of the item underneath him.
When he was certain that there was nothing, he pried the clinging fingers off him and swung his legs over.
Groping at the wall, he pressed on a switch, and the entire room was illuminated in sparkling lights, high at the ceiling. A clean room was revealed, with a bed in the far corner, beside a balcony.
A desk told the personality of the inhabitant, with a small stack of papers and pens organized by colour. Not a thing out of place.
Lucas took a step forward before something seized his arm.
He glanced back. "Now what?"
"I wouldn't recommend exploring." said Elias, looking around rather indifferently. "Your aim is to clear the objective, isn't it? Not to find out the story behind it all."
That was trueâLucas intended to figure everything out as soon as he could. He didn't have the time or interest in finding the supposed True Ending.
"The True Ending." Lucas recalled the Cinderella Story vaguely. "A glimpse of the psychological state of the protagonistsâsuch as Cinderella, and in here... Snow White?"
For some reason, Elias didn't answer right away. "I suppose you could say that."
"If not, then what is it?"
"Do you want to know?"
Lucas deadpanned, ready to befriend the fleshy mound outside instead. "If I didn't, why the hell am I asking?"
Elias laughed, shrugging carelessly to further irritate the other. "Well, you were generally right. The True Ending is the part of a tale we don't knowâthe secrets behind a Story that we choose to ignore."
"...that much is pretty obvious."
"Not good enough? Then why don't I tell you this?" He rapped against the wall, before strolling over to the papers and spreading them out. "Iâ"
interrupted a sharper voice, echoing from the bed.
Lucas whipped his head over, growing tense in an instant.
The light above swayed dangerously, and a black bunny perched on the center of the covers, staring with unblinking, rounded eyes.
"I would have to answer that only after I learned what there is."
Elias glanced over at Lucas' fathomless white eyes, unflinching in its stare. A winter calm had settled over his face in a thin frost, cold and indifferent.
In other words, an act of confidence.
Though Elias was certain that Lucas harboured a certain hatred of Tellers; the terrible entities destined to drag Kane into oblivion. He stared for a second, before stepping back and allowing his presence to melt into the scene.
Lucas startledâhe hadn't made his intentions of doing so obvious to any other. The mere knowledge of the Throne was rare, and he only knew from the pages of writing he'd written.
How did the Teller know his intentions?
A thoughtful muse glazed over Lucas' ears.
Lucas' memory of the novel grew fainter by the day, much as he tried to remember. He knew that the one who sat on the Throne and became [The Puppet of Delusion] would be granted any wishâ
âand that the protagonist of his novel had failed to reach the end.
Whether his wish had been rejected or stolen by that Catalyst, the one who protected the Throne, Lucas never had been clear.
But Kane couldn't meet that same fateâhe refused to allow it.
A hero's conclusion shouldn't have to end in sacrifice.
"The method?" Right now was a prime time to gather information from this solemn Teller, knowing more than he cared to tell. "You must defeat the Catalyst who protects the Throne."
Three?
There should've been four.
Impossible, the Catalysts were by no means easy to defeat. They, from the very beginning, were granted a power that could rival an army.
Only a person that had claimed many Titles for their own, and gained abilities beyond normal means, could stand a chance.
On the sidelines, Elias widened his eyes slightly in surprise before returning to his usual expression of casual aloofness. However, his deep blue gaze deepened, heavy in thought.
An amused chuckle eventually left him, as if mocking the idea. So one of them had died, was it?
How wonderful.
"The Catalyst that guards the Throne here..."
Lucas didn't ask further, expecting as much. He didn't want to solely rely on the words of a Teller, regardless, when the reason behind learning such things could be a price he couldn't afford.
"Can you tell me the method?"
This crucial information was necessary; or regardless of whether he found Kane, the destined fate couldn't be changed.
"What's the price?"
The rabbit regarded him, completely still, as if a piece of furniture in the room. The burning stare that swirled with emotions made any person uncomfortable.
With a tinge of respect, the bunny spoke.
"Of course." frowned Lucas, walking over to skim his fingers lightly over the papers on the desk; a glimpse sideways revealing Elias' solemn disposition. "I wouldn't trust your information if it were free."
The balcony flung open, pushed wide by the violent wind, curtains billowing wildly. Lucas narrowed his eyes, shielding his face from the sudden onslaught.
Above, the chandelier's sway begun to grow more chaotic, clinking jewels distracting and loud.
