House of Trap

13 | Chance at Redemption

There was something eerie about this diary entry, and Maddie couldn't decode what it was. She would need Damon's help to decipher whether the person's writing style could give away any clues, but that plan was out of the window. The chances of there being a blizzard in the Sahara desert had a higher probability compared to attaining Damon's help. But perhaps she could try.

She couldn't tell whether the person writing this entry was angry at Steven for causing the change, or whether he or she was trying to poorly express a different expression.

She didn't realize her fingers were semi trembling as she turned over the page. The cursive handwriting was very beautiful and elegant—one would think it belonged to a girl at first glance.

"What if the Game Master is a girl?" A random thought popped into her mind. The Game Master could be using a voice changing device. Nowadays, one could use shoulder pads to appear broader. With the thought fixated there, she continued reading the second entry.

Smile.
Everyone smiled.
Though we were clothed in black,
Though the tears rolled off our cheeks,
Though we sealed our lips shut,
Though we saw his body hidden within the coffin,
Everyone smiled.

The more Maddie read, the more frightened she became. Whoever wrote this had strong feelings towards Steven, though she wasn't sure what their relationship was. It did not narrow the Game Master's identity to one particular person considering they had all been close to Steven at one point or another.

Her focus shifted to the shuffling sound against the staircase, and she was alerted at once. What if it was the Game Master? What if she was going to get killed? Her chest rose with sheer panic, quickly looking for anything to use as a weapon. Definitely not the notebook.

"Hey."

The voice was familiar and so soft, Maddie was amazed by its magical ability to erase every single one of her worries. She looked up, watching as Ethan properly entered the attic once again. His eyes fell on the notebook in her hand, but he never questioned it.

"What are you doing?" He asked instead, eyes watching the empty space beside her.

Maddie immediately knew his true intention and quickly moved the oil lamp aside, clearing some space for him to sit closely against herself. Her heart started thumping louder and faster, and she wasn't sure whether it was caused by the notebook's revelation or Ethan's arrival.

"I... Err... I was just reading a book. It helps me to calm down." Maddie used the same excuse as before. She quickly hid the book behind her to conceal it from his sight. "What about you?"

"I was patrolling the house."

Maddie raised an eyebrow at the unexpected answer.

"Sometimes I wonder whether those locked doors will ever be opened. I like to go around the house, checking if maybe, perhaps, a door will be opened today," Ethan said, and there was that painful glint in his gaze. He must've felt caged inside, like the rest of them were—caged as puppets to the Game Master's huge dollhouse.

"Aren't you scared? Do you have no fear?" Maddie asked, eyes continuing to watch him from such a close distance.

The light flickered seamlessly against the shades of his face, outlining his sharp jawline as he gazed in front of him. The attic was so quiet she could hear the friction of his shirt rubbing against its own material when he made the slightest movement to turn to her. He was unbelievably handsome.

"I am afraid I no longer possess any feelings of fear ever since I lost my brother during the accident," he spoke, and his tone was woven with so much longing and regret towards the unattained. He did not have to elaborate for her to know what he was talking about. Everyone remembered what they genuinely wished to forget.