Chapter Three

"Well, while you do that, I'm gonna look for a way out of here." Pawson left Aimes' side to look at the books on the shelves. Every so often, he would have to return with the flashlight so Aimes could pick a new colored crayon. After a while, Pawson found one book in particular that was an unusual shade of red. It was also much thicker than the other books on the shelf. The title read: A Guide To Secret Passageways.

"I might have found something," Pawson said.

"I only have one book to go," Aimes called back. Pawson dragged the table from the center of the room over to the bookshelf with the red book. Standing on top of it, he could just barely tug on the spine. Sure enough, as he did so, the wall opened into a dark hallway. This one was person-sized.

"I like when things make sense." Pawson let out a sigh of relief.

“Aaaaand, done,” Aimes said, adding the final coloring book to the stack. She got up off the floor and slipped her box of crayons back into her pack. Then she made her way over to her teddy bear, standing in front of an impossibly dark hallway. Even the flashlight could hardly pierce the blackness.

Pawson didn't want to go down that dark and spooky corridor, but there weren't many other options. Other than crawling back through the tunnel to the foyer, this was the only exit he could find. Aimes could have walked behind him, since Pawson had the flashlight, but she walked alongside him anyway. She didn't seem the least bit scared.

"None of this gives you goosebumps?" Pawson asked, not knowing entirely what goosebumps felt like.

"Not really," Aimes shrugged. "Everything in the dark is also there in the light, so what is there to be scared of?"

"That's... a fair point." Actually, it put Pawson's mind at ease. At least, it did until he remembered neither of them had seen the haunted house in the daytime either.

"I wonder where the owners are? It's such a big house, someone has to live here, right?" Aimes posited as the two of them walked down the corridor.

Pawson thought about that question and offered: "Well, someone opened the front door."

"Or it was a ghost," Aimes said flippantly, and it took every bit of willpower for Pawson not to correct her. For now, Pawson let her believe that was the case. The hallway eventually came to an end, and there was nowhere else to go.

"Looks like we're going into one of these rooms," Aimes said with a chipper voice. It sounded like she had been waiting to say that since the moment they entered the hallway. She looked to Pawson for approval, who reluctantly nodded.

Aimes picked the closest door and opened it. Inside was a long table and a dozen or so chairs. Pawson flashed the light over the room; the table was dressed in a white cloth, stained red in some spots. Plates were placed in front of each chair, and some of the empty goblets were tipped over.

A large set of windows spanned one wall. Outside, the pattering of rain splashed against the unbroken panes, and the howling wind found its way in through the broken ones. Tree branches tapped and scratched against the windowsills.

"Looks like they left before dinner was served," Aimes observed, running her finger along the fine silver spoons. They were caked in dust.

"At least they’re not still here," Pawson said, adding a bit of spooky ambiance to the whole situation. "Could you imagine the smell? It might be worse than your morning di—"

"Oh look!" Aimes cut Pawson off, pointing at a spot on the ceiling beside the chandelier. A drop of liquid fell down onto the tablecloth. Crimson spread over the white linen as the drop was soaked up. It seemed to be leaking.

"It’s red?" Aimes asked inquisitively. "That's odd."

If the color could have drained from the magenta teddy bear's face, it would have in that moment. Pawson watched another drop splat down onto the tablecloth, soaking into the fabric and leaving behind a slick gooey residue. Aimes climbed up onto the table to get a better look.

Then the drops came down faster. Drip. Drip. Drip.

Then in more than one spot, peppering the tablecloth in red puddles. Drip. Drip. Drip.

Aimes was still standing on the table, looking up at the cracks in the ceiling where the heavy chandelier was pulling down on the woodwork.

"Aimes!" Pawson clamored onto the table as best as his little bear arms would let him: first onto a chair, then onto the table.

"Roofs don’t usually leak red stuff, Pawson." Aimes didn't seem fazed by this at all, but the fuzzy little bear was almost in hysterics. It was raining blood!

Lightning struck something outside. The roar of thunder was paired with a loud crunching sound, and then the groan of something heavy. With a loud crash, the table shook and knocked Aimes, Pawson, and two place settings to the ground. Then the ceiling gave way and the chandelier crashed down just where Aimes was standing a moment ago. With it came a flood of red and glass.

Once the dust began to settle, Pawson tried to catch his breath. Aimes rubbed her hip, crinkling the wing of her diaper. Everything was so still all of a sudden, and the whole room smelled of...

Was it fruit?

"Jeeze, that hurt..." Aimes said, climbing to her feet. She helped Pawson up next, then went to inspect the damage. There was a huge hole in the ceiling.

Then her boot crunched down on a big heap of glass. She picked up the flashlight from the ground where Pawson had dropped it and shined the light on it. Amongst the shards was a label. Aimes had to tilt her head to read it.

"Raspberry jelly?" Aimes read aloud. "I guess the pantry is above this room. That explains a lot."

"...what do you mean raspberry jelly?" Pawson asked. There was no way that the bleeding ceiling could have been raspberry jelly! That was absurd! That was silly! That was... Pawson dipped his paw into the red and took a tentative sniff. That was absolutely correct. Pawson was shivering, coming down from a darn near panic attack, and Aimes wasn't even perturbed in the slightest!

"Well, we should get going," Aimes said. She dusted off her bare thighs and headed to the other side of the dining room, where a door was waiting for them.