Welcome to the Rose Mansion - Chapter 55
A heavy, sharp gaze seemed to press down on her entire body. Naturally, she didn’t have the courage to look back. Her heart felt like it was about to burst out of her chest.
Richelle covered her mouth with both hands and crouched down tightly. Pretend you don’t see me. Please.
How much time had passed? Although it was only a few minutes in reality, it felt like an eternity to her. After the persistent silence, indifferent footsteps began to echo again gradually.
Even after the sound of laughter was mixed in, Richelle couldn’t get up. She needed a bit more time for strength to return to her legs.
After crouching for a while, Richelle crawled up the stairs with a pale face.
I need to return to my room quickly. If I delay any longer and get caught by them, who knows what will happen.
It didn’t take long to reach the third floor. She didn’t encounter that wind-like presence again. However, Richelle faced a new problem.
On the third-floor corridor, various noises including footsteps and laughter continued to spill out.
What should I do now?
She sat down next to the staircase, looking around. Naturally, she couldn’t see the light mentioned in the Bertrand rules.
What should I do?
Due to the fear that had taken over her body, her mind wasn’t working well. Richelle leaned her head against the wall.
To return to her room, she must pass through the third-floor corridor. But the corridor was crowded with ‘them’. Could she run to her room without being caught by ‘them’?
‘I’m tired.’
She was aware of the mansion’s strangeness a long time ago. She had encountered dangerous situations several times.
However, in the past two months, she had never felt the clear presence of death’s threat as close as now.
Richelle realized with acute clarity that she only knew a fraction of the mansion’s true nature. This mansion was dangerous, far beyond what she had vaguely anticipated.
It was an unwelcome realization.
As Richelle aimlessly looked up at the ceiling, she suddenly turned her gaze towards a painting hanging above. It was a painting she often saw while coming and going, depicting the feast of the gods drawn about 300 years ago…
“…?”
Richelle straightened her upper body. There was something odd about this painting. It definitely looked different than usual.
Yes. Those eyes… The eyes of the people attending the feast.
Why were they all looking this way?
“Ah―.”
The people drawn in the painting all opened their mouths at once.
And then, without a chance for her to move away,
“AAAAHHHHHHHHHHH―!”
A bloodcurdling scream rushed towards her as if to burst her eardrums.
Richelle quickly stood up. However, her feet stuck to the floor wouldn’t move. This isn’t good. She needed to flee.
But where?
Downstairs? Or the third-floor corridor?
The eyes in the painting followed Richelle’s movements. The mouths wide open continued their screams. Richelle made up her mind.
I have to break through. To the third-floor corridor!
The overwhelming fear now passed its limit, turning into numbness. Richelle bit her lips hard and dashed into the third-floor corridor.
Run! Don’t think, just run!
The corridor was much darker than other places. In the darkness, an unusually large number of shadows were visible. People in dresses, people in suits, people with dangling heads, people split in half, or something that didn’t resemble a human form at all.
Her body bumped into the shadows. Something sharp scraped her cheek. But Richelle didn’t stop. Even as the unnaturally long corridor seemed to steal her breath, she kept moving her legs.
The moment a familiar door came into view, something grabbed her ankle.
“Argh!”
She could tell just by the sensation. It was a cold, dry hand.
She fell forward, face-first onto the floor. Her nose felt numb as if it were broken, but Richelle didn’t hesitate to try and get up. However, another hand reached out and forcefully pressed down on Richelle’s head.
Gasp, gaaasp…
Fumbling, countless hands started crawling over her body. Behind her, a cackling laughter sounded. It seemed like a man’s, or perhaps a woman’s, maybe even a child’s, or it could have been an old person’s laughter.
Only a choked groan escaped through Richelle’s teeth. The scent of roses invaded her nose as if to paralyze it. Her head spun around. It felt as if her entire body was plunged into filth.
Stop, stop it. Please, someone.
“Help―!”
“Goodness. With how much noise there’s been, I came out to see what it was.”
It was a sweet voice that didn’t fit the chaos.
Richelle stopped the harsh breaths she was drawing. Step, step. Even the footsteps approaching her sounded elegant.
“Richelle, what are you doing here?”
A red light blurred before her eyes. The weight pressing down on her vanished in an instant. Richelle gasped and lifted her head. There was a light there.
“Are you alright?”
No, it wasn’t just a light.
There stood…
“Take my hand, Richelle. I’ll help you.”
…Rogéros Walter, smiling as beautifully as ever.
