The adventures of the Horror Gang: The horrors within

Chapter fourty-three: The man who hung up his dreams

Alex pressed forward through his shock, and into another vent once more. This one felt colder and the scent of death filled his lungs and although he held his lighter near him, no amount of warmth from the tiny flame could outweigh the chilling sensations felt throughout his entire body. Luckily, this vent was shorter than the last, meaning he could find the source.
With much determination and strength he made his way out of the second vent, although he should of stayed as this room was much colder and much deader. Alex turned his attention to the withered corpse in the room. His long stick like legs, covered in black trousers, were motionless, the only movement from them were from the draft in the room, which also made a hat fly onto the floor and blow over to Alex's feet. He shivered from the cold and uncomfortable scenario he was in and touched the piece of clothing.
He looked down at the black cap, confused. Was it his? Or was it someone else's?
No.
He was the only other person in the room, although it felt odd to say that as he wasn't alive.

"Is this....yours?" Alex asked, knowing he wouldn't get an answer. "I guess it would be" he said, looking at the hat. "Are-were you..." he stopped, knowing it was a stupid question and he was talking to a dead body so he wouldn't get an answer anyway. He had been here for probably more than an hour and he was already going insane. He lowered his head, taking one last look at The Hanging Man and dragged the hat across the room and below a gold hook nailed into the wall.
He looked back, glancing at the chair beneath the lifeless body and a small smile came to his lips as his head filed with an idea.

He ran over to the wooden chair, grabbed hold of the leg and dragged it over to the hat, placing the piece of clothing onto its surface, and with all his might, pushed the seat against the wall, climbing it and grabbing the hat once more as he looked up at the hook.

It was still too tall for him to reach, the curved edge hung just a few inches away from him as he stretched his hands towards it, but, with no luck, he returned his hands to his sides and thought.

"How could I do this?" He questioned, staring into the dark pit of the hat, his eyes widened as a plan came to his mind as he stared at the rim, "That's how" he replied and grasped hold of the object once more, heaving it over his head.

"Come on" he said, gritting his teeth, while also trying not to loose his balance and fall off the chair, with much effort and the aching of his feet as he stood on the tips of his toes, he managed to hook the hat onto the edge of the hanger.
Alex stepped back, viewing his effort.

"There" he said, looking in the direction of The Hanging Man once more and smiled. He knew that the man was known for his mysterious death but he should be respected so, if it was his hat or not, if it was the last thing he owned he deserved to have it taken care of, even if it wasn't by him.

He may of been the man who was hung, but, even in the Maw, they are still people.

And even they have dreams to.
Even if they're not their own.

Alex jumped down off of the chair, dragging it over to the door across from him, shoving it's back against the door and climbing onto it, pulling down the handle, revealing the next room.

"Why am I not surprised" Alex said, "No exit"
He got down off of the wooden structure and through the doorway, searching the gloomy space, but only desks, pots and pans and cots with ripped mattresses greeted him.

Then he heard faint scuffling, followed by a small figure with a triangular head and wooden features. Alex turned, catching a glimpse of the figure as it ran into the shadows of the room.

"Hey!" He called, but he was met with silence.