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The pulsing flicker of the screen, shining an omniscient blue onto the forest's tall, lush, and grassy landscape below. The blue glow was only dim—but bright in contrast to the dark shades of green, the wilderness's color palette all around.The glowing was getting more intense, the flickering of light getting faster, more repetitive. It was as if you could hear static from the screen—the sound nearing—getting louder.With a small grunt and a crack of the screen, the flickering and the pulse of light was set to a halt, and something else came from it instead.A boy in a trench coat and a paper bag on his head was out from the screen—and onto the grass below, the screen now shattered.He slowly sat up, clutching his paper bag to keep it over his head. The grass around him was covering half of his body as he stayed in that position, the long fabric of his trench coat flowing only slightly behind him due to the wind passing by.He turned his head, slight confusion taking place as he looked at the shattered TV screen behind him, darkness and small shards being the only thing seen inside the "box of entertainment."Then he was hit with a sudden throb in his head, making him groan and clutch his paper bag tighter, both hands firm around it. His mind hazed if only for a second, and he found his gaze moving, looking through the eye-holes in his paper bag, taking in the environment around him.And then the throbbing stopped, and the boy gave a small sigh. He slowly got up, using his arms to push himself off the grass and onto his bare feet.Stilling, he blinked a few times, looking ahead of him. Tall, towering trees that made him feel like an ant were in the distance and alongside him, opaque fog, and
shadowed silhouettes behind the trees, making it so he couldn't see anything past that point. The ground was mostly covered with grass, mingled with the hard surface of rocks and pebbles, small twigs and sticks, and vast amounts of leaves.He inched forward, his gaze wandering with the curiosity of a child.As he traversed through the wilderness, he'd found that there were many traps, tunnels, logs, and various things in his path that slowed his pace—he didn't have a goal as of now, he felt that something kept pushing him forwards. His curiosity, and the feeling that he'd been here before.Of course, he felt surprised when he had come across the alarming traps and the questionable tied cloth full of bodies that was hanging from a tree.. but at the sametime, he felt like he'd seen it somewhere before.Like he was there, but he wasn't. As if he had seen everything before, but.. he forgot.He jumped down from a vertical log, landing onto the grass-filled ledge in front of him with a grunt, still stuck in his pondering.He looked ahead of him. There were no more traps in sight, just more grass that went up to his foot.Walking forward, he was caught off guard. His gaze scanned over the house in front of him, feeling surprised, but with a small, undoubtable sense of familiarity."A.. cabin?" He muttered to himself, his voice toned with confusion and wonder. The wooden house's roof and walls towered over him, like the forest's trees. He looked at the small cages in front of the house, then his gaze wandered to the large porch, and finally, to the open window, accompanied by boxes and miscellaneous stuff below it that he could climb up on to get inside.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
As the paper-bag-headed boy stepped in through the window, he took a moment to register his surroundings. He was standing atop a kitchen counter, and he was in a kitchen, where there was a large table in the center of the space that was littered with glass bottles, cans, and unappetizing, slimy food—where more bottles lay on the surrounding counters. There was a tea kettle on the stove, steam still rising above it, and a hanging lamp right over the table, further showcasing the visually inedible items. There was a door on the opposite side of the kitchen and a window that was boarded up above the sink, where a tall pile of unwashed plates lay. On the further right side, close to the door, there was a fridge, but he'd have to jump to reach the handle.
Jumping down from the counter with his trench coat flowing behind him, the boy carefully avoided stepping on any shards of glass on the floor near the table, as he, was unfortunately barefoot. He assumed that because of the still-active tea kettle on the stove, there had to be someone still within the cabin.
He walked up to the fridge, a common curiosity rising in his 10-year-old noggin as to what could be it's contents, judging by the unappetizing food atop the table that honestly looked like slimy animal organs and bowls of whatnot or something similar.
He hopped up with a small grunt, reaching for the fridge handle and pulling it down. Because of his size, he found that when he grabbed the handle, his legs were dangling a good few inches above the ground, and his hands were still gripped onto the fridge handle as the door slowly moved open, taking him with it.
