“Here, Miri. Let me help you up.”

Wil grabs my right hand and hoists me up into the room. My left hand is pressed against the hard floor, pushing myself up. I bring my knees to the floor, successfully managing to clamber into the room with Wil’s aid.

I stand up, composing myself before taking a good look around. I definitely recognise this room; after all, we have been here before – though it is a lot messier now, almost as if a tornado had hit it recently and no one bothered to clean up after.

The once neat stack of chairs is now lying on the floor, scattered all over. Some of the plastic chairs have holes in them, resembling to what a strong acid would do to plastic. Others are cracked and broken. Merely one chair is still in good condition.

Shattered pieces of glass are strewn all over the floor. Broken glass beakers, conical flasks, test tubes and other lab equipment that are made of glass lie near the numerous shards of glass. Just under the wreckage is some sort of clear liquid that reflects the light. Not knowing what it is, I decide to steer clear of it.

The tables are littered with crumpled pieces of paper of all sizes, both lined and plain paper, as well as uncapped pens and markers, mostly black, blue and red. The cabinets are shattered and all the equipment in it is not in their positions any longer. If anything, they are everything but.

“I’ll be in the next room if you want anything,” Key says, addressing no one in particular.

She disappears into the next room, which is the home office, if I am remembering correctly. I sigh, silently debating with myself whether or not I should follow her. The curiosity to know what she is doing is gnawing at me, but at the same time, I feel bad for intruding on her. Perhaps she wants to be alone to complete her task at hand.

“Let’s just go,” Wil says to me. “It’s not like we have anything better to do here anyway.”

Looks like I have my answer.

I shrug nonchalantly, complying with his request. As I enter the office, I realise that, similar to the lab, it is much messier than it used to be. And that Key, who claimed to be here merely seconds ago, has vanished.

The table has several tall stacks of papers – documents, I suppose – and several journals. Some stray pieces of paper lie scattered on the ground, several torn at the corners. I turn back and notice that the wall separating the two rooms is back in place. Perhaps Aries and Aristelle have something private to discuss.

I’ve also realised that the arcane family portrait hung behind the office table is gone. I wonder who took it down and why.

“The door is locked,” Wil informs me, referring to the door that leads from this room to the rest of the house.

I nod in reply, not particularly interested in leaving the room anyway. It’s not worth the risk.

My eyes dart around the room, trying to figure out where Key could possibly have went. After all, there are not many places to hide in here. Outside, although possible, would be highly unlikely. Besides, she herself said that she would be in this room. She wouldn’t lie, would she?

The question remains. Where is Key?

My gaze lands on a small opening in the space between the front of the office table and the leather chair. It is dark, as are all other tunnels we have been into, but I can see a short drop before the stairs begin their descent, the end devoured by the darkness.

Seriously. What’s up with this family and tunnels?

“I think she is in here,” I say, pointing towards the tunnel.

Wil appears by my side so quickly that it is almost like he teleported there. Or maybe he has been here all along. I just did not notice. “Then let’s go,” he says, sounding anxious, almost like he’s in a rush. I wonder what’s the hurry.

It takes me a while to realise that he is replying to my assumption of Key’s whereabouts.

“Sure.”

He gestures towards the tunnel, a soundless invitation to me to enter. Tentatively, I sit at the edge of the entrance, my legs dangling below me, not coming in contact with solid ground. The drop must be deeper than I thought it would be. I sincerely doubt it would a dangerous fall though, will it? After all, it the stairs begins from where I am sitting, we would be banging out heads against the table as we walk. Also, if the fall to the ground is fatal, this tunnel would not be here in the first place.

I push myself off the ledge and fall to the bottom of the pit. My feet hit the hard ground. A surge of dizziness hits me as I come in contact with the floor. I stumble, quickly collecting myself after that.

I take in my surroundings. Just ahead of me is a flight of spiral stairs, dimly lit by wall lights. I move to the side, allowing Wil to jump down, reaching out to feel the stone wall to keep myself from falling. It feels rough and moist beneath my skin. It’s almost as if water is leaking from a pipe somewhere and trickling onto these walls.

