Searching For Andromeda 57 Revenge

Every step he took had marveled him. There wasn't any sound coming from his footsteps. It was like he was floating mid-air, yet he was certain his boots had touched the ground. If it was a physical ent.i.ty and not another trick being pulled by whatever force was in these dregs.

It was impossibly dark, so Samuel had extended both of his arms trying to reach for a handle—a post, or any physical object he could grab. He also swayed his arm to avoid b.u.mping into any corners, or a probable doll stealthily waiting for the moment to attack him.

He knew these types of sneaky tricks from the horror movies he watched as a teen (which is probably a year ago, because he technically IS still one). Movies always had the silence accompanied by utter darkness as a convenient time to pull off a jumpscare. The suspense of when it will come made Samuel more anxious than ever. He looked like a horror protagonist—no, he COULD also be the side character that will die as soon as the jumpscare takes place—whether that would be a doll chasing him with a knife, or just stumbling to a certain death dumbly.

Samuel didn't know which is which. But he knew he wasn't the latter. Samuel Albrecht couldn't be a side character. It would outrage him—and he was too amazing to be a nameless extra. He deserved the spot.

"Gah, what the heck am I thinking?" Samuel muttered to himself and then began to walk faster in another direction. Oddly enough, the darkness just kept on lurking endlessly. Samuel thought how physically impossible it was—just how would one room be this big? Just how much area does it cover? Of course, these questions would be difficult to answer with logic. The most feasible answer would be because magic existed, or Samuel was just plain crazy.

And if things weren't getting worse enough, Samuel's feet slipped (which supposedly would be impossible, but it happened), his body tumbling into what seemed like . . . water?

His knees felt the arctic-chill of the water beneath him as his clothes dampen with the low water reaching just to his knees. Slowly, the place came alight—not necessarily bright, just perceivable enough yet still dark. Samuel lifted his gaze and then sees the entirety.

Before him were vast waters with objects of different kinds—chairs, tables, telephones, cabinets, and even vases. There were also stuffed toys—both small and big (human-sized) just floating around, one even reaching Samuel's knee.

And to top it all off . . .

"You got to be kidding me," Samuel exclaimed, his electric-blue eyes looking at what the ma.s.ses would call impossible. What Einstein himself calls the impossible.

Mid-air were pillows, bed, teddy bears, and even fork and cakes. Objects just floating around defying the laws of gravity. Samuel did not know how to react one bit. Of course, this shouldn't be shocking. He had seen Hosea conjure some spell, and Arletha to fly so high into the sky with her magical boots. He had even seen a doll moving. This shouldn't be shocking to him.

But the problem was, it still was shocking for Samuel. For a boy who had science as his religion, he did not know how to react.

"AW!"

In the blink of an eye, Samuel jumped away from the water as he feels a razor-sharp sting piercing to his calf. He slowly drew back as he sees the water around him began to burble. It was ghost-quiet, making the burbling louder than it actually is.

Samuel turned to glance to his leg, noticing the bite marks of what seemed like strident teeth.

"I have a bad feeling about this . . ." Samuel exclaims.

And as soon as the burbling began, the faster did it stop. Soon the waters were clear again, immovable like a calm stream. Samuel couldn't really see anything other than his expression to the grisly lagoon, and so he never figured what had bitten him. And what their next move would be.

He didn't know what else to do, and so he waited for a minute or so before he began to step away. Samuel knew it would be better to head to higher ground to at least ward off some creatures imminent to bite his feet to death. He began to head towards the toppled sofa just a distance away from him.

Samuel began to saunter towards the waters, pus.h.i.+ng away stuffed toys floating atop the grim lagoon. He then proceeded to approach the tumbled sofa. Like a slowly forthcoming tune, the deafening silence slowly began to ease as a faint melody of a music box began to play just as Samuel drew nearer and nearer.

It was a distinct sound of a plain music box. It had the same layer of musical quality as the ones he heard back when he was still studying. Those his female cla.s.smates brought as a gift to each other.

But there was something about the melody that made Samuel stop mid-way. Something that reverberated onto the depths of his soul. He wasn't dramatizing things. He was certain he heard that tune before. Somewhere in his mind, he searched—and as peculiar as it may seem, this Samuel Albrecht, does not seem to recall any memory a.s.sociated with the sound.

He knows he heard it. He knows it played somewhere.

But where?

"Fear," someone says. "Is a strong emotion."

The melody stopped as soon as the voice echoed across the vast. The voice was a girl's.

"Fear is something that powers the dead. And the living creates that fear."

The voice of the doll. The one who called him 'mama'.

And as Samuel blinked— "you fear me, don't you, youngling?"—and before Samuel could even perceive whomever or wherever the voice was coming from, a loud explosion bombarded the vicinity, sending the waters splas.h.i.+ng into a wave.

And rising out of a deep slumber,

Was a large, ripped dark-purple bunny towering over Samuel—and sitting on its shoulder was a doll with brunette hair and a blue gown.

"This was the bunny you've hit me with," says the girl. "MAMA."