He let go of the handle, landing on the wooden floor with a small sound. His eyes started to scan the contents of the fridge without touching them. Surprisingly, the food in the fridge looked.. at the least, edible, but he'd rather just have a simple breadstick—it would last someone the same height as him a while, after all.
Tearing his focus away from the fridge, (which he didn't bother to close,) he moved over to the door nearby.
It was open for some reason, so all he had to do was give it a little push and sneak in through the little space he had made for himself to enter.
With a small creak, he slid through the door crack, and on the other side, he was met with a gentle sound—no, a lullaby.
The alluring lullaby spread throughout the depths of the cabin—echoing off the walls, and through the small hallway on his right that was connected to more rooms. Every few seconds, he'd noticed, that as the lullaby played, there would be a faint winding noise in between, meaning that it had come from some sort of toy or something related to it.
Whatever it was, it sounded nice to him, and he couldn't help but listen to the gentle song for just a moment.
He also noticed, however, the lullaby seemed to be coming from the slightly open door just a few steps in front of him, which was held open by some stacked crates and a singular box on top.
Steadily, he creaked the door open a little further, squeezing through the space and climbing down the small set of stairs. He found himself in what seemed to be a basement.
The place was clattered with random things mostly related to sewing and whatnot. For some unknown reason, there were multiple large bags of cotton next to the staircase, the bags his height or even slightly taller than that. There was also a large sewing machine that was lying on a tall table, with some rolls of thread right next to it, while some were on the floor.
There was something else, however. A wooden door that looked a bit damaged as it had visible cracks and varying holes, where he could see a room on the other side if he squinted enough.
He walked, his eyes set on the worn
out door in front. Each step he would take forward towards it, the lullaby had gotten louder. To the source of the sound. He was going in the right direction, but he wasn't sure if he ended up here because of curiosity, or because of fate.
When he reached the battered door, he gave it a small push to test its strength, and in return, the door gave a small creak. Though the sound
wasn't that audible over the lullaby, he could've sworn that he heard the song pause for just a split second before playing again.
He turned around. The door wasn't weak enough for him to push open, but if he could hit it with some sort of tool or object, he was sure that he could make an entrance.
His eyes scanned the space of the basement for something that seemed useful—then he spotted a knife, a butcher's knife, to be exact, that was stabbed into a crate nearby all the bags full of cotton.
Walking over, he hopped up, grabbing onto the knife handle in hopes to pull it out with his body weight. He wiggled his feet only slightly until he could see the knife getting slowly pried out.
Pull
Pull
Pull
And.. at last, he fell back onto the wooden floor of the basement, having pried something out.
Was it the knife?
No. It was the knife handle, somehow completely broken off from the blade itself.
He stared at the handle in his hand with disbelief. Was it that old? It looked like a normal, durable.. just a shiny, good knife when he first saw it. But now, it wasn't even a knife. Just two halves of one. One half in his hand, and the other half still stabbed into the wooden crate.
He gave a sigh, leaving the handle on the ground and standing back up.
The knife was an obvious disappointment, so he just had to find something else to make an entrance through the door.
Tilting his head, he noticed a room on the other side of the staircase. And with logic, he walked towards it, his eyes scanning the interior with curiosity and hopes of finding something..
His head jerked up as his gaze landed on a hatchet, also stabbed into a crate among many other crates in the room. For some unnatural reason, there was a small light being reflected just on the top sharp edge of the hatchet, making it stand out despite the wooden environment of the basement.
He grasped the wooden handle of the hatchet, making sure to not touch any of the small splinters sticking out.
Gritting his teeth, he tried to get the hatchet out.
Pulllll
-And then, he fell back onto the wooden floor again.
However, this time, his fall was accompanied by a louder, metal clatter—the sound of the hatchet falling to the ground.
