Kip watched the man with the knight mask try to open the door. He found it locked. Then a lady tried to tinker with the doorknob, to no avail.

Kip had had enough. "Right, that's it! I'm not going to let some bastard executioner toy with me! Move over!"

He stood up, strode towards the door with determination and gave a great shout as he slammed his foot against the door. It didn't move. Kip kicked again, feeling the door hold like a castle wall.

"FUCK!" Fear and paranoia had gripped him, and he threw himself against the door again and again, but the door didn't budge. Finally he stopped. He was panting heavily, his hair was a mess, under his mask he was sweating and he stood still in front of the door, knowing the door will not open for them.

Esther peeped through her mask, eyeing the other prisoners--or, guests, as they drank away their fears and conversed worriedly about the locked door. She brought her hands to the mouth of her mask, grimly feeling the exterior that was framing her face. How odd it was that the Last Lance was the first to say his name, and the Reckless Aurora, a mirror... Her mind turned back to the graffiti on the wall.

"My key was given to me by my older brother..." She spoke hesitantly. Her voice was small and chirpy, and she was not even sure if it was heard. Her hands drew away from her face, trying to stand strong in the face of the danger arising. Her words floated around her in the shadows of the room. She wanted to grab them as they escaped from her lips and smother them back onto her tongue. Alas, it was too late! Her words had made it across the room--barely, at that.

Perhaps, if she had been quieter. Perhaps, if she had been more like a mouse and less like a bird, no one would have heard her.

The very question made her miss her "key." There was a strange comfort surrounding it. It was the last thing keeping the memory of her brother so vivid. Of course, the very thought of her brother and the gift made her feel a bit more uncomfortable... She desperately wanted to escape the conversation she had entered by darting off down the never-ending hallway. Maybe she would get lost; maybe the hallway would take her in circles; maybe it would set her free. Esther did not dart off, however. In fact, she decided to patiently wait for someone else's response.

Her social shell hardened as she waited for answers. She promised herself she would try to speak less the next time a question was asked.

Suddenly, another guest began throwing himself against the door, helplessly--like a Helpless Pawn. To take her mind from the scene, Esther twirled her tulle bustle back and forth several times, humming in her mind song archaic tune. The man wearing the Helpless Pawn mask stopped and stood still, as did Esther--awaiting for more reactions.

Wilhelm shrugged, "Well I was chatting away before, may as well continue. That's if someone doesn't want to interrupt." He glared at the intercom and waited a few seconds, "Good. Well, I found my key in an antique chest I found. It was in a plank, almost completely unnoticed by all the carvings surrounding it. But, it's my job to notice little things like that. So, I picked at it gently and it popped free. It held my interest and I was going to sell it, until I got a letter and, well, here I am."

The red haired gentleman wearing the Last Lance mask began speaking, again. An exit to the conversation emerged from his mouth as he spoke. He was smug, cheeky-- and something, however, that eerily reminded Esther of her dear brother. Their height was even similar. Esther's dark eyes studied the gentleman's mannerisms. He appeared so nonchalant about the whole ordeal; and his lack of respect for the White Rabbit was intriguing. She straightened her positioning and drew in a small unnoticeable breath. She could feel the heat of her lips against the mask becoming strangely consoling.

Her right hand reached for the black ribbon tying the venetian white, robin's mask around her face. The ribbon was still secure. She lowered her hand. The last thing she wanted was for the White Rabbit to be disappointed in her. Her eyes looked away from the Last Lance and buried her concentration into small gravely shadows on the ground. Why did she want the White Rabbit's approval so badly? A small quiver crawled around her spine, winding around her long, wiry, bone frame. She gnawed at her lower lip, again. Her gnawing was gentle and not so noticeable unless one was watching her intently. The feeling bit her at the top of her neck and urged her to move.

She began walking towards the intricate table of drinks. It was not the drinks she wanted, but the hallway beyond the ornate, wooden table was wear she wanted to wonder. Besides, how could she trust the beverages? The platform heels carefully touched the floors of the White Rabbit's Manor. Each step was taken slowly and delicately, as if one step too many may anger the whole manor and cause another strike against the wallpaper.

Her walking was probably deemed unusual to an outsider, but she was curious. Curiosity was, after all, mankind's first passion. Evidently, it would probably be the last, as well...

Perhaps, I should open one of the doors, she thought to herself, Just twist the knob and push it open...

As she approached the first door, the gas light flickered small but brilliant shadows onto her naked skin. She paused to admire the natural simplicity of the lamps. They were hauntingly beautiful with tiny details that only a true master of worth and honor could have upheld in his or her work. Finally, her hand reached out, winding her fingers around the doorknob. Before twisting she looked at the guests--perhaps to ponder whether being nosy was the right thing to do.

Once again, the speaker came on. The woman spoke, this time. She had a very happy and perky voice, and it seemed a little creepy in the deathly atmoshpere.

"Hello! Perhaps you ought to leave the door alone. Remember, my friends, you are guests after all! There's no need to be so violent. Maybe some music would help to calm you. Oh, and Mr. P- sorry - The White Rabbit will be with you soon. But he does say that you are welcome to-"

The door in which Esther was trying to open swung open and slammed against the wall.

"Explore. He will find you soon!"

The woman's voice ended with another click and it was silent.

