2 — The Uninvited Guest Of The Haunted Mansion (2)

“Ugh, ha.”

Swoosh.

After her painful groan, the sound of water flushing followed.

Serenity emerged from the bathroom, wiping her tear-filled, reddened eyes.

‘Still, at least it’s an amount I can manage. That’s a relief.’

It wasn’t some monthly ritual, and vomiting every time her life reset wasn’t pleasant, but it was a hundred times better than being torn apart. Just last month, there had been a feast twice as lavish as today’s, and she had truly thought she might die.

Plop. Plop-plop.

The sound of acorns tapping against the window. The gloomy morning had finally given way to rain.

Serenity stopped at the window in the powder room adjoining her bedroom and looked out. With the mist blanketing the world, the fourth-floor view felt higher than ever.

Her eyes wandered. The mansion’s distant gate stood hazy in the rain. The heavy iron bars were firmly shut, guards stationed in front of them. Beyond the grim gate stretched the faint outline of the ashen city.

She couldn’t tell whether the world truly was that color, or if it only appeared so from here.

She had never been beyond those gates. Ridiculous, considering she’d looped ten times already… but true nonetheless.

In this story, ‘Serenity Primdellrose’ was the count’s only daughter, a fragile child since birth. For a simple rule-based horror story, the backstory was annoyingly detailed.

The mansion and the anomalies within always prevented her escape. But Serenity was certain: if she ever made it past those iron bars, she’d be one step closer to freedom.

That was how these legends usually worked. Survive the rules, escape the boundaries.

She pinned her hopes on that.

“Of all days, why does it have to rain today of all days?”

Serenity muttered with frustration.

“I have a bad feeling…”

Her uneasy whisper was cut short by the clock tower chiming eleven. Straightening her dress, she smoothed her bare face, and left the room.

She arrived at the Count’s study, where he sat poised over paperwork.

“Oh, Serenity. What brings you here? Have you come to see your father?”

“Yes, Father. I’m sorry for leaving the table early this morning.”

“Don’t trouble yourself; you ate plenty. As I always say, I care only that you stay healthy.”

‘This, from the same man who once laughed as the Countess’s fangs shredded my mouth…?’

Serenity forced a demure smile and handed him the newspaper she’d brought, dated three days earlier.

“It’s nothing much, but I saw this article. Tonight, the auction house is presenting the ‘Sage’s Diamond.’ They say it belonged to a sage… I’d love to see it. May I go?”

The Count’s gaze dropped with interest to the page.

Serenity pressed her advantage quickly.

“It isn’t far. A reputable auction house in the market district. Less than thirty minutes by carriage. It’s such a rare opportunity…”

“Our daughter is finally showing interest in jewels.”

“It isn’t just any jewel, Father.”

“Yes, yes. The ‘Sage’s Diamond,’ is it?”

The Count smiled kindly. Serenity narrowed her eyes in silence.

…Would he permit it?

“But Serenity, in weather like this it’s easy to catch cold. And you’ve never been to an auction house.”

He smiled warmly.

“If you truly want it, I’ll send a retainer to bid. He can bring it back for you. Wouldn’t that suffice?”

Exactly as she expected. He wouldn’t grant her leave so easily.

Serenity clasped her hands and pleaded pitifully.

“Please, Father. I want to see it and bid myself. I’m twenty now. Among the young ladies of my age, I’m probably the only one who has never been to an auction.”

“Still, no. It’s raining today, isn’t it?”

“I’ll return quickly. Please?”

“…Serenity.“

Crack.

The quill in his hand split with a faint tearing sound. Serenity froze, eyes darting to his hand.

On the desk lay a grotesque thing… veins bulging red like thorn bushes.

“Didn’t I say no, daughter?”

Damn.

‘Another failed run.’

Her lips clamped shut.

“Serenity, you’re twenty now. You’re past the age of childish tantrums. If you continue to demand what cannot be, your father will be forced to discipline you.”

If she hadn’t known that ‘discipline’ meant the thorn whip that tore flesh from bone, could she have pushed further?

Her expression almost contorted, but she forced it down, lips trembling into a smile.

“…Yes, I’m sorry, Father.“

“Well then, anything more to say?”

“No, nothing.”

“I’m glad you understand a father’s concern for your health. You may go.”

His grotesque hand faded back to human form as quickly as it had appeared.

Serenity curtsied and slipped out.

