I return back to the grassy room, slamming the door behind me. I can still hear the groans of the yellow rose, echoing in my head.

I feel possessed.




Kill it.



Kill it.





Kill it!






I walk across to the white flower, running my finger over its petals softly. How could I destroy something so beautiful?

The petals are smooth, their texture soft and easy to run through my fingers. The white of them is soft and easy on my eyes.

All beauty must come to an end.

“How do you do?” the white flower whispers politely.

“I…” I close my eyes.

“I’m sorry!”

I tear one of the white flowers petals off, and it screams, loudly. I feel tears pricking at my eyes, but I try my best to ignore them, even though the red of my bloodied tears hits and tarnishes the pureness of the petals. Soon, the flower has withered completely.

It’s died.

The whole flower has died, from the roots upwards. Where the stalk of the flower once grew lays a small, curled up piece of paper, a single word written on it.

Death.

Maybe this is oddly symbolic of things to come.

I hold the white petals in my hands, silently mourning the loss of something so beautiful. I turn to see if I have awoken Kai, but he is no longer there. I didn’t even notice him leaving.

“Good, you’ve brought the petals to us,” one of the yellow roses grunts at me, as I open the door. Its companion, another yellow rose, flutters excitedly at me.

“You killed it, didn’t you?” it says with unmarked happiness.

“You killed it, and now you’ve earned your prize.”

There is a shuffle in the flower’s leaves, and a strange, white powder flutters up into the air, resting on the coffee table before them. I walk over, sweeping it up in my hands. I leave the bloodstained white petals on the table as tribute.

I quickly run back through the other rooms, stopping when I finally reach the door with the person behind it, breathing heavily.

This could be it.

“That’s medicine!” the voice screeches through the bars of the door.

“Give it to me!”

I hold my hands out, willing the powder through the bars. The person on the other end has long curled fingernails, and in his excitement he tears my skin. I hiss in pain as trails of blood run down my fingers.

“I can’t use this!” he exclaims loudly.

“Not without that!”

“What are you talking about?” I ask, scared.

But the person is bashing himself against the door, and the reverberation of the door causes the birdcage next to me to fall over, almost on top of me. I kneel over it, noticing that the hinges to the cage’s door have come slightly loose.

The bird is dead.

It seems the impact with the ground must have been too much, and with no way of saving itself in flight, the bird couldn’t save itself and get out of the way. There is one final slam of the door, and the room falls silent.

I run my fingers along the door of the cage, pushing it open slowly. I hear a fluttering sound, like wings beating together. But the bird remains still, lifeless. I hear a click, and I step backwards from the cage.

“You’re going to leave me?” the person behind the door screams.

I backtrack, stepping backwards.

“I… I’m sorry!” I yell at them.

“You will be sorry!” The voice darkens, and I hear the person is trying to open the door once again, bashing themselves against it. There is an abrupt cough, and I see blood splattering through the bars of the cage, coating the floor in sticky red.

Immediate silence. Only one thought can cross my mind.

The pollen produced in these flowers is strong enough to kill or give you life.



This time the pollen has killed.



I return to the grassy room, noticing that a new door has sprung from the wall behind the tree. I run across to it, not giving the rest of the room a second glance. Why is everything in this place related to death in some way?

The new room I enter is dark. The walls are lined with some odd, sticky purple substance, the floors similarly coloured.

I notice a small sign sitting in the middle of the room, just before what looks like a long hallway. The hallway seems to have a river of some sort running through it; a river of oddly fluorescent purple.

“Tread with care,” I read aloud.

“The walls are poison. Pass with colourless shoes.”

Colourless shoes?

I find a cabinet off to the side. Another skull? There’s a skull, staring out at me. It looks the same, identical, as the one I picked up before.

I find a second corridor, off to the side. This one lacks the purple-tinged lake. Instead, there is a door to the right, with a note hanging above it.

The water is sealed by the skulls.

I enter the room, carrying the two skulls in my hands.

It is a small, box room lined with skulls. They stare at me blankly, and I imagine I see them shuffling a little, shivering. It could just be rats. The skulls all face inwards, staring at a set of candles that are unlit in the centre of the room. There’s a lever on the wall to the far left.

I notice after walking a lap of the room, there are three skulls missing from the pattern, small indentations in the ground indicate where they have been. I place the two skulls I am carrying in two of the gaps.

One more. There must be one more.

I exit the room, looking around. There’s a vase off to the side, but I’m hesitant to look inside. It could be another twisted trap of the wizard.

I sigh, running my hands around the rim. Should I or shouldn’t I?

I run a hand through my hair. I’ve got nothing to lose, I suppose. The wizard could save me again, couldn’t he? He saved Kai nine times.

I shake my head.

He probably won’t save me. I’m just a pawn for him to use and discard in his sick game.

I close my eyes tightly, sticking my hand in the vase. I feel around, grimacing as something slimy crawls up my fingers. I flick it away, hearing a soft squelch against the far wall.

I don’t open my eyes. I don’t want to know what it is.

Soon, my fingers come into contact with something hard and round. I curl my fingers around it, pulling it upwards as I open my eyes.

It’s the final skull, I realise!

I run across to the skull room, placing it in the last remaining position available, tilting the head so that it’s facing inwards to the centre of the room, to the candlestick. I head over to the wall, flicking the switch.

There’s a low, steady sound that builds up, like water running. I turn around, jumping back in surprise as I realise that the candles have been lit, illuminating the skulls. The skulls cast shadows on the wall; long shadows that dance as the flames flicker.

I exit the room, trying to steady my breath. The water may have cleared the path for me. I travel down the second hallway, gasping as the vase shatters right before me. I hear the clicking sound of feet on the stone floor.

I scream.

It’s the wizard! He’s back!

I turn to run, but there’s nowhere to go. I hear a dark chuckle and I scream, fingers fumbling the door handle. I look around frantically, my eyes wide. There’s nowhere to go.

He edges nearer, closer and closer until I can feel his breath tingling down my spine…




And just like that, he’s gone.

A door appears out of the wall, and I walk in, clutching my heart. There seems to be a reservoir or water catcher of some sort, the clear blue liquid sloshing around.

The water hasn’t cleared my pathway.

I return back to the hallway, shaking my head. I return to the cabinet, looking for anything that will let me carry water, as my eyes flicker across to the purple sludge that fills the other corridor, my way forward.

I’m in luck.

There’s a small water bottle of some sort, enough to hold perhaps half a litre of water in it. I take it out of the shelf, walking back to the room with the water.

Do I take the water and clear the way for myself with water? Does lowering the concentration of the poison by adding water help or hinder? This must be the way; it’s the only thing I can think of right now…

But there’s something I’ve forgotten, I realise. Colourless shoes. Where does one find colourless shoes?

I return to the grassy room, deciding perhaps my best option is to take my chances and water the yellow flowers. I tip the bottle on its head, letting the liquid slowly descend through the flower’s petals to its roots.

I hear a sigh.

“You’re smarter than you look,” one of the yellow roses tells me.

“You may progress. Try the hallway behind that arch.”

I gasp as an archway springs from the wall, a door forming underneath it. I stare at it with wide eyes, noticing a small, dimly lit passage. I don’t think it’s even large enough for me to fit through, but I am pleasantly surprised when I manage to squeeze myself through the door.