Grieving Lovers
The Scream
“So I see… you don’t have any clue how things got to this point, either,” Kris mutters.
“It would seem we wound up in very similar situations, I have to say.”
Yixing nods. Kris is right.
“What were you doing here anyway?” he asks.
“I was here with my parents. A break from studying,” Yixing chuckles to himself.
“I suppose this wasn’t exactly what I expected.”
Kris chuckles, placing a hand on Yixing’s shoulder.
“How about you?” Yixing asks.
“Oh, me? Nothing special. Just passing through this part and happened across the gallery,” Kris explains vaguely.
“I thought I was a goner there… thank you for getting my rose back. You weren’t hurt, were you?”
Yixing gives him a small smile.
“It doesn’t matter now, let’s just keep pressing on. I want to get out of here.”
Kris nods, leading the way back down the red corridor. There’s a statue before a door that Yixing couldn’t pass through before.
Unlike Yixing, Kris, is taller and has better upper body strength, so he easily pushes the headless statue aside.
“I think I’ll go insane if I stay in here any longer,” Kris grimaces as he pushes the statue aside.
“We should go together. It’s unnerving being here by myself.”
Yixing nods.
The pair find themselves in a new coloured gallery. A putrid yellow. There’s two portraits on the wall. One, a bride, the other, a groom. But, to Yixing's horror, there's nothing attractive about either. There are two hands reaching out from the floorboards, their fingers twisted and disgusting, like the fingers of a corpse trapped in the earth for centuries.
“Grieving Bride,” Yixing mumbles aloud.
“Grieving Groom,” Kris reads, looking over to Yixing.
“What do we do?” Yixing asks.
“I don’t know,” Kris says, walking between the hands carefully.
“Let’s just keep going forward.”
They find themselves further up in the gallery. There’s a door to the left, but Kris continues onward, ignoring it. Another door to the right, and a small passage. Kris takes this passage and Yixing follows. There’s a lone portrait on the wall. A face, with crazed eyes and a tongue sticking out. Hands that trace the edge of the frame.
“Give me that flower,” it whispers to Yixing. Yixing shakes his head at it.
“No.”
“Oh, pretty please…?”
Yixing hesitates. Somehow the portrait’s voice has a hypnotizing effect on Yixing, and he finds himself unable to control his actions.
“I just want a sniff…”
Yixing is possessed, and his hand reaches into his pocket to pull out the red rose. He starts walking forward, slowly. His eyes flicker between the rose and the painting repeatedly. He doesn’t want this. But he can't control his body! Yixing cannot bring himself to speak. It's like his paralyzed, the fear suffocating and crushing him as he steps gingerly closer and closer against his will. He shuts his eyes tightly, knowing exactly where this is going.
No rose, no Yixing.
“Yixing?”
Kris yells loudly as he takes Yixing’s arm and pulls him away. Yixing gasps as a hand reaches out of the painting and steals a petal from his rose. A hand flies to his head as he leans on Kris, his body tensing. Blood is pooling out of a gush on his neck, and Yixing begins to feel faint.
“Yixing? Are you OK? What happened?”
Yixing glances over at Kris with empathetic eyes.
“Stay away from that,” he whispers, “it draws you in…”
Kris tries to steady his breathing as he half helps half drags Yixing back down the corridor, to a putrid yellow door on the wall. He presses his palm to it to find it open.
“No,” Yixing squeaks, holding onto Kris.
“Try the other corridor first.”
Kris nods, resting Yixing on the ground.
“You should rest. That cut doesn’t look good.”
Kris presses his hand against Yixing’s neck and Yixing winces, cursing under his breath. When Kris gets up, Yixing is quick to drag him back towards him.
“Don’t,” he breathes.
“Don’t leave me.”
Kris lets out an exasperated sigh and picks Yixing back off the ground.
“Fine,” he says. “But if you feel like you can’t go on, I’m stopping. And I’ll find you a vase. I owe you that much.”
The pair shuffle around the corner, passing all-too realistic portraits of snakes and other creatures that Yixing can’t even begin to describe hanging on the walls.
“Here,” Kris says.
He notices Yixing’s discomfort and takes Yixing’s arm, slinging it around his shoulder. But Kris is too tall for Yixing. Kris holds Yixing’s legs in his other arm and carries him around, Yixing holding on to his neck as they enter a new corridor. There are holes in the ground, and with one more step forward, a wall of large eyes start seeping out of the floor.
“Oh my God,” Kris shrieks.
The eyes are much bigger than human eyes, and they appear all in one colour. Blood red. Kris tries to weave his way around the eyes, but it’s too unnerving for him.