‘…What is this, the fortieth time?’

Another failure. She’d have to wait yet another week. Glaring up at the dark sky, she thought bitterly of searching the papers again for some excuse to leave.

The rain beat harder as she returned to her room.

What had sounded like acorns before now ripped sharply against the glass. Mist thickened until even the garden outside was gone from view. The briny tang of water seemed to seep inside, pricking at her nose.

“…“

She slumped into her desk chair and pulled a blank-covered book from a drawer. Half an inch thick, it contained the ‘rules’ of the mansion.

She stared at it a long while before adding to rule number seven, ‘Conversation with the Count.’ The pages, filled with countless failed attempts, made her chest ache.

*7. *Conversation with the Count

Social gathering, failed.

Monsoon relief activities, failed.

Ball, failed.

Sage’s Diamond, auction house, failed.

By contrast, many sections remained untouched, with no notes at all.

Aside from the basic rules, most were her own additions… dangers she had discovered within the mansion. The only solace was that no matter how many loops she endured, the records never vanished. Sometimes, new rules even appeared, describing events she hadn’t yet faced herself.

‘The problem is, except for a handful, I can’t remember why half these rules are written at all…’

It made sense. She couldn’t possibly memorize the dozens… hundreds… scattered throughout this legend.

Her finger idly flicked the page’s edge as she flipped through. The ‘Main Building’ and ‘Family’ sections were packed, while ‘Annex’ and ‘Servants’ were half-empty. ‘Beyond the Fence’ was completely blank.

‘Beyond the fence*… *can I even get out there?’

Serenity traced the page’s edge in thought.

“Miss, miss!”

A maid burst in, curly brown hair bouncing. At first glance her skin looked fair, but her joints were fitted with wooden spheres in place of cartilage.

“Oh my! I’m sorry! You’re using that again?”

“It’s just my little secret hobby.”

Serenity replied casually.

Nia blinked her unnaturally large eyes and exaggerated a shrug. Each giggle made her wooden joints creak.

“Miss, you really have so many secrets. Studying foreign languages behind the Count’s back…”

“Father worries I’ll pester him to send me to the academy.”

“Still, must you study in secret? You’re impressive. To learn a language I can’t even read, all on your own!”

Fortunately, no one in this world could read Korean. Without even that outlet, she might have gone mad long ago.

“Anyway, why did you rush in? What’s wrong?”

“Ah! Right!”

Nia smacked her forehead with her palm. The hollow clack of wood against wood rang out.

“Miss, I heard you left breakfast early again. Are you unwell, like last time?”

“I’m fine now.”

“Miss, really, no one would scold you for leaving food! Why do you always eat like that, so foolishly?”

“I know…”

If only I had teeth and a stomach like you lot… to chew glass. Not that I’d want it.

“Just in case, take this. I asked downstairs for some antacid.”

Nia pulled a small glass vial from her apron, handing it over as if it were a great secret. A clear potion shimmered inside.

“…Thank you.“

“Hehe, it’s nothing!”

There were dangerous beings like the Count and Countess, but also safe presences like Nia. Nia would never harm her. She would even take a punishment in Serenity’s place when the Count threatened her with ‘discipline.’

…Though watching her pour sap into the cracks of the thorn whip after being flayed by it was far from comforting.

‘If Nia shows up at this hour, it means nothing unusual will happen until afternoon.’

Serenity secretly breathed out in relief.

Above all, survival here depended on familiarity with the story.

Learn the variables. Memorize the entities’ patterns. Understand the rules. Even that alone cut down needless deaths. Ten loops and months of survival had taught her so.

One day, once she stepped beyond the mansion, the survival difficulty would spike again, but at least she had charted this much.

‘Anyway, with Nia here, I can relax for a few hours.’

Serenity leaned back in her chair, tension draining.

“Ah, right! I almost forgot. Miss, I have tremendous news!”

“News?”

…Now?

Nia giggled, her voice rising in theatrical excitement.

“Duke Lambert is coming to visit the mansion!”

“…Who?“

“His Grace, Duke Blake Lambert! What should I do? I’m so excited. I can’t believe I’ll see him in person!”

…Fuck.

*Who the hell is that *now?

—

7-2. Every Tuesday, the Count is at his most generous. On that day, you may request something of him. However, ask no more than three things at once. Any more may offend him. Remember: though the Count appears kind, his discipline is merciless.