The sound of Wil’s shoes slapping against the hard concrete resounds through the passage. A moment of silence passes between the both of us and, nearly instantaneously, there is a unanimous and a mutual agreement to proceed down the staircase.

I walk ahead of Wil, never taking my hand off the wall for both balance and guidance. Wil follows closely from behind. I descend each step with utmost caution, not wanting to slip on any of the damp steps. I am also not too keen of the idea of tumbling down who-knows-how-many steps. After all, we don’t know how long this goes.

I take a step forward, expecting to go down yet another step, but surprised to find only flat land. We have reached the bottom of the stairwell. I move to the side and Wil comes to my right side.

I can hear the distinct sound of someone flipping hurriedly through books, papers or files. My eyes quickly land on Key’s silhouette. As I approach her, something clicks in my mind and a certain memory comes crashing down on me. I won’t say that the particular memory neither daunting nor terrifying, but I won’t say that it’s particularly pleasant either.

“Stay in here,” one of the staff in the facility – I had given up remembering all their names; there were just too many of them – informed me.

I nodded, expecting to enter yet another simulation room.

The door closed behind me, as it always did, and I let out an exhausted sigh. Finally deciding to examine the room, my eyes darted around the space, my eyebrows knitted in the slightest shock and confusion when I realised that the room I was currently in was not a simulation room of any sort, not even in the slightest. In fact, for the first time in what seemed like forever, I was put in a pretty normal-looking room.

Situated directly in the heart of the room was an office table and a grey plastic chair. Other than that, however, the room was empty, which was hardly surprising considering its relatively small size.

I approached the chair and table cautiously, afraid of whatever hidden traps that might have been laid out for me, especially if I wasn’t careful. I sat on the chair, grateful to be sitting in an actual chair for a change, before resting my arms on the wooden table. I ran my fingers across the smooth surface of the table, my lips curved up ever so slightly.

“What’s this?” I asked, unintentionally voicing my thoughts, my eyes fixed on the book placed in front of me.

The book was neither thick nor was it thin. If I were to guess, I would say that the book was, in the very least, two hundred pages. The cover was a sleek black in, and made out of leather. The pages were sewn together with thick, white thread and the pages were cream in colour, looking like that of the recycled paper that was used avidly during the day in an attempt to save trees.

This must be a book that was published quite a while ago for it to be assembled by hand, from the looks of it anyway. But then again, it might look that was because the book was falling apart and the owner wanted to salvage its contents. What was I talking about? Books, although still manufactured in small amounts and were rather pricey, were considered obsolete and an antique.

So, why was there a book in front of me? Was this some kind of test?

Tentatively, I reached for the book, bringing it nearer to me. I opened it, looking for some sort of title page or introduction. Successfully managing to locate it, my eyes skimmed through its contents as quickly as possible, for fear of getting caught examining items that weren’t mine, in an attempt to grasp the gist of the handwritten passage.

I was not too sure what was written, even after I skimmed it, so I reread the passage, at a slower speed this time around, determined to find out what was written in this book.

Introduction

The world we live always had, and will forever have, its own mysteries. No man can ever decipher the hidden message buried deep within the core of the Earth, try as they might. However, our planet does, occasionally, decide to gracefully reveal things about our history and our world in general, bit by bit, in many different forms.

For your convenience and to quench your quest for knowledge, we have compiled our research into several volumes and published them. We have simplified any and all scientific terms used so that everyone, no matter what their age, can read and understand it. After all, everyone has the right to know the secrets of Earth.

Happy reading.

David Hall

Head of Department of Historical Research

Department of historical research? I thought our community were taught to forget the past and strive for a better future? Wasn’t everyone brought up to believe that there was no point in dwelling on the past?

