Fiction On Odyssey: The Adventure
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Politics and Activism

Fiction On Odyssey: The Adventure

This is the eighth piece in the Pinkerton Puzzle

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Fiction On Odyssey: The Adventure
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Guy Grey and Iris Ryan were perhaps an unmatched pair, but today, their actions were nearly in sync with one another’s. Today was the day to explore 303 Pinkerton Way. Iris was nervous because of her last experience, and was relying on another’s company to make the trip less terrifying. Guy was nervous because he never wanted to even drive by that house, let alone step inside. They spent their classes tapping their desks, watching the clock hands tick slowly, and counting down their preoccupied seconds until it was time to leave.

Once the bell rang, signalling the end of the school day, the two of them collected at Iris’s brother’s car. They nodded to each other, but said little else. Iris drove the whole fifteen minute drive without bothering to turn on the radio. They could sense each other’s anxiousness, but neither commented on it. They drove and parked in silence. Guy had decided to pull out his cards once they parked, wanting to shuffle them for good luck. Iris stared at them. “Do those really work?” she asked.

Guy looked at her, grinning nervously. “Depends if you believe in them or not.”

“You do?” she asked.

Guy ignored her question. He split the deck into thirds, chose a third, and split it again. Please, he thought to himself. Please tell me we’re not going to die in there. From the deck he chose, he selected a card. He took a deep breath before turning it over.

The card that faced him was labelled Death.

Guy met Iris’s gaze. “No,” he said, tucking the cards back into his backpack. “They’re just fun to play with. Let’s go on and get this over and done.”

Iris did not feel the need to question him further. She was spooked enough as it was.

They moved in what felt like slow motion towards the porch of 303 Pinkerton Way. Iris shouldered and re-shouldered her bag. Iris did not remove anything from her last adventure to this house from her bag, but somehow, she felt the weight was off. Guy kept checking his pockets repeatedly, mentally and physically making sure his house keys and phone were in his pockets. Keys he felt in his front pocket. Phone he felt in his back.

As they reached the front door, Iris had the urge to knock. She lifted her right fist to the old door and tapped it just once. Guy stared at her in confused. “Uh, nobody lives here, right?”

“Right,” Iris said slowly. The door swung open for them. She looked to him and shrugged. “It felt comforting.” She walked inside a few steps, cautiously. She turned slightly to glance back at Guy. “You’re coming in, right?”

“Of course,” he remarked. Swallowing down the urge to be sick, Guy walked inside 303 Pinkerton Way. He moved to shut the heavy front door behind him. It refused to move. He shrugged and let it stay open.

The interior of the house, to Guy, looked well-kept, almost as if somebody did live there. It was far too clean, with lights that weren’t burnt out and a carpet that looked vacuumed. “Looks nice, yeah?” Iris said to him quietly. “Wait until you hear the noise.”

“Noise?” he asked. “What noise?”

“There was a noise,” Iris whispered. “Last time I was here.”

“You’ve been here before?”

“That’s not important but, yes,” she admitted. “I have been. And last time I was here, there was a noise.” She opened her mouth to describe the noise, but she needn’t have. The noise began without hesitation. Iris immediately covered her ears and closed her eyes. Guy stared at her, confused. He couldn’t tell what the sound was, but the vibrations were familiar to him.

“That’s the noise?” he shouted. She did not hear him. He reached out and grabbed her. “That sounds like an amp!”

“An ant?” she shouted back.

Guy shook his head. “AMP. A. M. P. An amplifier!”

“What?!” Iris still did not understand.

Guy nodded. “I’m going to go find it. Come with me.” He took her hand- something she frowned at- and led her around, following the noise. He wasn’t sure exactly what was being played through the amp, but only one piece of musical equipment to rattle a structured building like this. He marched with her in tow towards the back of the house, into the kitchen, where there was in fact an amp plugged into a computer. He yanked the cord connecting the two and the noise ceased instantaneously. Iris uncovered her ears.

“What the hell?” she said, her voice still louder than normal volume.

Guy looked to her and shrugged. “I have no idea. My guess is that somebody doesn’t want any visitors in the house.”

“But why not? Nobody lives here,” Iris commented.

“Maybe it’s just to keep it pretty,” he suggested half-heartedly. He was beginning to feel sick again. “Maybe we should go.”

“Are you chickening out on me?”

“Of course not! It’s just-”

“Creepy,” Iris finished. “I know. I’m usually not creeped out by shit like this but….” she trailed off and looked around. “Something isn’t right here. Maybe we should go. Your first exploration can be somewhere else.”

“I appreciate it,” said Guy. “Though I am curious about this place, I do not want to spend another second here.”

The front door then slammed shut. “Strong wind?” Iris asked.

The locks on the front door clicked, one by one, into place. The two of them held their breath, suddenly aware that they weren’t alone in the house.“I don’t think the wind can lock doors,” Guy whispered.

“There has to be another way out,” Iris whispered. She stepped out of the kitchen and into the dining room. She pointed to a badly-patched over section in the wall. “I bet you that’s a hole in the wall.” She walked over to it, silently, and tapped the section. “It’s hollow. Let’s break it.”

“Are you serious?” Guy whispered, coming over to her. “Absolutely not! If there’s really someone else here, they’re going to hear that!”

Iris ignored him, covered her hand with her jacket sleeve and slammed her fist into the wall. Then she slammed it again. And again. And again. It cracked open. She moved to peel away the wall coverings when she heard the unmistakable click of the safety being removed from a gun.

“I would stop that, if I were you,” said Mr. Longfellow, pointing the pistol towards Guy’s head.

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This article has not been reviewed by Odyssey HQ and solely reflects the ideas and opinions of the creator.
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