Quickly, he scrambled to his knees, taking hold of the hatchet. He positioned it behind him, both his arms at his side as he held the handle; the sharpest edge of the hatchet dragging against the floor as he carried it with him to the
battered door where the lullaby was still playing in repeat.
When he reached the door, a small groan of effort left his mouth as he used the limited strength he had to lift the hatchet overhead him, ready to strike the door.
Thwack!
He hit the door once, a small hole now visible where he attacked, particle bits of wood sent flying. The lullaby stopped, and he heard a faint metal clatter from the room within.
Paying no mind to this for now, he lifted the hatchet overhead himself again, almost immediately striking the door.
More visible bits of wood were seen flying from the impact, some pieces landing on the ground. He had to catch himself when his knees bucked because of the force.
As quickly as it came, he dropped the hatchet out of tenseness and it fell to the ground with another clatter. The small hole in the door that he had made from the first hit was now bigger and more open, however there were some splinters hanging onto the jagged outline of the freshly-made space. It was big enough for him to squeeze through, so that's what he did.
Upon his entrance into the room, he noticed that it was much smaller than he expected. There was a rectangular rug lying on the ground, and a table right in front of his point of view. He looked to the wall on the right, noticing tally marks and peculiar drawings.
There was what seemed to be an odd creature with a pyramid-shaped head and a few random stick figures alongside it, though the figures didn't seem like they had a lot of importance. Everything drawn and written was in white chalk. The pyramid-shaped headed creatures were called "Nomes," without the common 'g' you'd see in the name when written out. He had seen some of them in the forest. They were passive, yet very skittish as they got startled so easily. They were also considerably fast, so it was hard to keep track of them.
He assumed that the tally marks represented a unit of some sort of time, but he didn't see anyone in the room. There were a lot of tally marks on the wall.
He looked down, a music box spotted on the ground. He quickly realized that it was the source of the earlier lullaby. It was a round music box with some strange symbols on the sides of it. It was rolling, but just barely; it was only because of it’s cylindrical form.
There were fish hooks hanging from something on the ceiling, some shelves a little bit further above the chalk drawings and tallies. There were also some random crates stacked beside the table, filled with miscellaneous items and whatnot.
Then, he heard a faint rustle of clothing, coming from somewhere near the table, or perhaps..
His gaze darted over to the table, curiosity peaked.
There was the faintest shine of hair, slowly fading into sight from under the table as the shadow of the table was pushed back.
It was a girl. Wearing a cardigan.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
The girl was skittish, and she appeared to be wearing a long gray cardigan and white shorts. She had bangs covering her eyes, and her hair was a bit messy, scruffed slightly in some spots.
They met eye contact, both of them hesitant, unsure what to do.
The paper bag-boy kneeled down towards her, slowly extending his hand in a friendly gesture and inviting the girl to grab it.
She was still hesitant, reaching out a hand in return. Her hand was wavering over his, and she was still looking up at him. For a second, the boy had a flicker of recognition at her appearance, but that just brought confusion to his thoughts a second after it dissipated.
Their hands were about to meet, when suddenly, the girl pushed the paper-bag-headed boy to the side, running past him and through the convenient hole he had made in the door. He fell to the floor with a soft grunt, blinking.
The boy quickly brought himself back up, adjusting his paper bag with a gentle rustle and then running after the girl.
"Wait!" He called after her, his voice echoing through the hollow walls of the basement as he stumbled back up the stairs. He caught a glimpse of her, peeking over as he followed the girl's path. He chased her throughout the hallway, an odd dining room, then up a cabinet and through a vent.
He followed her behind as they crawled through the vent, her silhouette disappearing as she made her way out.
Then, he fell from the other side of the vent, finding himself on stable ground, and most importantly—catching sight of the girl.
She was trying to pull on a handle, but why?—his gaze moved over to the attic trapdoor near it on the ceiling.
The girl jumped up, trying to tug the handle down again. The paper bag boy slowly approached her, taking a small step closer. He didn't mean any harm, he just wanted to talk to her. Possibly.. they could become friends.
