In few strides down the hallway, they reached the mansion's baked brick wall and followed Jake into what looked like a dimly lighted laundry room the size of a little large closet turned into a wine cellar. The space had no windows, and only that single door that served both as its exit and also, its entrance, and to this fact did Melanie credit the faint stagnant smell of bleach and old dust.

On her right, behind the now open door was revealed, as soon as Jake depressed the light switch, the dusty shelf the shape of honey comb, that towered over them with old bottles of wine stacked in them. Melanie was tempted.

Facing them as they entered was a large-space-occupying, old laundry machine, beside it and leaning on it was a mop stick with thick ropes the shape of dreadlocks, causing Melanie to have that same urge to dig her fingers into it, grab a handful and fumble. Besides these, was nothing remotely mind blowing and that was what Melanie contemplated and turned quickly to Paul who entered the space after her, with the intentions to begin another round of mockery at Jake's expense, but at that same moment, did Paul push himself in -- into the tight space -- in order to allow clearance to shut the door behind him; and for this did she mildly crash into him and got tangled into his webbing aura. Jake was backing them, and so he did not see, giving the uninterrupted opportunity for them to get tangled in the fleeting moment of freezing shock, mild awkwardness, deeply intimate gaze locking, palpitations and blush. Melanie felt a mild tingling sensation at the tips of her fingers, and for a second or two, she did not quite breathe. His smell filled her nose, but that was not why.

"You guys have to promise to keep this a secret," Jake began to say without turning around and, with that, began to pull them from their frenzied, tangled, heightened sensation of each other's pheromones and unsettling proximity. "The knowledge of this place is not for everyone." He concluded.

Melanie had to swallow and Paul had to clear his throat before they managed to mutter; "Okay!" in unison, which came off almost as in an exhausted breathless whisper. And then Melanie spun to face Jake. Again, she had to swallow before she could breathe.

"Is there a good reason why we are in a..." She studied her environment. "Where the hell is this place?"

"Just watch." Jake demanded and had, by this time reached around the massive laundry machine in an awkward effort to reach something behind it. Melanie watched doubtfully until she heard a click and a triumphant "yes!" from Jake, and then a hiss that sounded sort of mechanical as characteristic of pressured air escaping a nozzle, and after that was the sound of moving gears, working  softly and producing a soft rumble that caused Melanie to feel immersed into a scene in Star Trek. Jake stepped back just in time for the machine to begin motion, rolling, apparently, on wheels moved by the gears as it slid leftward.

"Wow!" Melanie let out and Paul followed with an intrigued "Hmm." Which cued Jake to peep at them over his shoulders and respond with a grin.

"Wait for it." He said and they did have to be patient, but not for long as a hatch appeared on the floor near the wall in the place where the machine once stood. It was a big rectangular silvery slab with a handle fancy and characteristic of a freezer door. "I've been here just once before," Jake announced as he reached down and pulled the hatch open, revealing a hollow dark space underneath. "I was rebellious as hell." He winked at Melanie, and without wasting time, began to descend the stairs, disappearing into the darkness. Melanie and Paul watched quietly and contemplatively as he finally added; "I would have said ladies first, but then..." His voice echoed and sounded eerie as his head disappeared into the blackness. "You will need to be guided, so you don't miss a step."

With folded arms, Melanie drew closer to the hole and peered in with a brave look on her face, but with slight lingering fear and horror in her heart, which caused her to flinch nervously when Paul placed a hand on her shoulder.

"I can go next," He offered thoughtfully. "That is, if you want."

"Pfft!" Melanie let out an ostentatious brave laugh. "Why on earth would I want that?"

Paul shrugged. "I don't know . . . You look kinda sc–"

"I'm not!" She retorted sharply and smiled.

"I'm waiting." Jakes reverberating voice came, and so Melanie jumped in after it.

Two steps down into the abyss, Melanie stopped abruptly, mildly stunned, because she felt Jakes hand reach her buttocks tenderly, cupping it, apparently giving her support.

"Watch your step." Jake said, and Melanie rolled her eyes and replied quickly.