When Lucas turned his squinted gaze back to the bed, under the dulling lights, he saw the illusion of a young boy, perhaps 16, sitting calmly on the smooth covers. Half his face was obstructed by the curtains, but sorrowful eyes followed steadily.
A flap of paper rushed past Lucas' face, covered in tidy rows of writing.
The wind stopped as abruptly as it had come, and everything fell to the ground in an instant. The glass doors slammed open once more, before everything became stagnant.
And silence ensued.
Lucas blinked, but neither the outline of the teenager nor the raven bunny with melancholic eyes remained.
He had no intention of sympathizing with Tellers.
However, the clean irises that foretold a tale of great tragedy naturally roused one's curiosity and pity. Though that in itself may have been a trick.
He crouched down to gather the scattered sheets on the floor, arranging it into a neat stack before returning them onto the table. To discover the True Ending, he couldn't solely fixate on the original tale of Snow White.
Who did the room he stood within belong to?
Walking over to ruffle through drawers, he saw a variety of pants and shirts, all plain. There was a lack of colour, but it was organized with the same particular finesse as everything else in the room.
Assuming by the clothes and the size, it seemed to belong to a young boy.
Click.
Lucas turned, and Elias quietly closed the wide doors, drawing the curtains shut once more. At some point, the man had found time to change out of his clothes, fitting into a pair of trousers and a shirt that had likely been too large for the owner.
The lights remained a constant pulse in the room, though slightly more shadowed than they were originally.
The latter walked over to the desk, lowering his eyelashes that drew a gloom over his cheekbones. "You've decided to find the True Ending?"
"We'll look for Snow White as planned." said Lucas, flipping the paper over. They were scribbles of blueprints for the castle, and studies from books. "But if I can find the True Ending, then I'll find it."
He pulled open the drawers, finding a collection of non-fiction within. Grabbing them out, he skimmed over the titles. They seemed to be psychology analysis' on topics such as insecurity, the root of it, the influence of parents over children.
Finding nothing else, he moved to close the drawer before Elias reached out and stopped him. "There's something else in there."
The 'refusing to wear glasses' Lucas blinked. "I know."
"Of course you did."
Elias drew out a small, slender box that was wrapped to perfection in pale blue paper, tied together with a ribbon to adorn the top. It was obvious that the one who wrapped it was the owner of the roomâbut who was the recipient?
While Elias was wondering how to determine the intended receiver, Lucas snatched it out of his fingers and crudely ripped it open.
"......"
Lucas gave him an indifferent glance. "What? Do you have a problem?"
"No, I'm simply admiring your personality."
The underlying slander didn't go unnoticed by Lucas, but he dismissed it and finished tearing off the paper. Opening the box inside, he saw a neatly placed necklace with a delicate apple pendant.
A small note was tucked inside, reading: Welcome to the family, dear sister.
Several thoughts ran through Lucas' mind. The owner of this room had a sibling, then. However, as they lived in this castle, the two children were that of the Evil Queen.
He brushed his finger over the note.
Welcome?
Had the girl been taken in by this family, or adopted by other means? Or was she an illegitimate daughter, living far away until now?
Elias looked into the box, pulling up the golden apple necklace.
"Could this belong to Snow White?" He examined it carefully. "It's a colour that would compliment her described appearance, wouldn't it?"
Lucas thought back to the woman he'd seen in the beginningâand indeed, the gold compared to silver complimented her much better. Although his fashion sense wasn't terribly spectacular, so who could say?
"Then let's make an assumption. Snow White is the sibling of the owner of this room, probably a young teenage male. That gift is for her, and these booksâ"
"The boy, assuming he's born from the Evil Queen, realized that his mother had a terrible complex against her... new daughter." continued Elias. "But the character we want to by analyzing is Snow White, not her supposed brother."
"If we find out what part this boy plays in the Story, it could lead to many answers. After all, a character does not exist for no reason."
"One shouldn't assume every character achieves their purpose by the end."
"But the teenager noticed something. Considering his personality is likely to be straightforward, organized and polite, I don't think he would sit back and watch."
Elias nodded in agreement. "There might be more clues to discovering Snow White's desire in the forest, or in the cabin. Or with the characters we've yet to meet."
Lucas thought back to the horrific clump of torn bone and flesh in the cabin. If something was dead on one side of the mirror, it was likely dead on the other, too.
