The Mansion of Solitude

Frank pov


I wake up to a pounding headache and every limb aching. Slowly I open my eyes and am met with darkness. I rub my eyes, trying to focus my vision. It doesn't work. I still am surrounded by the darkness engulfing me. I feel a shooting pain in my leg when I try to move. I wipe my hand over where the shooting pain and feel a wetness on my fingers. I can't see what it is, but I'm assuming it's blood. The pain still lingers, but I try to push through it.

The ground is cold, wet and hard. When I run my fingers along it, I feel tiny pieces of wood piercing my skin. Splinters. I've always hated them. Tiny pieces of wood sheltering in your skin, causing you so much pain even though they're so tiny. Sometimes even the tiniest things can cause an extreme amount of pain.

When I try to stand up the pain in my leg only becomes worse and my vision becomes blurry. I wave my hands in the air, trying to gain balance. The first few times I try to stand up, I immediately fall down. Determined, I finally get up and grab the first thing I can find for support.

Where am I?

How did I get here?

I try to make out anything that's surrounding me. I can only see vague outlines of what looks like old furniture. I begin to blindly walk around, holding onto the wall for support. The wall feels dented and like it's made of wood. There is something on top and I can't tell if it's paint or wallpaper. I Slide my hands along the wall, looking for a switch. Whenever I feel so,ething I get scared because who knows what the fuck could be on these foreign walls. I flinch a little when I feel an outline of what feels like a light switch. I flick the switch and the lights suddenly turn on.

The light is one that you would see in a room where you are getting surgery. White and bright. Definitely not a calming light either, it makes you feel on edge. Like I need more of that feeling, im already lost in this place and not exactly feeling calm.

Falling to the ground, I cover my eyes. The light burns them. I look down at my leg and see a huge gash across it. There's dried up blood coating most of it, but it doesn't look infected. Yet. I wonder how long it'll be until it's infected, pus oozing out of the cut in my leg. The infection might even kill me, I mean unless something kills me before the infection can. I also look down at my fingers, and splinters are already deep inside of most of fingers, but those are the least of my worries right now.

The room is a dark purple, with the wallpaper hanging off of it. So it is wallpaper. There's scratches and dents in the walls and vulgar language written across the wallpaper. The floor is stained with blood and vomit. Piles of mold rot in the corners of the room.

There is a single bed frame without the mattress sitting in the corner. The bed is dented and rusty. The springs are broken and the bed looks as if it's about to collapse any second.

There's old chairs and dressers flipped over, broken and scattered throughout the room. Hanging on the wall to my right is a bloody knife. I wonder whose blood it is. Hanging on the wall to my left is a gun. The thought of what they're there for sends a shiver down my spine. Directly underneath the knife sits a body.
Wait. A body?

It's a man, and his eyes are closed. He has filthy black hair that is covering his face and a tattered black jacket with jeans. I don't see any signs that he's living, but I go to check his pulse just to make sure. There's a faint pulse and I decide whether or not to kill him right now. He could be dangerous. Or..he could be the one to help me get out of this fucking room.

When his arm slightly moves, I flinch ready for anything. I back away and wait for him to wake up. When he wakes, he rubs his eyes and pushes his disgusting hair out of his face. He has a frightened look in his eyes, and gives me a scared look. He has murky hazel eyes and a pale complexion. He also has bags under his bloodshot eyes.

"Where am I?" He asks, in a voice that was meant to be confident.

"I-I don't know," I stutter, looking around. "I just woke up."

He grunts and begins to look around. When he turns, he screams out in agony and falls to the floor.
I rush over to him.

"Are you ok?"

"No." He says back, his face twisting as he tries to get through the pain.

"What hurts?"

He turns over and points to the back of his neck. There's a note written across it. It looks like it's been carved into the back of his neck with a knife. What if the knife hanging above him was used for that? If that happened I must of woken up under the gun. Maybe that's where my gash on my leg came from. I look at the note on his neck and it reads:

FRANK, IN ORDER TO SURVIVE YOU MUST KILL GERARD BY THE END OF THE TRIALS. IF YOU FAIL THIS TASK, YOU WILL FACE DEATH. GOOD LUCK.

I stare at the note, not saying anything. What are the trials?

"What's wrong with my neck?" He asks.

"N-nothing." I respond.

"Just rest for now, when the pain dies down, we can try to find a way out of here."

He nods and opens his mouth to speak again.

"What's your name?" He asks.

"Frank."

"I'm Gerard." I nod, even though I already knew that.

"What's that?" He asks, pointing to something sitting in the center of the room.

I get up and walk towards it. It's a bottle with note in it.

"What is it?" He asks again.

I pick up the bottle and take the cork out.

"It's-it's a note," I begin. "From the makers of this place."

Notes

New story! Don't worry I'm still updating Subject 23-Z I just had the idea for this story so I wanted to write it. Im planning on making it very gory, and the plot is going to be a little bit like Saw, but still very, very different.

Anyways, I hope you liked the chapter

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