"It appears you need someone to break your wrist."

At that, Jakes hand retracted swiftly and she shook her head.

Paul reached the bottom of the ladder after Melanie only to turn around and have his eyes pop with disbelief at the sight of the apparatuses he set them on. They were the stuffs his dreams were made of, they were the golden key to the pearly gates of physics paradise, and he could not believe that he had been sleeping and eating and wasting his time brushing his teeth while standing over this gold mine all this while.

"Welcome to Dr. Shere's office," Jake announced ostentatiously and then became unsure that instant. "Or is it like more of a workshop?"

"Wow!" Paul exclaimed breathlessly, as his eyes roamed the cube room with sharpened edges, decorated with items that were both useful and aesthetic still having traces of Dr. Shere's preferential taste for antiquities. Mounted on steel stands was a giant telescope with lenses the size of Gods eye, that could perhaps, see almost as far. It was the Galilean telescope mounted seven feet high and coated in bright bronze. It gave Paul the feeling that it was more of a beyond-the-ordinarily-sized trophy than a designed-for-use thing. On the other side of the room was a Pelletron Particle Accelerator, beneath a huge portrait of young Dr. Shere in MIT, with a big smile in a graduation cloak. It was the next big tool in the room and Paul wondered what model it was and what the Doctor used them for. By the wall was a shelf, holding large books, books with covers as strong and heavy as a bark, books that called him to rest on the polished brown wood of the shelf and turn pages all day, absorbing ancient smell of history and knowledge. Littered about and hanging on walls and on tables were more and more tools, most of which he didn't recognize and would not mind getting acquainted with; some of which rested on tables, like the makeshift robot arm with two fingers, mounted and set for things Paul was curious about.

But Melanie folded her arms and looked around with a frown and did not understand why Jake brought her to a nerd shrine and expected her mind to be blown in some way.

Jake observed them, and apparently could tell what was going on in their heads, and could guess what would happen if he announced to them that this was not the place he was bringing them to that this place was merely a passage. For Melanie he offered suspense, and for Paul – patience, before in the next moment, he said; "Sorry to burst your bubbles, but this is not the end of the road."

He pulled Melanie's attention, but not Paul's. He was a lost cause as his eyes roamed the contents of the shelf hungrily, like one unable to choose what to eat from a king's  buffet.

Jake laughed, walked up to him and stood.

"What?" Paul inquired with a seemingly mild annoyed tone, spurred by looming unwanted disturbance and invasion.

"Move." Jake demanded, and motioned him to move away from the shelf.

Paul shifted, and with his thumb and fingers supporting his jaw, he read the titles of the books voicelessly, moving his lips. Jake shifted and stood were Paul stood before, reached into the second-to-lowest row of the shelf and pushed a button and, like the laundry machine, the shelf moved out of the way, to reveal a fine, wide, durable door, made of the sort of steel used for vaults.

"Cliché right?" Jake asked no one in particular as he placed his hand on the door handle and then turned to Melanie, whose eyes widened in astonishment and excitement, teasingly.

"Not in reality." Paul answered him and Melanie yelled impatiently.

"Open the damn door, you fool."

Jake let out a satisfied cackle, before he pushed. Impatient Melanie peered in first before following Jake in and as soon as she entered the far more large room . . . or more appropriately, a hall, her mind was blown off.

Guns,

The hall was filled with more shelves, high and wide in four columns, two each on either side of a narrow aisle and with untold number of rows; but these shelves did not contain books. They contained guns and daggers, housed in special boxes of the shelves under individual spotlights highlighting them in a hallmark manner; guns and daggers, some of which were too pretty to be used for or likened to any evil, some of which Melanie would like to put under her pillow for when she sleeps, not for self-defense, but for the sake of admiration and cuddling.

"Oh my God," Melanie squealed incredulously. "What the . . . Shit!"

Jake giggled. "I know, right?" He asked, spun and observed their faces triumphantly, and then proceeded to gloating; "From the look on your faces, sagging jaws and all, I think it's safe to say that your minds have been blown off. Or am I wrong?"

