Hermes Hall

'Oh you were serious?' He laughed as we made our way to the end of the hall, walking in the set of prints left in the thick carpet of dust covering the floor. 'This is Hermes Hall,' he said in disbelief. 'No one's been here in 20 years. Even the maids don't bother to clean here.' He slid his finger across one of the old student's desks and wiped the filth off on his jacket. 'Do you think anyone will hear us if we scream for help?'

'No one will hear you.'

'I'm sorry?'

'No one will hear you,' I stopped my search in the bookshelves. 'Do you have a hearing problem?'

'You know I don't'

'But I alway find myself repeating with you.'

'You didn't have to—'

'Is it my volume? Do I mumble?'

'No you don't mumble,' he made his way to my end. 'You say a lot of absurd things. Things ordinary people have a hard time believing.'

'You're ordinary then?' I looked at him from my crouched position. 'I find it hard to believe you'd even come close to normal.'

'I'd like to think so.' He picked out an old volume, carefully flipping through the brittle pages. 'Well are you going to tell me the purpose of our visit here?' You're not going to kill me are you?' It came out as a joke but the silence in his words meant otherwise.

'No. I don't think so,' I resumed my search among the many obscure titles. 'You asked for the Grim's lair. I'm giving you the Grim's lair.' Ah, my ink stained fingers stopped at a particularly frayed book detailing events of Mary Tudor's reign in England. I pulled it out and felt around for a crevice in the back of the shelf. 'You might want to stand back a bit.'  A click echoed across the abandoned hall as I tugged on it and three of the bottom shelves slid out of sight, leaving a small crawl space for the two of us.

'Ladies first,' William smiled sheepishly.

'I am not going in first,' I'd already seen the horrors behind that bookshelf alone. I wasn't about to let William stay outside of the said hell hole. 'Go on knight in shining armour,' I nudged him. 'Your turn to slay the bloody dragon.' 

'You've been here before,' he said accusingly as we crawled through the claustrophobic tunnel. 'Why am I going in first? When did you even... it was last Tuesday wasn't it? I knew girls couldn't go to the loo that long.'

'Just get to the other side will you?' I rolled my eyes at the posterior staring back at me. 'I'm seeing a bit more of my friend than I want to.'

'Now this is how you make a torture chamber,' William whispered as we brushed the grime off our pants. Whispering was appropriate. The entire room seemed to give off an alien effect, the most terrifying there was. As if the Grim could walk in at any moment. But it looked less of a villain's secret lair and more of a poorly kept butcher's shop.

Steel chains lined the walls, their doors ajar from my last visit. They were filled to the brim with books, beakers, wilted plants and perfumes and potions. The walls themselves were splattered with blood and gore, dirt smudging the tiles along with other debris. The room wasn't particularly large but big enough for everything the grim wanted.

'He hasn't been here.' William looked around with a twisted sort of wonder in his eyes. 'Ours. The new one. Whatever you'll call him. He hasn't been here. He's never been here.' He hugged himself and spun in place, laughing in disbelief. 'The Grim's lair. We're in the Grim's lair.'

'What do you reckon he does here?' I glanced at the metal tables and hooks suspending rotten meat, human presumably. All while my feet remained firmly planted next to our way in.

'He used to kill people obviously.'

'Hold on, used to?'

'Used to.' He looked at me, 'See, I'm not the only one who can be confused. While I congratulate your amazing search Cunningham, this is the old Grim's lair. Not the new one.'

'How would you know? You're not...'

A click echoed through the walls, too similar to the one outside for us not to worry.

'Should we?' I gestured to the tunnel.

'That would be the wise thing to do, yes,' he grinned nervously, going in first.

'Cunningham?' his worried tone called ahead. 'Is it supposed to be closed?'

'What do you mean it's closed?' I looked through the opening on our side. 'Clearly the end of the tunnel...' has no light left. 'It's closed?'

'I should think so,' he grunted.

'Alright... there has to be a way out. We're still breathing aren't we? Try feeling around for a crack or a button. I'm sure the grim had to deal with this all the time—'

'I really doubt that's true.'

'Not now William. All we have to do is stay calm.' In a filthy dark tunnel... with the walls closing in... and air disappearing at a moment's—

'Cunningham?' my eyes flew open, I didn't realise I had them closed. 'What happened to not panicking?'

'Can't you kick it open or something?' I ran a hand down my face, sighing at the sweat collected there. 'The humidity doesn't make it easier.'

'Would you kick open concrete?' He called out. 'Your breathing isn't helping either.'

'Well can't you do something while I still have my self control?' Family inheritance has always been complicated but allergies and rashes were a whole other world. 'Just... come back. We'll come up with a plan in a more comfortable space... for you.' A bit of backwards shuffling was involved before we were back together in the... hell hole. I sat down on the floor, holding my feet as my toes squirmed with an itchy protest. With my cane on the other side, standing was harder, and the floor wasn't as disgusting as one would expect.

William was striding up and down, raiding steel cabinets for anything that might help aid our escape. 'Have you had any shellfish? Today? Yesterday?' he asked, glancing at where I sat. 'You know it triggers your eczema.'

'It's not shellfish,' I huffed, slipping my flats back on. 'Have you found anything?'

'No—'

Another click, with a familiar voice this time. 'William, Elizabeth? Are you in there?'

'What are you doing here?' I looked at William.

'Saving your backsides apparently. I could hear your screaming from outside,' Mary-Lou called. 'Well are you coming?'