“It’s all just a myth. A theory,” a person said,

Startled, I pushed the book forward, not wanting to be seen reading it, and it dropped to the floor with a thud. My hands dropped to my sides, my gaze on the table in front of me, not wanting to come in eye contact with the only other person in the room. I definitely recognised the voice.

“You don’t need to hide it. I can see curiosity in your eyes,” he observed.

I gulped, biting my lower lips, willing myself not to break down. He radiated an intimidating aura, but it might be because I never had a good experience with him and thus, I learnt to steer clear of him.

I guess one could call him the ‘boss’, the person in-charge of the whole project.

“Take that back to your room. Read it,” he commanded, his tone final. There was no negotiating with him.

My heart skipped a beat, slightly shocked by his statement. I would say that it was a pleasant surprise, but I would just be lying to myself as the meeting with him in itself was a terrifying experience. Perhaps they cancel out each other.

He headed towards me and my whole body tensed up, bracing myself for whatever he had coming. He bent down and retrieved the book from the floor. He held it in his hands, flipping through it quickly, the sound resounding throughout the room.

He slammed the book on the table, creating a loud sound, and pushed it so that it was directly in front of me. He reached out and placed his fingers on my chin, forcefully pushing my head up so that I was looking directly at him, his fingernails digging into my skin. “Read this,” he repeated.

I nodded. “Yes, sir,” I replied, knowing I had no choice or else I would have to suffer the consequence, my voice breaking.

“Good. The workers will take you back to your room.”

And with that, he exited the room, leaving me in a complete daze.

The underground room is surprisingly well-lit, thanks to the amount of lights placed in the room. The lighting in the room creates a warm and cosy ambience, like what one would expect in a mini library. Bookcases that reach the ceiling line the walls. Most of the shelves are full of books, though several shelves are completely empty. A relatively large table is pushed up against the rough stone wall at the back of the room, situated between two bookcases, a table lamp sitting atop it. Three chairs are lined up in front of the table.

“Key,” Wil says, announcing our presence in the home library.

Key quickly replaces the book she is holding back onto the empty space in the bookcase. She turns around and looks straight at us. Her lips are quivering; she chews on her lower lip, almost like she is trying to stop herself from bursting out into the tears.

“Are you okay?” I ask, uncertain of how she would react to my question.

She straightens herself. “Yes, I am fine.” Each word that comes out of her mouth seems forced. “Come here.”

She turns around to face the bookshelves once again, pulling out a book and paging through it. We make a beeline towards her, our footsteps echoing through the room.

“This is what I came here to find. Look at this.”

Key hands Wil the book she is holding. I look at the page she is pointing to and let out a startled cry.

On the page is a picture of a boy. His black hair is tousled and shiny, just like his hair is waxed, and it falls over his pale forehead. His brown eyes have a certain kind of sparkle in them, full of life and excitement. His smile is so dazzling that I am certain that he just had the best day of his life the day this photograph was taken.

But all in all, and I am not going to lie, he seems familiar. A feeling of déjà vu washes over me. I wonder why.

I steal a glance at Wil and realisation strikes me like a tsunami wave. I understand why the boy in the picture seems so familiar to me, almost like I have seen him before.

He bears an uncanny resemblance to Wil, although I can tell distinctly that he is not. His complexion and the way he carries himself is not the same as Wil’s. However, to the untrained eye, they can easily be mistaken as twins, or perhaps even the same person. I, however, know Wil too well to be tricked by a mere photograph.

“That is not Wil,” I say accusingly. “Who is that? What are you trying to tell us?”

“That, Miri,” Key starts, her composed demeanour back once again, “is Aries and Aristelle’s late brother. His name is Aaron.”


Hey all! I know I have not been updating as fast as I promised. But I really have been busy this week (and last week and next week as well) so I hope you will bear with me until the upcoming events on my calendar is over.

My midterm holidays are coming up in three weeks so I'll have more time to write then. Anyway, I have to go now. I have too many things to do. Bye! Don't forget to vote, comment and follow me so that you can stay up to date with my upcoming projects and such. Have a good week :)

PS anyone wants a dedication?