The girl lost her grip of the handle and fell to the ground with a thud, landing on the rug beneath. Her body weight wasn't enough to completely pull the handle down and open the trapdoor.
As the boy slowly approached, taking another step closer, the girl in the cardigan quickly snapped her head to the side, looking at him with a small gasp at his sudden appearance. She hadn't noticed him before.
This caused the paper bag boy to halt in his tracks, slowly raising his hands slightly to visualize that he meant no harm.
The girl in the cardigan seemed tense, and so was he. The girl glanced up, at the handle, then back down, at him. With a small whisper, her stance relaxed only slightly, and she beckoned him over with a gesture of her hand.
"Hey.. Come here,"
And the paper bag boy slowly did, approaching her once more.
Once they were in close proximity of each other, the girl bent her knees slightly, reaching both her hands out to him. The paper bag boy looked at her, confused.
She gave a small sigh, quickly explaining, "Pull yourself onto my hands, and i'll push you up so you can grab the handle."
He nodded. "Okay, but.. What's your name?"
The girl was about to relax her stance, before replying, "I'll tell you when we get the attic open,"
With another nod and barely-heard rustle of his paper bag, the boy quickly pushed himself up and onto her hands, where she swiftly pushed him up with a grunt of effort. The paper bag boy jumped up, then secured his grip on the handle. The handle lowered slightly, but yet again, he wasn't heavy enough to open the attic.
The girl followed suit shortly after, hopping up and grabbing onto his foot, lowering the handle further more and adding to the weight.
With a loud creak, the attic door flew open, a ladder conveniently sliding down along with it. The pair both fell to the ground with a thud.
The paper bag boy looked at her once more, as they were both sat on the floor due to the fall.
"So.. what's your name, then?"
The girl stayed silent for a moment, as if contemplating. She shifted her posture on the floor.
"It's.. Six. Six is my name."
The boy gave a nod. It didn't take long for him to reply.
"Okay. My name is Mono,"
Six helped herself off the ground, looking at him.
"Huh. Mono. That's kinda a strange name, don't ya think?" She says, tilting her head slightly to the side.
Mono does the same, stabling himself on the ground.
"And what about your name? It's a number." He says defensively, crossing his arms.
Six just shook her head, jabbing a finger at him in a pointing gesture.
"Mono can also mean one. And one's a number too."
The paper bag child simply sighed and walked over to her, grabbing hold of her hand and dragging her to the attic ladder. Six simply just looked at him in surprise for a moment, but let it pass. They had just met, yet this boy was already so insistent on holding her hand. She assumed they were allies, at the least, now, though none of them had mentioned anything about it.
They both climbed up the attic ladder, Mono going first. When they reached the top, both of them still had a common curiosity.
Attics are commonly filled with a lot of miscellaneous items and objects and whatnot, right? It was a particularly dusty attic, but they couldn't help take a little while to look around.
The pair climbed over the cabinet in their way, hopping over something to get to the other side.
Six found a random thumbtack in between the cracks of the wooden floorboards, and Mono had found a striped scarf.. with holes.
The cardigan girl poked herself slightly with the pointy tip, giving a gentle wince before looking back at Mono.
He was wearing the scarf around his neck, overlapping his paper bag.
"How do I look, Six?"
He asked, a slight tinge of excitement seeping into his voice.
"Hmm.. I dunno.. I can't really see your face, so.."
Mono's shoulders slump slightly,
"You don't need to see my face, just tell me if it looks nice,"
Six huffs before replying.
"Fine, fine.. It looks okay, but maybe try a scarf with less holes?"
She suggests.
Mono gives a small sigh, unwrapping the scarf around his neck and then stuffs it into.. a pocket in his trench coat, maybe.
"No more scarves here," He reasons.
Six shrugs, leaving the thumbtack on the ground. "Maybe we should try to get the key, up there. Remember? There was a locked door right outside of the entrance to the attic."
Mono nods, "Oh yeah, you're right! I can attach the key to.."