"Shut up!" Melanie retorted cheerfully and his grin only grew wider. He did not see it coming, and so before he knew it or understood it, Melanie scooted swiftly and hugged him with lots of juicy glee and vitality, then ran off into the aisle, leaving Jake with a lingering sensation of her body where she had merged into his.

He placed a hand on his chest where his heart throbbed and massaged it softly. Turning to Paul and Melanie to find them too distracted to perceive the raging storm in him, he was grateful. He blushed slightly and breathed. He liked  he liked the feeling – he liked it a lot.

Literally running about the hall and saying things that came off as a mixture of his foreign language and other English words they couldn't quite decipher, Paul stumbled into a row and reacted with an alarming interjection; "Hei!" As a word, it sounded like "Hey" but as an exclamation, it sounded far more scared and alarming, and their instinct could suspect the meaning  or sense, instinctively, the announcement of doom; which was why Jakes heart skipped and Melanie responded with; "What is it?"

"uh . . . I don't," Paul began to say as they rushed toward him. "Know."

They entered his row and found him frozen on that spot, with widened eyes, staring skeptically at a robot or cyborg  –they could not tell – stared back at them with eyes that seemed life with thin red light in the lens. It bore resemblance to Iron Man's suit but was finished in blue and black and some areas, with steel color. It just stood there, staring back at them with a seven feet tall physique and knowing eyes that commanded them to awe at it and also get frozen with self-consciousness, curiosity, wonderment and a little stream of fear.

"Whoa!" Melanie exclaimed at the sight of it.

"Wow." Jake, too, interjected the moment he beheld it. "That . . . wasn't there before."

"Do you think it sees us?" Melanie asked, in a whisper, the question that they all had in mind.

"I don't know." Jake answered. "Can you tell?" He nudged Paul with an elbow.

"How am I supposed to know?" Paul queried and even he too spoke in a respectful whisper.

"I don't know." Jake shrugged. "you're supposed to be smart."

Paul eyed him in annoyance, sensing mockery in his words.

"I'm going to go check it out." Melanie said and was already in motion.

Paul wanted to protest and hold her back from the danger, to save her from her suicidal tendencies, but on second thought, he restrained himself instead, letting her go. She approached the machine slowly and they watched  her keenly. Step by step, she drew closer and the quietness in that moment was eerie and chilling. She was closer and Paul's eyes pushed out of their sockets as she lifted her slightly trembling hands to poke it – to poke this giant with red eyes in a futuristic arsenal, to poke something that all of their senses suspected as dangerous and she was just inches away.

"Boo!" Jake shouted and his voice echoed through the hall. Paul and Melanie jumped, but not physically.  One could only tell by the look on their faces, that Jake got them. They turned to him with threatening frowns as he laughed like a crazed clown, pointing to their faces.

"You should see your faces right now; seriously." He said and Paul clenched his fists, experiencing difficulty in holding back from punching him. "It's epic." He claimed and laughed some more. "it's just old stuff," He jeered amidst chuckles and was about to say some more when Melanie reached him and just . . . shoved his face with enveloping open palm.

It was forceful, it strained his neck, it caused him to stagger back and almost fall to the ground, and Melanie did know how effective and dangerous that technique was, but it effectively caused him to shut up, so she she didn't care.

"Ow!" Jake interjected as he struggled to and found his balance. He felt something snap in his neck and a distinct sharp pain followed, so he massaged his neck for the pain and could not tell if he should feel and show annoyance for being manhandled by a girl or . . . not. He was going to speak, but then he saw Melanie's eyes and they spoke to him, they dared him to speak or snicker a sound at the risk of receiving another harm; so he anchored his tongue.

"Good." Melanie said satisfactorily and walked past him.

He watched her walk away intimidatingly whilst still massaging his neck and then turned back to face Paul who now stood much closer to him daringly. It startled him and he moved back swiftly as if to dodge a blow, but nothing of such came subsequently. Paul merely shook his head and then followed Melanie past him.