A person.
Not a doll, not a Neovano creature, not even a corpse.
But an actual, living, breathing person.
Just sitting at the end of the room, reading a book as they lazily twirled a pen between their fingers, their brows slightly knitted, a contemplative look on their face as they stared hard at the page in front of them. And more importantly, a charger head sat beside them. No. To be specific, it was beside the person because they had used it as a book stand. It was a miracle it was even standing without tilting over.
Before Maxwell could say anything, he felt a strong tug on the back of his shirt. Then he was being dragged into the passage by Nova, the door locking shut behind them. Without sparing a word, they broke into a sprint, their target the door with the staircase leading upstairs!
Whoever or whatever was inside that room was not someone they wanted to tangle with. To be the only living human in this settlement of the dead, and to look so clean-kept and sane, was not normal in the slightest.
When they reached the staircase, Nova pulled open the door and slipped through, and Maxwell followed, locking it behind him. But they did not slow down. They had only one goal in mind: to escape the settlement, or, failing that, to barricade themselves in their room.
They raced up the staircase, straight to the door of the first floor.
This time, too, Nova arrived first and pulled open the door, but unlike last time, Maxwell felt a chill run down his spine.
On the other side of the door stood the same person, but this time Maxwell could make out his features clearly, as though a veil had been lifted from his eyes, allowing him to see what had previously eluded him.
It was a man.
But before Maxwell could take a proper look at his face, Nova had already shut the door. She was just about to bolt downstairs again when Maxwell caught her by the hands, stopping her before she could take another step.
"Let's stop running," Maxwell said, still holding her hands. "I've seen enough horror movies to know that running at a time like this never ends well."
"You want to gamble our lives on some horror theatre play? Are you crazy!" Nova snapped.
"A horror movie, not a horror play," Maxwell corrected. "But basically, yes. I have seen this plot enough times to know how it plays out. As we keep running, we'll eventually annoy whatever or whoever that is, and in the end they'll get tired of the cat-and-mouse game and decide to end it."
"Again, are you nuts? If you want to gamble your life on a horror movie, then you're on your own. Don't try to stop me." She wrenched her hands free and, without another word, descended the stairs once more.
Maxwell just shook his head, went back to the door and sat down on the ground, closing his eyes. He already knew how things would progress: Nova would try every way to leave this place, only to find that every door she opened led to that person in the room, until she eventually gave up and came back.
Just as he had predicted, Nova returned after a few minutes, shoulders slumped. She looked defeated; it was clear she had resigned herself to the fate of never escaping.
"Didn't I tell you?" Maxwell opened one eye and flashed her a painfully exaggerated grin. "I told you. Always trust the horror movies; they'll never steer you wrong. Look at me, I'm living proof! Haha."
Nova gave him an annoyed look, then sighed in defeat. "I already knew it was going to end like this the second time I opened the door and saw him. I just wanted to take my chances. Who knows, maybe I would have been able to escape him."
"Well, clearly it didn't work for you, haha." Maxwell laughed again, this time a direct taunt for doubting him. "I told you I'm always right, didn't I?"
Nova did not respond to the taunt and instead turned her attention back to the door leading to the strange entity. "Should we go in now or wait a bit longer?"
"Either is fine with me," Maxwell said with a shrug. "We can go in now, or we can stay a few minutes to organize our thoughts. Your call."
"Then I say we go in now. I can't stand another minute of not knowing what that person will do to us if he runs out of patience while we stall," Nova agreed.
With that, they both got up from the stairs and made their way back to the room. This time they were ready. Whether they lived or died depended on the whim of the person inside, and no opinion or action of their own could change that. They weren't going to think about it; they would simply let fate run its course.
When they opened the door, they found the same man inside, as expected, sitting on a wooden chair with both hands interlocked on the table, staring at them with a smile. But this time, they did not run.
As if rehearsed, they both straightened their posture, suppressing the unease crawling up their spines. "Good evening. It's an honour to meet you," they said in unison.
"Ahhhh," the man smiled. "Don't be so formal with me." He waved a hand, his smile never faltering. "I'm just a lonely old man mulling over some books, so there's no need to be so terribly formal."
Hearing this, Nova and Maxwell felt a fresh chill at how casual the man was.
"Ahh, please have a seat." The man pointed to the two empty spots in front of him.
The moment the man's words fell, Nova and Maxwell found themselves seated across from him. They both shivered. There had been only one chair in the room when they first entered! And they didn't even know how they had ended up on the chairs.
We're going to die here today, aren't we? Maxwell thought, his heart heavy.
"Of course not, lad," the man chuckled. "And why are you guys so scared? I don't bite."