Page 52 of Eye of the Beholder
There’s water coming out of the faucet. Except…it’s red.
“Nope,” Mina says behind me. “Nope. I’m out.” She shuffles into the next room—which I can only assume has to be better than this one—and I follow quickly. I don’t mean to use her as an excuse to get away from the bathtub, but I’m not upset about the opportunity.
“Ugh. This is worse,” she says, turning her whole body to face me. I let my eyes sweep the room. I have to agree with her. There’s something shadowy in the far corner, and every inch of the walls is covered in writing. Big, frantic letters that, when I squint my eyes to read the wall nearest me, seem to be detailing some sort of internal dialogue.
Mina drops her voice to a whisper, and I have to lean in to hear her. “Is that a bed down there?” she says, jerking her head in the direction of the shadowy corner.
I lean closer without meaning to. It puts me in mind of what happened in the corn maze, and I push that away and lean back immediately. “Go check,” I say.
“No way. You go,” she says, giving my leg a little kick. “Be the big, strong man. This is your job.”
“Absolutely not. You go. You owe me.”
She raises one eyebrow. “Really? This is how you want to cash that in?”
Good point. “Let’s leave it and look for the hidden room instead,” I say. I turn my back on the corner with the possible bed. There are probably chains next to it, and that freaks me out.
Mina’s eyes light up. “Really?”
I shrug. “Sure. What else are we going to do? Actuallylookat the scary things?”
“True,” she says, voice musing. She traces one finger absently over her bottom lip, and I watch her. “We could shut Virginia inside,” she says.
My eyes go back to hers as I laugh. “There’s a thought. So, you’re the smart one—how do we find a secret room?”
“Not sure,” she says. She looks through the doorway at the others, who are still standing around the bathtub. “We might have missed it already.”
We search the next two rooms with increasingly devoted effort. It’s easier to ignore things like creepy, boarded-up windows and open wardrobes full of blood-spattered dresses when you’re focusing on something else.
The third room we look in looks like a little study, except that it’s all wrong. When I think of studies, I picture dark wood and leather chairs and floor-to-ceiling bookshelves. Maybe a painting of dogs playing cards and the smell of tobacco. This room has none of that, but there is a desk, a chair, and a single bookshelf against the opposite wall.
I look at Mina at the same time as she looks at me. Our expressions both say the same thing: we have to check the bookshelf.
Behind a bookshelf is the number-one place to hide a secret room. Everyone knows that.
We rush to it, and I pointedly ignore what look to be animal bones on the floor. Man, this place is disgusting. When we reach the bookshelf, I begin scanning all the pictures and trinkets it holds. There’s a vase, which I pick up and give a little rattle. There’s nothing inside, and it’s not connected to the shelf at all.
Mina, on the other hand, tilts her head and begins scanning the books. I’m just reaching for a small picture frame when she says,
“Ah-ha. Here.” She points at a large red book, and I tilt my head to read the title.
Secrets.
“Yep,” I say with a wry grin. “Not very subtle, are they?”
“This might not even be it,” she says with a glance at me, but her face is shining with excitement.
“Pull on it,” I say, shoving my hands in my pockets. I try to stamp down a wave of nervousness. But can I be blamed for being apprehensive about a secret room in an old asylum?
Mina gives the book a tug, and it slides out—partly. She tugs a bit harder until there’s a loud click.
The bookcase in front of us swings open to reveal a small room.
“Whoa,” Mina says, sounding awed.
I shake my head. “That is truly horrific.”
“Yeah,” Mina says. “It really is.” She sounds part intrigued, part disturbed.
