Lightning illuminates the brilliant pathway beneath, lifting one's eyes skyward, bringing even the slowest soul-pulses back into a steady and strong rhythm. The poor people of Osborn beg to differ, though, as they have long been feeling lost in the declining city.
On the other side of the town, where the people who own estates are more privileged, Emily's feet dwindle a little as she storms out of the creaky dungeon.
She squints and winces when the hinges screech. 'Goddamn medieval wooden doors!'
As soon as she fully prods her body on the bricked hallway, a pungent scent wafted through her nose. She surmised that it must've come from the sewage system below since she's deep under the manor, but the rusty hint of whatever that is put her on the edge.
When she shut the door in complete caution, she stood upright and hoisted the lamp forward. "That doesn't smell like sewage water at all," she whispers to herself.
Moving forward, the corner of her eyes caught glimpse of the outright golden door by the end of the hallway. On her left is the path she should take, the narrow staircase, but her beating heart somehow whispers to her that she should check what's on the other end.
The seeping piquancy came there, and she's a hundred percent certain that it's a bloody concoction.
So, Emily found herself in a dilemma. Still, eventually, she shakes her head with closed eyes.
"No, my goal is to get out of here. I don't need any more problems to deal with. Let's just say it's raw fish," she audibly said to herself and came rushing up the staircase. She carefully lifts her dress since the mudcap rungs are a bit lean.
When she reached the upper level leading to the mezzanine floor, she stopped for a moment and calmed herself. "Hoo… Don't blow this chance off, Emily. Find that stupid well, swim, and then you'll be back in the present!"
She turns the knob in a slow, intricate manner. Thankfully, it didn't create a sharp sound, or maybe it did, and the ear-piercing patters of the rain and ominous thunder just covered it. Stirring her green eyes around, the darkness rendered her rather tame. All of the lights powered by the coals were turned off. Only the lightning that comes every eighteen seconds lit the place up, and that time window is still a bit destitute.
Nonetheless, Emily's fearless blood came about and at this moment, she treads through the silent kitchen. It seems like no one's here.
'Everyone has left already?' she asks herself, thinking about the Viscount's helpers.
Emily doesn't know if that's a bad thing, but maybe it's a winning card that could make her plans turn the trick. A bit more exploring and looking at the eccentric paintings in the maid's quarters and she stands after the backdoor.
This must be it…
But another hindrance unfortunately came her way.
"What the heck?"
A few more clicks and her irk grew to anger.
The backdoor was locked.
It's either she finds the key, or she exits through the main entrance, the one in the grand hall.
'That door will definitely sound like a stomping elephant if I bolt the fuck out of there! Why did they even lock the backdoor? They're not living in 2020. Ugh!' Emily looks behind her and bit her lips.
"Should I find the key?"
First and foremost, her planning skills isn't the best, but when it came to such challenging circumstance, it's a no-brainer that her competitiveness will pilot her usually blank mind. Even in escape rooms with her friends, she takes charge.
Now that it's a matter of life and death, she's choosing the safest option.
'It's not guaranteed that the front door isn't locked. It's safer to find the key and exit using the backdoor.'
She pulls her lamp over and scans the kitchen.
…
The Viscount is a nobleman, which means that he's basically as monstrous as Lady Victoria in terms of disciplining the servants. Even though Louis told Emily earlier that Clyde is a nice man, that doesn't guarantee that her punishment for an attempted escape would be painless.
Emily's first step towards freedom is to avoid the two. In order to do that, she needs to keep quiet.
But if all else comes to shove, she just needs to protect herself.
'Let's hope I don't end up as a murdered in this timeline,' she told the knife she was holding as if it was a person capable of understanding her mumbling capers.
The second on her list was navigating through the manor in hopes of finding the key. Judging by the perfectly crafted image of Viscount Clyde, such a thing wouldn't be sitting inside his room. For starters, thieves would know where to break in first. It has to be in his study room, which is conveniently connected to the library, as she heard from Louis.
Now, she's not the best in architectural drafting, but she knew for a fact that study rooms in the past are a bit more different from the present. For the record, study rooms in the 20th century are commonly inside the rooms of the person in question. However, in this timeline of grand glam and galore, study rooms are located in…
"Bingo!" Emily mutters when she looked outside the small window of the communal space.
It's the woods, and no self-respecting nobleman such as Clyde would situate an important room on the side facing the bustling street.
Just like that, the hellbent woman began her journey. The tiled floor didn't creak, but one wrong move or if she dropped neither the knife nor the lamp, it will ring anyone's ear and wake up two sleeping dragons.
Emily passed through the dining hall, where everyone was gathered earlier. The gigantic wooden table was now cleared; only a few ornaments depicting God-knows-who nestles there. Some mats and a perfectly placed white cloth surround the edge, adding a luxurious flair.
The fixings of the manor are either made of gold or pure stones. It reflects the lightning every single time it comes. Finally, Emily reached the cul de sac of the staircase, but a small patch of blackened liquid made her halt. It resembles footprints, but it has been brushed as if the person was running and stepped on it.
'What the…' she initially ponders, but she threw that daunting fact aside and looked up the stairs.
'I don't give a damn. My only goal is to get back in the present,' she told herself for the nth time. There's no need to investigate the minor leaps that wouldn't benefit her.
She began to tread the grand staircase and avoided touching the golden handrail. When she reached the top, she looked left and right and figured she'd go west, as a pathway leading to the southern wing that faces the woods was perched in this area.
Woefully, when she began to move together with the booming lightning, a silhouette appeared before her.
The person stands tall and mighty at the end of the threshold, right in front of the portal-like window.
Frozen, Emily let out a gasp, and when the darkness claimed the halls again, the unfamiliar knot in her stomach appeared.
'Shit…'