Chapter 9 - The Upper Room
Arthur bolted toward the main staircase, taking the steps two at a time while Clara and the children stayed huddled near the entryway below.
The upstairs hallway was bathed in shadows, the only light coming from the open doorway of the master bedroom at the far end. He drew a deep breath and stepped into the room, his eyes scanning the space for the source of the crash.
The heavy oak wardrobe had been pushed away from the wall, revealing a hidden compartment built into the lath and plaster behind it. Resting on the floor inside the cavity was a battered metal lockbox, its lid pried open with a crowbar that lay abandoned nearby.
Arthur approached the box slowly, his hands trembling as he knelt down to examine its contents. Inside were stacks of old journals, cassette tapes, and a collection of family photographs showing a woman and two young children who bore an uncanny resemblance to Clara, Maya, and Leo.
He picked up the topmost journal and flipped open the cover. The handwriting inside was his own.
Entry 412: The experiment is progressing according to schedule. The subjects are beginning to adapt to the behavioral constraints of the primary environment.
Arthur dropped the book as if it were burning hot, stumbling backward until his spine hit the bedroom wall. He had no memory of writing those words, no recollection of conducting any experiment, yet the ink was indisputably his, penned in the meticulous script he had used since his university days.
A soft click sounded behind him. He spun around to find Clara standing in the bedroom doorway, holding one of the cassette tapes in her hand, her expression completely devoid of fear.
May you like
"Press play," Clara said, nodding toward the vintage portable recorder sitting on the nightstand.
---