He spins around, gesturing to the key strap on the other side of his trench coat, "This!"
Six nods, looking back up to where the key is. It was dangling on a fish hook. She crosses her arms.
"What kind of person would put a key on a fish hook, and in plain sight? They're stupid.” She comments.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Now, they were both trying to figure out how to reach the mentioned key. It was clear to Mono and Six that obtaining the key was the only way to actually get anywhere.
The duo had their eyes fixed on the shiny, —was it gold? material of said key, just dangling there. Again, on a fishhook of all things.
The cardigan girl noticed that there was a rope tied to the top of the fishhook, and in which the rope was connected to some strange valve on a skinny wooden pillar. The opposite side of the rope was connected to a suspiciously cocoon-shaped bag, or wrapped cloth, she couldn't tell. It was very large, clearly. There was similar cocoon-like wrapped cloth next to it. It looked strangely climbable. What was in it, neither of them could tell either.
She turned to the bag boy, who was tinkering with the valve on the pillar. He also met her gaze shortly after, though one of his hands was still set on the valve.
"This needs a lever, or a button, I think. Something like that," Mono claimed.
Six looked thoughtful, her gaze unconsciously drifting elsewhere; exploring the surroundings of the attic even as they both had already looked around.
"You think there's a random lever or button somewhere here we haven't checked?" She inquired.
Mono shrugged, taking his hand off of the valve to turn away.
"Maybe over there," The bag boy pointed.
Six brought her gaze back to where he was looking at. There was a cabinet, small crates, and some shelves blocking off the left-side of the attic, again filled with more miscellaneous stuff.
Mono turned back to face the cardigan girl, and the said cardigan girl took a few steps closer.
"You could help me over the cabinet," He suggested. „I'll look for the lever or button from there."
Six gave a cooperative nod. It sounded easy. "Kay, sure."
They both moved over to the cabinet, and as Six did last time, she hoisted Mono up with her hands. Mono grasped the ledge of the cabinet and looked over the other side.
Six turned her head up, curiosity taking a hold of her thoughts as she watched the bag boy subtly move his head left and right, his gaze still looking over the countless objects on the other side. His back was facing her.
"See something useful for the valve? Anything?" The cardigan girl called out in question.
"Mm-mm." Mono denied with a hum, shaking his head (or paper bag) gently.
"But there's a crawl-space. I'm going to go see if there's something over there, okay Six? I'll be right back!" She found that his voice faded rather quickly.
Six just nodded, though Mono couldn't see it, (and did not, in any matter, give the girl enough time to reply properly) and plopped into an immediate sitting position on the floorboards below. This was followed by a small creak of the wood. She heard a thud from the other side of the cabinet, which probably meant that Mono had hopped down and started looking for the unspecified object that they needed for the valve.
~~~
It was pretty dusty in the crawlspace, and Mono had to hold in a sneeze. It wasn't like he expected it not to be— after all, he was in a space which was just under a bunch of shelves, and the creaks of the worn wooden floorboards beneath him signified that the attic was left untouched 90% of the time, or was just really, really old.
He plopped out on the other side of the crawlspace, and was met with some light shining in on him. Visible dust particles were in his sight, revealed by said light. There were more crates and another cabinet, along with more miscellaneous stuff. But, there was also some.. strange, adult, life-sized doll in a rocking chair. He almost thought it was alive. What was the most important detail to Mono was the shiny, metal, cylindrical thing that was in the doll's hand.
A handle. or lever. Nonetheless, it was what he and Six were looking for.
He stumbled over to grab it, and he found that it was awfully hard to pry out of the doll's hands. As if it were actually alive, and tugging, pulling at the handle with reciprocation.
But before he knew it, he had fallen back on the floorboards with the metal handle in his arms, whilst the doll's arm was detached from its own body with cotton spilling out of it. He had almost gasped in surprise when he fell back, obviously not having expected the doll's arm to come off as a whole. There were also some small pieces of cotton dusting his coat.