“I don’t think I can,” he whispers to Yixing.
“They’re all staring at me, with those eyes… it’s like they’re judging me…”
So Kris fears judgment, Yixing notes. How could someone that beautiful fear what others think of him? Surely he knows he is attractive? Yixing exhales and points to a lone eye on the ground. It’s the only one not looking at them.
“That one,” he says, “that one looks different from the others… hurt in some way?”
Kris nods.
“It might have a congestion problem,” Kris agrees.
“It must be part of this puzzle,” Yixing says with a smile.
“What do we do?” Kris asks.
“Well, there was a door you passed on the way here. The first door.”
“Oh?”
Seems Kris didn’t notice this door.
“I think it was this door.”
Kris props Yixing against the wall and pushes at a new door. The corridor must have made a full circle on itself, because Yixing sees portraits that are familiar further up the corridor. The same snake.
“We should check this one,” Yixing says.
Kris gives a curt nod.
“OK.”
“What’s that sound?” Kris whispers.
There’s a shuffling sound, and it’s coming closer.
“I don’t know…”
“Stay here, you’re injured,” Kris tells Yixing. “I’ll try the maze. Don’t worry, I’ll keep talking to you. See, the hedges are not tall enough to see over, but you’ll be able to hear me.”
Yixing tries to argue, but Kris is already further up the corridor.
“Do you like mazes?” Kris finds himself in front of a page on the wall.
“No,” he tells it.
There’s a giggle from somewhere far off.
“Yixing, was that you?” Kris yells.
There’s a pause.
“No!”
Kris gulps, walking around the next corridor… He shrieks, turning to run back the way he came. There are headless statues, everywhere. And they’re all walking around, patrolling the walls. Kris leaps across a corridor and into a small rounded room. There’s another note on the wall. He reads it aloud.
“There’s a trick to solving mazes… Hug the right hand side and you’ll reach the end eventually.”
Kris curses and follows the note’s instruction. The headless statues are far too close for comfort, so he quickly ducks underneath it.
THUD!
“!” Kris shrieks. His left arm is bleeding heavily, and he stumbles away from the statue, that’s intent on following him…
But he’s not quick enough.
THUD!
Another shriek, and Yixing jumps up from his place, ignoring his pain.
“Kris?”
“I’m OK, just stay there!” Kris yells back.
He finds another note on the wall.
“Go directly south of the red paint… huh?”
Kris rakes his brain, remembering that throughout the maze there were three blobs of red paint on the floor. He had ignored them up until this point because he was too busy making sure he didn’t get hit. Not that that had helped him anyway.
“Oh my God!” Kris screams.
He’s reached a dead end. The statues are closing in.
“Kris?” Yixing shouts.
Kris shakes his head and cowers into the corner of the wall, trying to lodge himself as far away from the statues as possible.
“I’m not going to make it, Yixing. You need to find the red paint on the ground and go directly south of it! There are three places to check. Do it quickly, while I have the statue’s attention!” Kris is willing to sacrifice himself for Yixing, a total stranger. Yixing can’t help but be attracted to the blonde teen even more.
“No, I’m getting you out of here!” Yixing yells at Kris.
He finds the first puddle of red paint that reminds him of blood. He ignores this and walks forward, through the maze. He shrieks as a statue comes hurtling towards him, but he ultimately ignores it. Yixing gets on all fours and crawls the remainder of the way until he has taken Kris’ hand in his, and is dragging him back through the maze, painfully slowly. Yixing gets hit twice more before he is able to get out of the room, blood soaking his skin.
Yixing takes Kris to a small bench sitting beside a wall, away from the paintings and the prying eyes that occupy the other passage. He feels Kris shiver, so he takes his shirt off and wraps it around the taller teen. It hardly fits, but it’s enough for now.
“I’m going into the other room, alone,” Yixing tells Kris. “You need to stay here and stop freaking out.”
Kris is almost hysterical, grabbing onto Yixing to prevent him from leaving.
“You can’t do this alone,” he whispers.
“Don’t.”
Yixing shakes his head at the blonde.
“I was doing it alone until I met you, so I know how it is, so do you,” Yixing says calmly.
“I’ll just go in, figure out the puzzle, and be out as quick as I can.”
Kris doesn’t look convinced.
“What if something happens? You only have two petals left…”
Yixing shakes his head at Kris.
“Don’t think that.”
Yixing leaves Kris to his own devices, entering the room they haven’t tried yet. There’s portraits, everywhere. Some incomplete, some complete, all of the same thing. A vase. The simple blue vase that gives Yixing life. Yixing feels that Guertena must be looking down, laughing at him. The thing he needs the most, and it’s untouchable.
