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𝔸𝕊 Annabelle and the group gathered in the library, she moved towards the sunlight streaming through the circular window, feeling its warmth with Sammy by her side. Peter hesitated, stopping in his tracks as the light reached him. Cautiously, he stuck his finger into the light, chuckling happily when it didn't harm him, and then stepped into the sun, smiling broadly. Annabelle smiled, her spirits lifting momentarily.
However, her attention was soon drawn to Frank, who was rummaging through the shelves of books. "You looking for some light reading, Frank?" she quipped, attempting to lighten the mood. Frank, clearly annoyed and focused on his search, snapped back, "Shut the fuck up."
Annabelle sighed, sharing a confused look with the group as Frank continued his search. Finally, he spotted a book titled *And Then There Were None*. Frank smiled and pulled the book, but it simply fell into his hand, doing nothing. Peter looked at Annabelle, bewildered, while she chuckled softly, shrugging her shoulders. Frank's face twisted in disappointment and anger. Muttering under his breath, he yanked out another book, "Agatha fucking Christie. You fucking playing with me?" He threw the book, startling Sammy, and continued his tirade, "Fucking ballerina fuck. Stupid fucking dancing fucking vampire fuck!"
Annabelle rolled her eyes at his tantrum as he limped frustratingly to the steps, sitting down in the sunlight. "You good?" she asked. Frank removed his glasses, facing Annabelle, and asked, "So what the fuck now?" Annabelle considered his question and replied, "He was already healing. You saw it, too." Frank rubbed his eyes as Annabelle turned to Peter and Sammy, instructing them, "Keep an eye on the door. Stay in the light." With that, she ran to the fireplace, inspecting it for any hidden passages. Finding nothing, she turned to Frank and shook her head. She then moved to the wall adorned with portraits, knocking on it and listening for an echo. Determined, she faced the group and declared, "Grab something. We're gonna break through this wall."
A few moments later, Annabelle was still working furiously to break through the wall, blocked by sturdy planks. The group sat in the sunlight, watching her struggle with the iron stick. The frustration in the room was palpable, but Annabelle's relentless effort showed her determination to find a way out.
"Will you fucking stop already? He's not going anywhere," Frank grumbled, leaning on a pillar. Annabelle kept hitting the wall, her frustration mounting. "He's waiting for it to get dark, and then... we're fucked! Ебать!" (Fuck!) She slammed the iron stick on the ground in frustration, then slid down to sit against the wall, rubbing her temples and muttering in Russian.
Sammy looked at Annabelle with sympathy and moved to sit next to her, capturing her attention. "I'm scared," Sammy confessed. Annabelle grabbed her hand, allowing Sammy to rest her head on her shoulder. Annabelle kissed the top of Sammy's head, resting her own head against Sammy's.