At least it wasn't actually alive, he reassured himself. He wouldn't know what to say to Six, and he wasn't even sure if the girl even considered him her friend yet, since they just met and all. It was reasonable. Also, he wasn't all that fond of the thought of hurting anyone right now, it was just for the slippery chances of survival.
Though.. he was still questioning the odd familiarity he felt whenever he looked at Six. Like a spark trying to ignite in his mind but always dying out.
Anyways, whoever owns this doll, and this cabin is plain weird. Mono let out a huff, taking one final glance at the amputated cotton doll, (which was still very creepy to him, mind you) and turned away, handle still in his grip. It was a bit heavy, as was literally everything else, (not that he could mind his size), but he was sure that he could just throw it over the cabinet so that Six could place it on the valve.
Crouching down with the handle in front of the crawlspace, he—
Croak.
A frog? What was that? He spun his head around, almost letting the handle slip out of his hands.
Triangle headed creature. Small body, big, pyramid-like head. Very papery skin. Also, no visible mouth or eyes.
He thought, before realizing.
A Nome! That's what it is. Six had drawn it on the wall of the room she had been in, and he had seen some before himself, but what was it doing here? And next to the murderous crime scene of the doll?
He dropped the handle, standing and taking one last glance at the metal object to make sure it would stay there before fully turning his attention to the nome.
Croak.
It croaked again, barely moving its head but letting out a slightly higher pitched sound than the last one.
Mono just stared at it, tilting his head slightly. He was curious, and confused.
"Do you need something?" He voiced his thought into an audible question, though not speaking too loud in fear that he might startle the nome off.
The nome just moved its head again, but in a certain direction. Before Mono could say anything, it scampered off and up a cabinet in the room, before moving to climb again and into a trapdoor opening in the roof that he hadn't noticed before.
Mono hesitated. He still didn't know if the nome wanted him to follow it or not, since it had run off so fast, and in a very strange way, excuse him. Like it was waddling or something. He glanced over at the handle, still on the floor behind him, and then up, at the newfound opening on the roof.
He decided to trust his gut feeling to follow the nome, along with his growing curiosity. He just hoped that his growing curiosity didn't outweigh Six's patience, and that he wasn't taking too long. He didn't want her to leave while he was still on the other side. Obviously she wouldn't, right? He considered them friends.
Why is he getting so worked up over it?
He shook his head.
The nome. Right.
He followed the nome’s steps, climbing up the cabinet and then into the opening in the roof.
More dust flew into his face. Sure, he was wearing a paper bag, but that did not mean he was incapable of breathing dust or other particles in through the cutout eye holes or from the large opening at the bottom of the bag. So he had to hold in another sneeze. Part of him was wondering if he had developed allergies to dust. He did not know if that was considered normal; he had no medical knowledge whatsoever. The only medical-related thing that he did know about was that open cuts could get infected and he needed a bandaid. That was it. He didn’t have any band aids in the first place, though.. Maybe Six has one?
He was met with the sight of the nome again, and more stuffed-away furniture surrounding them. Like the dusty couch.
Croak.
It croaked again, but more gently this time. As if it were pleased that he followed it. This, however, did not change the fact that Mono was still confused on what it wanted.
The bag boy took a small step forward, reaching out a hand.
"Can I.. touch you?" He spoke, making sure he had the right.
Maybe he could hold its hand or something. He was not really set
on what he was going to do, he just wanted to gain its trust. That should be easy if he was nice.
Croak.
Another sound from the nome. The small creature looked as hesitant as he did. But, the nome took a step forward too.
As soon as Mono was close enough to touch the creature, it skittered off and hid under one of the many pieces of furniture in the dusty space. He almost fell forward, but caught himself.
The bag boy sighed, but turned his head around, trying to catch sight of the nome.
Croak!
He was a bit startled at the abrupt sound, but followed his ears to where it was coming from. The nome's croak was a little bit muffled, yet louder, more 'punctuated.' Maybe the nome still wanted him to find it? Anyways, it was coming from a piece of furniture, like he had suspected earlier.