Yixing shuffles his way around the room, pushing over stools and paintings as he goes, searching for something that could change the odds in his favour. He soon notes there’s a specific order to the objects he must move, and it takes him a few times to try, dragging the stools backwards and forwards against the tiles floor. Yixing knows that blood has soaked its way through his pants but he tries his best to ignore the feeling of stickiness and decay. He has to keep Kris alive, too.
Yixing finds himself soon in the centre of the room, standing next to a chair. He had hoped it would have been a vase sitting on the chair, but he was mistaken. Instead, a small jar of liquid.
“Eyedrops…”
Yixing picks up the jar and weaves his way back through the room, soon back at the door. Kris looks at him expectantly as he exits the room.
“I got eyedrops,” Yixing explains. “I’m going to go back to that other passage and see what happens.”
Kris nods.
“I’m coming with you.”
Kris picks himself up off the ground, leaning on Yixing for support. Yixing knows Kris is too heavy for him to carry for long, but he doesn’t complain. The pair work their way down the eye-filled corridor until they are standing in front of the lone, reddened eye.
“Here,” Yixing tells it, pouring the liquid over it.
There’s a hiss, and what looks like steam arises from the eye. And then it moves. The eye rolls past the other eyes until it is at the head of the corridor. Kris, thoroughly freaked out, pulls on Yixing’s shoulder.
“We should leave it.”
But Yixing has other ideas.
“I think it wants to show us something…”
Yixing drags Kris back through the eyeballs, and Kris breathes heavily as they keep stating at him. Soon, Yixing finds the lone eye again, intently staring at the wall.
“There’s something here,” Yixing tells Kris, his fingers brushing against the wall.
It’s a lighter colour than the rest of the wall, he realises. The eye rolls back to its previous place and stares at them. Yixing presses the palm of his hand against the door and pushes it forward. There’s a secret passage!
It’s a small room, with nothing in it. No. Only a small red ball. Yixing picks it up and pockets it, while Kris gives him a strange look.
“What?” Yixing complains.
“It could be important later on.”
The pair backtrack. Yixing inhales sharply as he realises there is only one place left to finish a puzzle. The headless statue room.
“You stay here,” Yixing tells Kris.
He ignores Yixing, pushing forward.
“No. You’re not doing this alone.”
They both walk unsteadily through the maze, finding a patch of red paint on the ground.
“Directly south.”
Kris thinks for a minute, finding his bearings. Yixing shrieks loudly, squirming closer to Kris as he sees a statue round the corner.
“Quickly!” he yells.
Kris nods, rushing to the wall, pressing against it, finding anything that could trigger something.
No luck.
Yixing screams as yet another red petal falls to the ground. He’s got one left.
“There’s another puddle. Stay here!” Kris exclaims.
Yixing breathes heavily and tries to follow, but he’s far too slow, and this latest gush has left his left leg impaled completely. He falls to the floor, screaming in agony.
“Hurry!” Yixing yells.
Kris finds a second puddle of red paint on the ground and runs to it, his eyes following the path south. He pushes the wall, and this time there is a resounding click through the room.
“I think I got it!”
Kris finds Yixing and picks him up, carrying him out of the maze and back into the yellow gallery. Nothing has changed that Kris can see.
“I don’t know what to do…” Kris mumbles.
Yixing hisses as he tries to put weight on his left foot.
“Don’t!” Kris warns.
But Yixing is stubborn, and his hand flies to his pocket, pulling out the red ball.
“There’s something to do with this,” he says, his voice raspy.
“The snake portrait, take me there.”
Yixing sees a hole where the snake’s eye should be, and he places the ball carefully within it. There’s a clutter, and the portrait next to it falls to the ground.
“Good thinking!” Kris congratulates him.
Yixing gives a small nod.
“We’re not out of here yet.”
Kris walks over to the fallen portrait and runs his hand over the back of the frame. There’s a small note, so he reads it aloud for Yixing to hear.
“Behind the big tree…”
Yixing breathes out in disappointment.
“There’s somewhere we haven’t been.”
“Here,” he mutters.
Kris nods, carrying him across to it.
“We need to find a vase for you," Kris whispers, concern filling his eyes. Yixing shakes his head.
“I didn’t see one.”