---

The door that opened led to a small room that resembled a child's bedroom. There was a small bed and a blue chest, but oddly enough, that was all. The bed was on one side and the chest another. A note was stuck on the door that read:

"Good evening,

I'll be down in a jiffy, but I do ask one favor: Each of you should choose one of the things in this room. Stand beside it and you will know what to do. Do not be pursuaded to change your choice.

To each his own,
The White Rabbit"

Wilhelm looked in the room and read the note. "Well, this just got a whole lot creepier. Does anyone want to volunteer to enter the room first? Because there is no way in hell in going in there first." He looked around at everyone, and prayed that someone was braver than he was to step inside.

The rain begins to grow louder from the outside and pounds against the roof so hard that it can be heard through the thick wood. It pounds, pounds, pounds so hard that it's hard to hear the voices of other people. The Rabbit smiles as he pulls the lever that controls the sound.

As it continues to get louder, music begins to play softly. Well, it starts off softly, anyway. The piano, too, begins to rise in volume. At the height of the sound, a soft voice was heard ever-so-slightly over the sound of the music.

"Make your choice."

[The Blind Rouge]

"Its chalk." Kimi turned, trying to look at the woman who spoke, instead Kimi saw only herself. "Is this just something wealthy people do? I'm not... Never mind that. Does anyone want anything to drink?"

The mirrored mask is very clever. Kimi thought.

Kimi inspected the chalk smudged on her fingertips. She frowned and dragged her hand on her skirt, the chalk left a dim smear near her thigh. The wall seemed solid enough, she could not discern anything unusual at this time. There wouldn't be much time to linger anyhow.

Wilhelm, The Last Lance, spoke to the Rabbit burrowed in the walls about negotiations. Thinking himself cheated, he tried to leave.

Yet, he could not.

The locked door created much drama.

The Reckless Aurora inspected the lock. She seemed to know what she was doing, perhaps she was a machinist or locksmith of some sort, but instead of unlocking the door she was only able to offer uncomfortable excuses about clogged cogs.

The Helpless Pawn, who had been the first to pour himself a beverage, recklessly tried to break through the locked door. His strength was not enough to break the door. Pawns were the weakest pieces on the board.

"My key was given to me by my older brother..." Said the girl with a strange bird mask.

"Yeah, Mine too... A gift from my uncle." Kimi lied quietly. The most convincing lies were half truth. Her uncle had taught her that. Hadn't he?

Wilhelm had apparently found his. He was good at noticing things. Kimi was quietly skeptical.

The Robin took action and sought to open another door.

The walls spoke again, in the voice of a woman this time, they were not only invited into the new room... They were compelled into the next stage of the game.

The rain, the music, and the fear, filled the room with a lethal tension.

The Last Lance asked for a volunteer.

Kimi was not brave. She was, however, efficient. She was accustomed to being an expendable element, yet, she also understood investments. The White Rabbit would not go to all this trouble to gather them into this complex game, that was part puzzle and part art, only to kill them before it even began.

If Kimi was wrong and she would die entering that room, so be it. She had nothing to loose. Her life had never been her own.

So she walked past the others and into the room. She stood by the small blue chest.

The sound of the voice changed genders. There was something slightly jealous being planted in Esther as she listened to the voice speak. The phantom hand squeezing on the cords of her spine was telling her to walk into the room after the door flew open. However, the sudden gust almost made Esther fall to the ground. The wood had sprung ajar so quickly and startled her to a significant degree. She froze, paralyzed staring at the room. Her stark eyes widened, engaging with the shadows lurking beyond dimly lighting of the room.

The Blind Rogue was the first to enter the room. Esther moved away from the doorway to let the Blind Rogue through. Her poofed bustle brushed against her and shook slightly as she moved to the left.

Continuing to peer into the room, Esther noticed it was filled with many secrets of treasures! Her mind shifted gears, once again, and quietly walked into the room. The sound of her boots suddenly silently squeaked as she made her way inside the room. She paused, hearing the squeaks but then continued feeling the need to not disappoint the White Rabbit. A small smile perked on her lips when she saw the object by which she wanted to stand. There was an old rabbit stuffed animal sitting in a wooden, ornate rocking chair. The rabbit was missing an eye, and his other eye was a fascinating button. The rabbit was dressed in an old fine-tailored suit, fitted just for him. She stood pridefully by the rocking chair and keenly dressed rabbit. If she had to choose one, she would choose the rabbit in a heart beat. However, Esther being such a timid creature made her afraid of touching anything. She had already gone out of her way to touch the doorknob and the wall...

Her tulle bustle slowly whisked as she swayed back-and-forth, remaining in her spot. Her eyes were closed, and her mask was facing downwards towards the ground. There was something so interesting about the White Rabbit. Although, Esther felt so scared of him, the atmosphere and the game made the fire inside of her glisten further in the shadows of the evening confusion.

Kimi crinkled her nose just a bit. That woman had a large loud skirt. It would drive Kimi mad to wear something like that. It nearly drove her mad just looking at the thing.

The woman had trouble keeping still, it seemed. Perhaps she was like the songbird her mask was fashioned after, an energetic flighty thing.

Observe facts, do not assume or judge she reminded herself. The robin picked up a stuffed rabbit. The game had only just begun, it was too early to know how everything would turn out.

It was not a matter of determining who was friend or foe. For, no one was an ally, especially not the White Rabbit.

-void-