The piece of furniture was in fact, the couch he had seen earlier. The cushions looked like they were moving—though barely.
He got up onto the couch cushions and then jumped. Dust went flying everywhere at this action, fading off into the invisible air.
Croak!
The nome croaked again, and it slid out from under the cushions, skittering elsewhere this time.
He could hear the rapid pitter-patter of the creature's footsteps as it scampered around, before coming to a pause. His gaze slid around to search the proximity before landing on yet another piece of furniture—or another miscellaneous object.
It was a dusty, closed suitcase. Mono could tell that the nome was there because it looked like there was movement coming from the suitcase, similar to the couch cushions.
Walking forward, he tried to position his fingers under the lid of the suitcase in an attempt to pry it open.
And almost immediately, the lid flew open, revealing the nome in all its glory—before it scampered off again.
The small creature continued to hide, and from that point, Mono also kept striving and rushing to find it. Eventually it started to get a bit annoying.
But also eventually, the nome ran off somewhere new, somewhere other than the recently discovered room above the attic that he was currently in.
-Behind a strange painting. Mono described the painting as strange not just because of the weird man with a potato-shaped head with inhumane facial anatomy being portrayed on it, but because there was a hole hiding behind the painting.
The hole led some-place else, and that some-place was where the nome went. So Mono followed.
The moment he reached the other side, he was quickly enveloped by pitch black darkness. The only light source in the room were two candles just ahead, and up above him, which illuminated anything in range with their embers. The candles were on.. A shelf, he presumed.
Since he couldn’t reach the candles and use their flames of light for himself, he decided to still try and scout out the nome. Mono couldn’t hear its unique sounds or even catch a glimpse of its papery skin, but he was sure that it was still here.
~~~
And he was right—Not long after he took a few blind steps forward, he heard the flick of a match, and he was met with the sight of the nome lingering just above him on a plank with a lit match in its hand. The nome had a small light source of its own—its own tiny fire. Sure, a single match wasn’t the best light source, but compared to the size of the nome itself, it was practically a torch. A light source was a light source, no matter the qualities.
Whenever Mono would move, the nome would hover above him and bring its match around, as strange as it seemed. The nome was following in his footsteps from above.
Now that he had a ‘portable’ light source wherever he went, he could see some parts of the room illuminated by candlelight and the nome’s match. All the light sources were those that contained fire–something Mono was not too fond of, but it was just something they all had in common.
The room consisted of more shelves, tables? Mono could not tell for sure. But all of them were connected by planks from up above him, which the nome was using to get around. Just like the rest of the attic’s shelves generally, there were miscellaneous items like bottles and cans littering the shelves of the room that he was currently in.
When he took more steps forward, he caught the sight of some bear-traps hanging up just above one of the placed planks. As the nome passed by them, the fire of its match casted an orange tint onto the metal. The nome didn’t seem to be too mindful of the purpose for the hanging traps, so Mono decided that there was no need for him to let his thoughts linger on it for long either.
Mono walked further on into the room, his gaze tracing the outlines of objects and such being newly illuminated by match fire. He helped the nome cross over to another shelf by moving a wheeled platform with a stack of crates or boxes atop it. It was conveniently nearby.
That led the nome and him to continue further on into the darkness. Mono was met face to face with a chain-link fence door, while the nome easily snuck over it from above him. There was a small opening into the other side of the door where the nome was on the shelves.
The nome continued to move, using the small holes in the pattern of the fence to climb over to the top of the door.
And with some metal rattles heard from overhead him, there was a subtle click and the door slowly swung open, with his own hands pushing against the cold, chain-like lining of it.
The nome had unlocked the door for him from up high. That was nice of it. Mono tilted his head up to look at the nome, giving it a small nod. A smile would go easily unnoticed because of his paper bag.
The nome’s skittish figure tilted its head as well, except to the side, and not alike to a nod like he had done. It was watching him and staying still. It looked curious, and it made a small croak that only added to that factor.
