Nightmare Game
Copyright© 2025 by CaffeinatedTales
Chapter 37
They stayed in that night, skipping any outings.
Morning brought the fifth day.
Three days left. If they could unravel the castle’s secrets and survive, perhaps they’d return home.
Early on, Ethan spotted Serena knocking at Grace’s door, concern etched on her face.
“Ethan, perfect timing.”
She approached. “Grace hasn’t emerged in days. At this rate, she’ll starve in there.”
Ethan doubted her worry was genuine; likely, she aimed to assess the guests’ statuses.
He nodded and stepped to the door, rapping gently.
“Grace, it’s Ethan. You okay in there?”
“...”
Silence, as if the room stood empty.
“You could survive on water alone, but remember? You’ve skipped two banquets. Miss tonight, and that’s three missed Orders, probably fatal by dawn.”
Still no response. Ethan shook his head at Serena and turned to leave.
Then Grace’s voice drifted out.
“Just leave me be.”
Weak and laced with despair.
Ethan recognized she’d lost her will to live, likely shattered by her last Order, pushing her timid nature to prefer death over participation.
“What now?” Serena asked, feigning reluctance.
“I can save someone on the brink, but not one set on dying.”
He gave her a meaningful look, laced with double meaning, which she missed.
They headed downstairs for breakfast in the dining room. Afterward, Ethan sent Serena back to wait, assuring her his progress was solid and the castle’s secrets would soon surface, no need for concern.
With her compliant agreement, they parted. Ethan went alone to the kitchen.
The space wasn’t tiny, and the maid passed through occasionally, even Butler now and then, so he couldn’t search openly.
He sharpened his hearing to avoid detection while scanning around.
Soon, tapping a floor section produced a hollow thud, distinct from the solid thumps nearby.
Pleased, he traced the edges delicately with his fingertips.
His fingers navigated the seams until hitting a slight bump.
Pressing it triggered a click, and a corner sank, revealing stairs downward.
Below glowed brightly, not dark, suggesting frequent use.
After checking for onlookers, he descended swiftly and sealed the entrance.
It matched his guess: a food pantry.
Lit by electric bulbs, the area shone clearly enough to survey.
Shelves brimmed with goods, from jarred jams and cured meats to dried grains and beans, all neatly arranged.
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