Ryan cautiously made his way down the staircase of the mansion. The old yet sturdy wooden steps were covered in a fine layer of undisturbed dust, and the railing was full of cobwebs. With his candle flickering, Ryan could only see only a few feet in front of him and he made sure to stick close to the gray featureless wall so as not to trip.
At the foot of the stairs, Ryan noticed the floor he was standing on wasn't furnished but made of solid rock, the very foundation the building was built on. In front of him was a long dark passageway that would lead him deeper inside. At first he hesitated to proceed but decided to forge ahead. Groping the cold wall, Ryan inched his way into the blackened passage. After what felt like hours (sensory deprivation will do that to you), he suddenly spied an archway ahead. The entrance was relatively big compared to the corridor he was in. Upon closer inspection, Ryan could discern an ornate pattern carved on the portal with some stylized drawings of people. He resolved to find out what was inside the room before returning upstairs. After all, he had already gotten this far.
Upon entering the chamber, Ryan could hardly see anything; the light from his flickering candle couldn't reach far enough to illuminate the entire room. He strained to see through the pitch-black surroundings to no avail. Suddenly, a cold wind extinguished his light source and plunged him into complete and total darkness.
At first Ryan wasn't too worried, he wasn't that far from the tunnel and he could more or less make his way back by feeling the walls. But then he realized, if he was underground, where did the wind come from? And on top of that, he wasn't sure if it was his imagination or not but he felt a presence with him in the room. Not wanting to take any more risks, Ryan decided to just the get hell out of there was quickly as possible. He was about to turn around and head back when a bright flash of light blinded him and knocked him out.
***
When Ryan regained consciousness, his head was killing him. It felt like a sharp nail was lodged directly in his brain. Thankfully the throbbing began to subside after a few minutes. As he about to get up from the ground, he was surprised that he couldn't move his arms or his legs. Also, he realized that he was in total darkness and alone, but someone had shackled his hands and feet to the ground when he was out cold.
"Hello?" he cried out. "Is there anyone out there?" There was no response. "Eric! Mike! Can anyone hear me? It's Ryan! Somebody please help me!"
He continued to struggle against his bonds to no avail. His wrists and ankles were beginning to get sore from the strain. He had no idea how long he'd been stuck down there in the basement, much less where his friends and his brother were at the time and especially if any of them were in similar straits. Then it suddenly came to him: "Oh my god, what if something's happened to Johnny?" Sure he was a pest, but he was still family and he loved him. Ryan became more determined to free himself and screamed out all the louder in the unhearing void.
***
Back upstairs Eric was continuing his exploration of his segment of the manor. So far, he hadn't encountered anything worth noting aside from a few paintings, more like portraits, hanging from the oaken walls. Most of the furniture were draped with dust-covered sheets, indicative of the lack of any activity for the past so many years. Whoever lived in this house had been long gone and hadn't been back since.
He then came upon a very large room with a huge and long rectangular table situated in the center. Two rows of very tall windows straddled the walls along with alternating unlit torches. From beneath the sheets, Eric could count at least sixteen heavy wooden chairs that surrounded the table.
"This must be the dining hall," he assumed. "I wonder where's the kitchen?" Using his flashlight, he scanned the other end of the room until the beam shone upon what looked like a set of double doors. The teen cautiously cut across the room and went through the doors. It was then that Eric realized that he wasn't alone anymore. The moment he entered the adjoining room, he became aware of a presence with him, like someone was breathing heavily. At first he thought his friends were playing a practical joke on him. He called them out, "Mike, is that you out there?" Eric waited for a minute or two for an answer that never came.
"Sei… I know it's you. You better come out before I come after you," he joked. When he didn't get an reply, Eric was starting to get worried. "Ryan? Man, I hope that's you… or maybe it's Johnny. Am I right, you little punk!?" Again, no reply.
Eric was nervous and wasn't sure it was his friends at all out there. "Ha, ha… this isn't funny anymore, guys. Fine, I admit it. You guys got me good." He was desperate in trying to put on a brave face. "Now get out from wherever you're hiding before I find you and kick your collective asses." Suddenly, he heard a distinctive noise somewhere in front of him. He immediately directed his flashlight to the source of the sound and gasped at the sight of what had been stalking him.
"Jesus. H. Christ."