Mono looked away, back to observing the inside of the once gate-kept room. It was dim, only illuminated by the candlelight that the nome was still generously giving out - with more crates, glass bottles, and some barrels still littered in the corner. There were some wooden beams that led up to a wooden platform—still above him, but to the side of the room where the nome was standing.
He heard the faint sounds of movement come to a halt as his gaze moved around the room, and yet the room was still made clear by fire-light.
Mono looked up again. The nome had litten a lantern. The room was still a little dim, but was bright enough for him to see things well enough. There was a cobweb just above the lantern. He could probably count the lines of its webby pattern if he wanted to.
Mono looked back to the lever, stepping closer, raising his arms up, and pulling the handle of it down. Immediately, he heard a click from behind him, and he turned around, back to the opening of the gate.
The once-darkened room was now much brighter, even if still slightly dim. There was a ceiling lamp right above all the shelves which was turned on. There were still lit candles left over, but the candlelight and the lamplight both contrasted each other with ease.
Mono’s gaze moved, and he took the new opportunity of light to pull out a drawer of a nearby cabinet and hop up onto the shelves.
He followed the nome’s previous path, passing the small, lit candles that provided an ever-so orange-yellowish tint in their limited range. He balanced across the planks that were set across the shelves, and continued to do so until he was back in the gate-kept room where the lantern was, only on a much higher level than before.
He was on the platform held up by the previous wooden beams. Mono tilted his head to look down. There was a peculiar nome-head shaped thing at his feet. Papery skin, and cone shaped. But it wasn’t an alive nome; the thing had no body.
Mono picked it up, holding the nome object closer to his head to inspect it better and more up-close.
It was a hat, he had realized.
Mono carefully, yet hastily slipped his paper bag off of his head, folding it, and putting the nome hat in the bag’s original position. He wondered how he looked right now. It was a bit difficult for him to see, but he still could somehow.
He heard a croak, and a creak of wood.
The nome was there. Mono hadn’t noticed it had ever left—he was too focused on the nome hat.
It was breaking through a frail plank, leaving an opening. Mono figured that was where he could leave the room. The nome paused as it saw him, noticing Mono staring. It hung onto another plank just under its feet.
The nome tilted its head. Mono stayed still.
The nome continued to move, disregarding Mono. It somehow could probably tell that the boy was wearing a hat.
Mono didn’t sigh, however, he instead pulled his paper bag back on, now holding the nome hat in his arms.
He decided that he was going to keep it. Having a selection of hats to choose from sounded nice. Briefly, the boy shifted his weight around and stuffed the nome hat into his trench coat pocket.
His gaze was back onto the opening that the nome had made in a patch of uncovered planks in the wall.
He landed down with a small grunt, and hopped up onto the planks, anchoring his feet and arms to climb into the hole - the opening.
Then, Mono squeezed through, barely catching himself as he found himself falling for a moment. He was on a wooden platform, and in an enclosed space, the pattern of planks on either side of him. The only direction he was able to go was down.
So the bag boy hopped down, planked-patterning still surrounding him, until he was met with another opening and a single plank in his way. There was the faintest glow of light being emitted from the opening, so Mono knew that it was the right direction.
He shifted, hands tight on the plank, before he leaned back, a small creak being heard as he pulled the wood off.
Now, he was met face-to-face with Six, a.k.a cardigan girl.
She crossed her arms, though the girl didn’t look all that upset.
“Took you long enough.”
Six’s gaze fell to Mono’s hands - she noticed they were empty.
She straightened.
“Where’s the lever? The handle? Do you have it?”
The cardigan girl questioned. If her eyes weren’t covered by her hair, Mono was sure that she would be raising an eyebrow.
Then.. realization dawned on him. He left the lever back there. It was still next to the crawlspace under the shelves, on the floor.
“Sorry.” He shifted slightly.“I got it. I just left it back at the other shelves. I’ll be quick this time, I promise.”
Mono swore, swiftly walking past Six to re-retrieve the metal handle.