Several hours pass in silence as you sit in the study reading. Reading is one of the few real pleasures you have left in life, and you're extremely thankful for it. You find this book in particular, a treatise on the human condition, to be absolutely fascinating. You can't say why, exactly, but something about the content stirs a warm feeling inside you and compels you to keep reading. Perhaps it's because you've been completely detatched from human contact for so long; trapped as you are, inside this supernatural prison, it feels good to read about other people, if only to live vicariously through them. Your eyes dart across the pages as you voraciously devour and digest sentence upon sentence. This book is divided into twenty-six chapters... and you've already finished twenty of them.
Coming to the end of the twenty-first, you turn the page to find the introduction to the next chapter. The introduction page draws your eye. It is nearly blank, except for a few words centered on the page, in larger than normal typeface:
Chapter 22: Schadenfreude
Interesting, you think. Anxious to jump into the next chapter, you turn the page. But... something isn't right.
The pages are completely blank.
You stare at the book, slightly thrown off from your rhythm. A printing error, perhaps? You turn to the next page. To your dismay, though, you find only blank pages once more. Slightly annoyed, you flip through the book. No, this can't be. All of the pages are blank now, even the ones you've already read!
Utterly irritated, you put the book down and scan the shelves for another. You will not let the house deter you from finding some measure of enjoyment. You select a book and open it... only to find that it too is blank.
You spend the next several minutes desperately searching for a book that actually still has words-- but much to your frustration, there is not a single one left. Even the reference books have been blanked out. By the time you are finished searching, you have worked yourself into a fury.
Then it dawns on you-- the meaning of the title of that chapter you never got to read.
The house is playing with you again... and it's not being nice about it. It's trying to break you, trying to break your spirit, your will to fight back. And, if that title is any indication, it's enjoying every minute of your suffering.
The thought is too much for you to bear. The house is laughing at you now... No. You're not going to let it break you. If you suffer over this, you're only giving it what it wants. You decide the best way to proceed is to let the incident go. You take a deep breath, count to ten, and retain your calm. If you can't read a book... well, you're hungry anyway. Maybe you can just make yourself some lunch and find something else to do.
You walk to the kitchen and search for something to eat. You are stunned to find the cabinets empty. This isn't right, either-- they were stocked full just this morning! You run outside. If the kitchen is empty, perhaps you can still at least pick some apples.
When you reach the trees, however, you find them completely devoid of fruit. You're not sure how that is possible, but then nothing else during this whole strange ordeal has seemed possible either. What is the house trying to do, starve you to death? A cold thought surfaces in the back of your mind and seizes you. You've upset the house by refusing to play by its rules. It couldn't actually be willing to just watch you die now... could it? Oh, this is not good, not good at all. You've been here for a long time now, acclimatizing to being trapped. Despite its imprisonment of you, and all the transformations and indignities you've been made to suffer, though, the house up to now has been benevolent enough to at least sustain you. Even now, knowing that the house is not pleased with you-- you've taken it in stride, preparing your own meals, fearlessly exploring the unknown rooms, and learning to derive some actual enjoyment here and there. For the first time, though, you're painfully aware of just how dependent upon the house you have become, and how much you take for granted that it wants to keep you alive. If the house ever lost interest in even keeping you alive... You shudder at the thought. You hate to admit it, but you know the truth from the bottom of your heart.
If the house ever wanted to finish you, it would. You wouldn't stand a chance.
Something inside you-- your basest survival instinct-- sets in. The house isn't just fooling around anymore. You promised yourself a day off, but that's no longer a promise you can afford to keep. You have no time to waste. You have to get out of this house, before it has the chance to finish you. It's time to get back to mapping the hedge maze. Even if it is futile, you have to try.
Determined to break free, and knowing now that your very life depends upon your success, you return to the study to retrieve your maps. What you find absolutely horrifies you.
Your maps are gone. All of them, just vanished. Months, or maybe years of hard work, all up in smoke. The books, the desk, the telescope too. Everything from the study has completely disappered, leaving a blank room. Blank, that is, except for a small table in the corner, upon which sits a single piece of fruit. Rather than the apples you're so used to, however, this fruit is a pear.
The house is forcing you to make a difficult decision. By now, you're absolutely famished, and this is the only food you've got now. But can you really trust that this pear isn't just a trap?
What will you do?