Part 17: Day Two- Page 17
inflatablefish posted:
You don't fool us like that!
>Bounce on the bed
HECK YEAH!
>e
Upstairs Hall
There is a cord dangling in mid-air here, right about level with your face.
>s
Children's Bedroom
>Jump on bed
Behave yourself.
>NEVER!
That's not a verb I recognise.
Ghostwoods posted:
Miranda should try pulling the bed in the children's room away from the wall.
Good idea.
>pull bed
Bracing yourself, you push the bed away from the wall, revealing a ragged hole in the wood paneling.
Huh. That's odd.
>look at hole
It's about six inches wide, and looks like it was made by by someone breaking in the wall with a hammer and pulling chunks of paneling out with their bare hands.
>look into hole
In the ragged hole is a bundle of soggy pages.
>take pages.
You pick up the bundle of soggy pages. It appears to have been someone's diary. There must have been a leak at some time behind the wall where it was hidden, because most of the pages are water-logged and completely illegible. However, portions of a few entries remain untouched.
Your score has just gone up by two points.
Hooray, I guess, but what are these pages?
>read pages
Carefully, you turn the tattered pages. The handwriting is that of a young girl. You idly wonder if this might have been the diary of one of Edward Verlac's daughters -- but then you notice part of a date, just visible in the corner of the page: 1953. This must have been written, then, several years before Edward was born.
The entries that are legible read as follows:
...Father came again to my bed last night... mother doesn't... tells me I can't... to be a good daughter. Sometimes it hurts, but Father always tells me I shouldn't cry. Father says a daughter must do her Duty if she wants to get into Heaven. And I do want to get into Heaven...
Good GOD! This turned dark fast.
Of course the Verlac Family will be the core of this mystery, but Fuck it, let's start with incestuous rape! Why not?
[this entry dated 1957] ...my poor little William. Father calls him an aberration, child of the Devil, but I don't believe... locked in the attic. I go to see him whenever Father is away. I sing to him, sometimes, through the keyhole, and slip him sweets through the crack under the door... my baby is beautiful... can't let him hurt my dear baby William... to the doctor, and he has a plan... I can never... this locket, William, and I will always keep yours... to always remember my face...
Nothing else is readable except for one fragmented entry near the very end of the book, the date in the corner reading February 27, 1961:
...dead, but not dead yet... will not allow him to do to Edward what he wanted to do to William... have learned... given him the charm against the... never take it off, dear Edward... [a page has been torn away] ...fear to sleep... mist at the window --
And that's all.
I will leave speculation and deductions to you goons.
Maybe we can use these for something.
>put pages in coat
You slip the bundle of soggy pages into the pocket of your trenchcoat.
>push bed
You shove the bed back against the wall, covering the hole.
>n
Upstairs Hall
There is a cord dangling in mid-air here, right about level with your face.
>n
Library
A beautiful pair of mahogany sliding doors stand closed to the east.
Zoe posted:
Miranda was all snuggled in for some reading before her packrat sense started tingling. Go back to the library and get that book. I'm sure it's just an ordinary, potentially very valuable book.
I will admit, there are times when I play dumb dumb dumb.
When it comes to scoring points in the game, I'm reluctant to do so without your involvment, which is why the normally klepto Miranda did not grab Edgar Allen Poe last update.
>Look at shelves
Literally hundreds of books stuff the shelves, many of them thick, cracked, leather-bound tomes with ribbon place-holders and titles lettered in raised gold leaf. It would take you years to peruse them all. However, one interesting title does catch your eye. An authentic first printing of Edgar Allen Poe's Tales of Mystery and Imagination, shelved incongruously between volumes "G" and "H" of the Encyclopedia Americana.
You can hear Michael in the next room, typing away.
>Take Poe
The book sticks stubbornly at first, and, thinking that it must be tightly wedged in between the encyclopediae, you give it a fierce jerk. Suddenly, the book slides halfway out, then pops back in with a loud "snick".
Amazingly, a section of the bookshelf slides back, revealing a hidden safe.
You can hear Michael in the next room, typing away.
Your score has just gone up by one point.
Wow, that's neat. I wonder how much it cost the Verlacs to install.
>look at safe
It's a stark cube of black, oily steel, fifteen inches to a side. Its only feature is a large calibrated dial set into the front.
>turn dial to 0
The dial is only calibrated from one to sixty.
So, only 60 numbers, then.
>look at dial
The dial is calibrated from one to sixty. It is currently set to 41.
I don't know if that's a clue. The combination changes from game to game.
>Turn dial to 4
The tumblers tick quietly as you turn the dial to 4...
>turn dial to 20
The tumblers tick quietly as you turn the dial to 20...
Hmmm... Nothing.
The Verlacs weren't into recreational narcotics, then.
>
So we have a choice, Goons.
We can head up into the Attic and see what life was like for Baby William...
Or we can head down stairs and pick a room at random to explore.
And, of course, if you have other suggestions...
Please choose in Bold.
Items
In Trenchcoat