"The seven dwarfs are almost all dead. The only characters we should seek are the Hunter who kills her, and the Prince, who is enamored with her."
"Almost all? Which one survived?"
With an expression of absolute solemnity, Lucas answered, "Me."
Elias hummed before turning swiftly. "What? Say that again?"
"Dopey the dwarf. Myself."
There seemed to be a conflict whether to roll on the ground and laugh, or choke, displayed on the sly man's face. Holding the raging, cold-hearted Lucas, of all people, beside an image of the slightly silly dwarfâ
âa snort escaped Elias.
"......" Lucas stared at him with sharpened eyes, frowning. "Is there something funny, boss?"
Elias smiled innocently. "No, dear subordinate, I had something in my throat."
Mistrust evident in Lucas' dead stare, he eventually turned away, not interested in jokes. "Snow White ran away from her home because of her mother. The Hunter set to kill her failed. Eventually, she catches the eye of a rich man, and later gets vengeance on her mother."
He laid out the simplified storyâwhatever clues they were finding should follow it relatively. They were following breadcrumbs practically, hence why Lucas didn't originally intend to discover the True Ending.
He sighed and nodded towards the door. "It's time to head out."
Elias walked over, raising a finger to silence him and waited for a second before shaking his head. Lucas frowned.
"What is it?"
There was nothing but the windy breeze from outside, and the swaying jingle of jewels in the lights. Lucas moved beside Elias, who gestured for him to press his ear against the door.
At first, there was nothing.
And then, barely distinct and almost unnoticeable unless you pressed yourself right against the wood, he heard the slow drip of liquid.
Drip, drip.
Except, what sort of liquid would be dripping outside the door as they spoke? He didn't recall any leakage from the ceilings, or anything or the sort.
Drip.
It sounded... closer?
Drip.
"Elias."
The relaxed man tilted his head over, but the other person wasn't looking at him. Slowly, following the line of sight, his eyes trailed down to the oaken floors.
Drip.
A splatter of deep red, mixed with coagulated chunks.
He swallowed, a crisp sound within their waiting silence. Without needing any extra explanation, he twisted his head, hearing a faint creaking pressing on the door. As if something were pressed up against it.
'Don't look up.' His mind warned.
Then he saw the fingers.
Wedged in a tiny gap at the top of the door, squished and squeeze through until the flesh was deformed, bent in all sorts of horrific angles. Scabbed skin, baring open litters of wounds.
There was no shadow beneath the door, but the fingers above gave a hint that the 'thing' was currently smeared right against the door, clinging on and waiting.
What if they opened the door right now?
What sight would they see?
"Elias." said Lucas again, fixated on the bloody drip on the floor. His voice had dropped into a raspy whisper, a warning. The weight caused a louder, ominous creak to echo through the room.
"...Yes?"
"Run."
As soon as the words left his mouth, the handle rattled madly in knowing, and a thunder rained against the fragile wood.
Lucas bolted towards the window, Elias following closely behind.
They scrambled over the neatly made bed, tossing the sheets onto the ground as they did. The chandelier swung with a mad delight, lights crackling as they burst through the doors.
Lucas examined the distance to the groundâan injury was likely, but death could be avoided. His thoughts were overheating, working overtime.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
But the front door was no longer an option.
Thinking sorrowfully to his knees, he wanted to voice a few complaints. Why was it that recent scenarios all seemed determine to make him jump from high places?
He quite valued his legs.
"Don't get distracted, darling."
A hand overlapped his own, and before he could protest, his entire body was tugged forward to the railings. His hands burned, a tickling sensation of warmth.
Elias glanced back, smiling with that carefree sly of his lips, and then threw them both over. A rather romantic double deathânot.
A string of curses left Lucas' mouth at the suddenness of the drop and lack of control of his fall due to a certain someone dragging him off. They spun in the air, just as the door flung forwards, crumbling to the ground.
Lucas kicked Elias away mid-air, tumbling and trying to find an optimal position to land in.
However, the seconds he had were few, and before he blinked, they were both crashed through a cluster of branches, falling onto a hedge and rolling onto the cold stone pathway.
He'd barely angled his fall so that the trees significantly slowed him down, landing right in the bushes.
Protecting his head, he allowed the momentum of his roll to slow.
Entire body protesting in pain, he forced himself into a stand and bolted into the forest, not checking whether his supposed companion followed behind.