The PREDATOR And PREY

chapter 4

JEMESON

Jameson gave a smirk. "Told you it wouldn't be hidden. They always make it a little too obvious when the stakes are this high." He reached for it.

Grayson stepped forward sharply, grabbing his brother's arm. "Wait. If they're guiding us, it's not that simple." He glanced at the poem again. "We need to lift it under the light-not just touch it."

Avery stepped closer, examining the goblet. "The reflection-look. If you tilt it, the light catches the surface." She reached for the goblet carefully, lifting it high so the chandelier's light hit the silver surface at just the right angle. The wine inside, dark and still, caught the reflection of the flame above, glowing ominously.

"The wine reflects the flame," Grayson whispered. "It's just like the poem said."

Jameson, intrigued, watched as the reflected light danced on the goblet's surface. "So, what happens now?" he asked, leaning in closer.

Just as he finished speaking, a soft click echoed through the hall. The heavy, gilded doors across the room creaked open with a low groan, revealing a dark corridor beyond.

Avery set the goblet down, breathing out in relief. "It worked."

"Of course it did," Grayson said, the faintest hint of satisfaction in his voice. "The puzzle was clear. Find the goblet, lift it beneath the light, and the reflection would open the door."

Jameson chuckled, clapping his brother on the back. "You overthink everything, Gray. Sometimes it's as easy as lifting a cup."

"Not when your life depends on it," Grayson replied coolly, his eyes still scanning the hall, making sure they hadn't missed anything.

Avery smiled, stepping towards the open door. "Let's hope the next room is as straightforward."

"Doubt it," Jameson muttered, but he was already following her through the door, curiosity piqued.

Grayson lingered for a second, casting one last glance at the silver goblet. "Nothing in this place is straightforward," he said quietly, before following them into the next mystery.

Leaving The hall that is alive with memories, echoes of something dark and forgotten, and it feels as if it is testing you, daring you to unravel its mysteries. But you know, deep down, that to do so would be to court disaster.

AVERY

Grayson, Jameson, and Avery stepped through the heavy, gilded doors into the second hall, only to be met with a suffocating silence. This new hall was even larger than the first, its ceiling impossibly high, disappearing into darkness. But something was wrong, terribly wrong.

Avery's heart pounded as she glanced around, her skin prickling with unease. It wasn't just the size of the room. There was something more sinister, something dangerous in the air. Then it hit her-a faint, metallic scent. Blood.

"Does anyone else smell that?" Avery whispered, her voice barely audible.

Jameson, usually cocky and quick with a joke, was unusually silent. His eyes were narrowed, scanning the room for any sign of a threat. "Yeah," he muttered, his voice tight. "I smell it."

Grayson, ever composed, stepped forward, his gaze sweeping across the expanse of the hall. But Avery could see the tension in his jaw, the way his hands were balled into fists at his sides. "This room..." he started, his voice low, calculating. "It's waiting for something."

"Yeah, for us," Jameson said bitterly, his usual bravado cracking slightly. He pointed to the walls, lined with ancient mechanisms. Old gears and levers, rusted with age, but still intact. Avery followed his gaze and felt her stomach drop as she realized what those mechanisms were attached to-arrows. Dozens of them, embedded into the walls, waiting for the slightest trigger.

"They're rigged," Grayson said, his voice cold as steel. "This hall isn't just watching us like the last one. It's... waiting."

Avery took a deep breath, her mind racing. She felt like they were standing on the edge of something dark and irreversible, like the room itself had been built to claim them, as if the entire mansion had been leading them here from the start. "It feels like it's been waiting for a long time," she murmured. "Like this room was designed for us."

"it is designed for us," Grayson corrected, his voice clipped.

Jameson shot his brother a look. "That's comforting, Gray. Really. Any other pearls of wisdom? Or are we just going to stand here and wait to be skewered?"

Avery could feel the panic rising in her chest, but she forced herself to stay calm. "There has to be a way through this," she said, her voice steady. "The first hall had a puzzle. This one has to have something too."

Grayson nodded, his eyes locked on the old mechanisms. "The arrows-look at the way they're arranged. They're part of a trap, but they're also... organized. It's deliberate, like they're guiding us."

Jameson laughed, though it was strained. "Guiding us? To what, our deaths?"

Avery swallowed hard, feeling the weight of the situation press down on her. Every instinct screamed at her to get out, to run, but there was no going back. The door behind them had sealed shut the moment they entered. "No," she said, more to herself than anyone else. "There's a way out. There has to be."

Grayson was already thinking ahead, his mind piecing together the clues. "This is another test. The mansion wants to see if we can survive."

"Great," Jameson muttered. "Because that worked out so well for everyone else."
"We don't even know that they'll let us out after we solve it gray, what if letting us out is not in their plans even if we solve the puzzle"

But Grayson ignored him, his eyes darting to the floor. "Look," he said sharply. "The tiles. Some of them are darker than the others." " IT doesn't matter jemison If they don't have any plans to let us out" "We, are not on the mercy of their plans." Grayson emphasized on "WE" a little too hard.

Avery followed his gaze, her breath catching. He was right. The floor was made of alternating tiles, some lighter, some darker, but the pattern seemed off-too deliberate. It was a path. A path through the hall.

"They're the safe tiles," Grayson said, his voice low, focused. "Step on the wrong one, and the mechanism will trigger the arrows."

Jameson stared at the floor, then back at Grayson. "You better be right about this, Gray. Because if you're not-"

"We won't make it out of here," Grayson finished for him, his expression hard. "I know."

Avery's heart pounded in her chest as she looked at the floor, her pulse in her throat. "We have no other choice," she said quietly. "We have to follow the path."

Grayson nodded, stepping forward cautiously. "I'll go first."

Jameson snorted, but it lacked his usual arrogance. "Of course you will."

With measured precision, Grayson took his first step onto one of the darker tiles. The floor creaked under his weight, but nothing happened. No arrows, no trap. Avery held her breath as Grayson took another step, then another. Still, the hall remained silent, but the tension was unbearable, as if the room was holding its breath with them.

Jameson followed, his steps less graceful but equally careful. "If we die here, Gray, I'm going to haunt you."

Avery smiled faintly despite the fear clawing at her chest. "Let's not die, then."

Together, the three of them began to cross the hall, moving in a silent, calculated line. With every step, Avery could feel the room's anticipation, like it was waiting for them to make one mistake, one wrong move. But with Grayson's steady lead and the unsettling quiet of the second hall pressing down on them, they advanced, inch by inch, toward the next door, toward whatever new horror awaited them.