Kris shrugs and pushes forward a new door, peeking around the door. Nothing comes running at him, so he enters, carrying Yixing on his shoulder. There are even stranger statues in this room. A giant wine glass sits to the left passage. It’s cut diagonally, and a red cushion sits inside. Kris places Yixing inside and walks off, surveying the room. Yixing tries to move in protest, but he’s in too much pain. His legs hang out the side, and he feels like his back will break against the glass pane. It's definitely not as comfortable as Kris’ arms.
“Stay. Rest.” Kris whispers, trying to hush him.
“I don’t want to,” Yixing complains, holding his arms out.
“I don’t want to be alone. Not anymore.”
Kris sighs and places his blue petal rose on Yixing’s stomach.
“Look. Here’s my rose. See, if I’m here with you through the rose, I can never truly be too far away,” he smiles warmly at Yixing.
Kris walks around the displays, finding a giant bust sitting in the middle of the room. He reads the plaque aloud for Yixing.
“Melancholy ???. I don’t know what that words is.”
As he reads the words, the lights cut out, and Yixing gives a small whimper.
“Melancholy, huh? Who wouldn’t be melancholy in a place like this,” Kris whispers to himself.
The lights flicker back on, and Kris makes his way further down the corridor. The next statue is a skeleton, with each bone painted a different colour. Kris doesn’t like this statue, because the skull’s eyes are etched out and watching, painted black against blood red. The lights flicker on and off, and Yixing tries to weave his way out of the wine glass chair.
“Please Kris, come back," Yixing whispers, fear evident in his tone.
Kris heaves a heavy sigh, continuing on his way.
“I’ll be back Xing. Don’t worry.”
Yixing blushes. Xing was the nickname that only his mother ever called him. He realised he liked it when Kris called him that; it made him feel reassured.
“You’ve got to be pretty clever to come up with this stuff…” Kris mumbles to himself.
He thinks back to the instructions of before, and makes his way around to the opposite side of the statue. As the lights flicker on and off, a gleam catches his eye. Kris leans forward, running his fingers along a branch until his fingers brush against a new texture. There’s something metallic. Kris pulls the object down and examines it. It’s a small, silver ring.
Kris walks back down the corridor to find Yixing, right where he left him. He hands the ring to Yixing, and takes his blue rose, placing it back in his pocket.
“Know what this is for?” he asks.
Yixing gives a gasp.
“This… It’s a wedding ring.”
Kris nods.
“You mean…?”
“Yes, I think so.”
Kris picks Yixing back up and leaves the corridor, making his way backwards through the putrid yellow gallery until he comes across the room with the Grieving Lovers. Kris soon finds himself standing in front of the hand that reaches out of the ground in front of the portrait of the Grieving Bride.
“Put it on the ring finger,” Yixing instructs.
“OK.”
There is a clicking sound, and Yixing notices the stance of the Grieving Bride in the portrait has changed. Instead of looking out at the pair with sorrow filled eyes, she is grinning, her hands up in the air. A bouquet falls from the ceiling, and Yixing tries to catch it but fails miserably. Kris leans down to let him pick it up.
“It’s beautiful,” Yixing whispers.
The bouquet is a collection of white and pink roses, the same roses that appear on the bride’s wedding veil. But Yixing realises that these roses will soon have their time to die. Much sooner than Yixing could have hoped.
“Go back to the portrait. The one that took my first petal…” Yixing breathes.
Kris looks at him like he’s lost his mind.
“No, we can’t go there!” he shouts.
Yixing winces, holding a hand to his head. He can feel the red rose withering, and he doesn’t want to meet its sad fate.
“It tried to steal my rose, remember,” Yixing explains.
“If we go back and hand it the bouquet…”
Kris’ eyes widen and he nods enthusiastically.
“You mean, he might give us the key, or a way out?”
Yixing nods weakly.
“It’s worth a try,” Kris tells him.
“But I’m not letting you go close to that portrait, understand?”
Yixing doesn’t argue with him.
Kris returns him down the corridor and places him on the ground about a metre away from the portrait. Far enough away to be out of reach, but close enough to be able to hear Kris and the portrait’s conversation. Yixing never thought he’d believe portraits could talk, but this art gallery had skewed his perception of reality. Kris walks closer to the portrait, and Yixing inhales sharply, waiting expectantly from his position.
“Give me that flower,” the portrait whines.
“If you give me the flower, I’ll let you through.”
Yixing sees Kris hesitate, so he jumps up and s the bouquet forward, before the portrait’s hands can wrap themselves around the blue rose.
“Thank you, thanks so much… as promised, you can go through.” the portrait mumbles.
The bouquet is gone; the portrait has ripped it into itself, the teeth that line the frame have eaten it up. Yixing shivers. It could have eaten him, or Kris.
The petal has almost fallen.
Comments