The Mansion of Trials and Trials

The Master

Slowly, orange, yellow sunlight in the afternoon shone on the triple lens of a telescope, forming shades and dark hues on the beneath ground. The glass on the white checker frames still sparked out brightly like the eclipse of the sun and moon. Significantly odd but mystical. The tiny fennec fox, Coffee struggled and shoveled its head through the gap of an open door. It jumped and hopped inside this fascinating Observatory. The only difference between this place compared to a few days before, that was, the books and jigsaw puzzles were placed tidily on the shelves along with the globes and scrolls. Mel had tidied the Observatory neatly before the gathering of the Residents started. He was excellent at tidying, either it meant the normal housekeeping or the corpses. Despite the fact that this Mansion was capable of creating things out of reality, there was not a limit to the number of things you can do in the mansion, yet Mel still enjoyed tidying the floors and shelves the best. It made him feel cozy and comfortable. It was his habit, he had a bit of being a perfectionist when cleaning things. He had retained his old habit when he was the human garderer, Melvyn Carter. To be honest, two of the third chores of this Mansion was accomplished by Mel. Knock and Puppet did the last part while Sol remained to be the lazy one. He and his fox was always making the room messy, although he did have the talent to design trials and monitor them. Sol was a front-liner after all. The days without the trials were more than the trials were ongoing. They hated to admit it though.

Opening the door wide, Sol touched his hair and curled it softly. His hair was getting longer. Perhaps he could consider having a haircut. Although the Residents were immortal and had endless lives, it was still a mystery of why their hair grew. His stitches were as notable as usual. Sol never had the intention to hide it by using make-up. He enjoyed people staring at his sewed stitches on his arms and face. He was a man of attention. Above all, it was the trials and the rules of this Mansion which turned him into a zombie monster. Between choosing to become a human or Resident, he would definitely choose the latter. There were too many rules being human, you have to be polite and obedient, or else the police and lawyers would come and capture you. For being a Resident, there were only five rules.

1. Residents must not leave this Mansion.

2. Residents must not leak any information about the secrets behind the trials to the Wanderers.

3. Residents must design the trials for the Wanderers to participate.

4. Residents must obey the Master of the Mansion.

5. As long the rules above are followed, Residents can use, do or say anything in this Mansion.

Compared to the humans, being a Resident aside from being trapped in this Mansion forever, there was much more freedom and authority. The Master of this Mansion was indeed kind and generous. He seldom commanded the Residents. Yet, on the other hand, when he did command the Residents was when he was......

"You're late." Puppet crossed her arms, frowning at the shadow of stitches. She didn't like waiting, especially at this important moment of time.

"I apologize, Puppet. I got interested when talking to the Wanderers." Sol replied. He always felt lost in time.

"It doesn't matter. You're still late. It's the Master's emergency call. You can't be late, you know."

"Puppet's right," Knock agreed. He stood in his human form. "The Master is calling us. You are always stepping on the lines of the rules. Don't be so happy even the Master likes and favor you."

"Hehe......I thought he likes everyone, each of every Resident in this Mansion. Besides, it's fine that I am late, I am not the one who is stepping on the rules this time...........Knock. You know why we are called, don't you?" Sol giggled.