The Woodland Mansion

Kit frowned from where she was perched on the ladder, flipping open book after book and sliding them back on to the shelves.

"Most of these are classics- not reprinted either. The latest date I've found is 1914." She held up Kafka's The Trial.

Leo called from the other side of the room, "No luck here, either. These books are in great condition, though."

"I found perfect first editions of Frankenstein and Hamlet," he informed them from his spot at the table. He currently had one of the books propped up in front of him, his elbow resting on the table's wooden surface.

Then, realizing they were talking about something else, he ducked his head down in embarrassment. "All of the books I've found are from before the twenty-first century."

"Hamlet?" Leo spluttered, "how? That would be nearly impossible to preserve." He unfolded himself from the large pile of books that had been gathering around him, putting down the one in his hand, which he may or may not have been reading.

Kit glanced over at Griffith before reshelving some books and walking over to a new shelf. Her head had started to spin with the spell of the books and the sheer timelessness of the room. It had seemed to be modeled after a 19th century study, furniture style and all, though there was no sign of dust or decay.

"Maybe it was preserved with magic?" he suggested, raising his head back up to look at the books he had found. He closed the one he was in the middle of reading as he did so. While he was in the middle of his search, he caught sight of something in a glass case.

He hopped to his feet and rushed over to it. Peering down at the book inside, he gave an excited squeal. "A Gutenberg Bible!" he exclaimed, pressing his hands up against the glass as he marveled at what he had just discovered. "I haven't seen one of those since I lived in Germany!"

He would have likely continued to stare at the glass case if a sudden burst of an unfamiliar, invasive warmth didn't come rushing through the library. He couldn't have possibly guessed it, but the warmth had gotten to every part of the mansion. He didn't like the feeling in the slightest. Even after it ended, he still didn't feel right. He felt like he was beginning suffocated by his own body, and it just felt so tedious to move-

He caught a glimpse of his reflection in the glass case. Something about him didn't look right - the clothes looked far older than they had earlier. Going off of a hunch he didn't like at all, he lifted up part of his wig to get a closer look at himself.

His face was covered in decaying flesh.

He gave a scream that was cut short by a moan from his own lips. He stumbled back into the shelf behind him, nearly knocking the books down on himself in the process. He just stood there and stared blankly at the wall across from him, trying to comprehend what he had just seen. With a shaking finger, he pulled up his information in front of him - something that the others couldn't see.

"I-I broke it," he said, eyes wide as he sunk to the floor with a moan. "I broke the system. How could I even break something like that?"

Sieben slipped inside the library after the others, unsure of the entire situation but also recognizing that there was a certain amount of safety in numbers. He'd never been much of a bookworm, like his mentor before him, but he did enjoy some of the classics when he got time.

The heartbeats went silent. He froze, his senses disappearing on him without warning - the breathing, the movements, the minute details of things that he'd been noticing a moment ago were suddenly gone, and he had no idea why.

Kit suddenly clutched the bookcase, something pulsing and uncomfortable running through her. She took a few deep breaths and stepped down from the ladder. It seemed as if she was seeing things through dim lighting, and her extra senses and gifts seemed to be completely gone. She turned at a noise behind her. Griffith's clothes seemed to be decayed, and... so was the little bit of flesh she could she. She covered her mouth and horror, too shocked to make a sound.

Leo suddenly couldn't breathe. He lay on the floor, surrounded by books, and attempted to stand. He couldn't do that either. All he could manage was to look down at himself- a huge, scaly fish tail flopped where there should have been legs. His torso seemed fine, though apparently his clothes had disappeared, and his fingers seemed to be webbed. A strangled scream escaped his lips.



Sevy had been making his way upstairs behind the German man, looking for Leo and Kit. A strange sensation had passed over him, bringing him to his knees. His body seemed to fold in on itself, and he was vaguely aware of black fur where there should have been skin. He scrambled up the stairs, and found himself slipping around on giant paws. When he opened his mouth to call out, a roar filled his ears.

A few dozen steps into the hallway, Marisol felt a wave of warmth pass over her. She shuddered. She hadn't felt like that since Terasu had tried to set fire to the city. Or, set the city even more on fire, really. Blinking, she came to the uncomfortable realization that she couldn't feel one of her hands. Instead, it had been replaced by something heavy. Looking down, she found that her ax had melded into her arm, the skin giving way to metal at around her elbow. It didn't hurt, but the weight caused her to lean to one side.

She couldn't decide if that was awesome or scary.

"Marisol?" said Arlais. Marisol instinctively turned around and looked down. Then up. Then up. Then even more up. Arlais's legs had extended into thin stilts, and the otter herself had placed her hands against the ceiling. "I'm a little uncomfortable about this." She sounded terrified, her voice jumping up octaves.

Okay, that wasn't awesome. Marisol stared up for a few seconds, gaping. Then an idea came to her; she readied her ax, aiming for one of Arlais's legs.

That leg swung out and hit Marisol on the chin, sending her flying back onto the floor. "Really?" Arlais said, desperately clinging onto the ceiling to try and keep herself steady. "Is that really a good idea?"

Marisol pulled herself up with her regular hand and rubbed her bruised chin with her axhand, taking care not to cut off anything important. "No," she grumbled, looking away.

Arlais took a shaky breath. "We might need to go back to the others," she said, "Because this" - she raised a leg - "is beyond me."

He continued to stare at the information in front of him, vaguely aware of the screaming and roaring. The TUD kept growing increasingly farther away from zero as time passed, something that had never once happened in his entire life. He had seen it before. Ghosts always had negative numbers for the TUD, but he wasn't a ghost. He couldn't be.

But there was his STATUS, and it made it clear that he had died. His TUD was small enough for him to comprehend - less than a minute had passed. Which would put it right around the time he felt that strange warmth. Had it killed the others in the room, too?

He looked over at them.

Kit looked normal. The German man who had must have entered the room a short time ago did, too. And then there was Leo, who - and this made him give a startled gasp followed by an obligatory moan - was apparently now a mermaid? He blinked and rubbed his eyes, which was how he knew he was supposed to respond to something like this. He pulled up their information, making sure not to look at their TUD and only at their STATUS.

All of them were the same.


So he was the only one who had died?

He hesitantly got to his feet, another moan leaving his lips as he did so. He really wasn't liking that. He wasn't liking any of this, and he hoped he could figure out what had happened. His TUD continued to tick away as he approached them; it was only when he was standing right next to Leo that he realized he should probably swipe it away so he could get a good look at the others.

Leo gasped for air. He struggled, and eventually was able to flip himself over onto his stomach and drag himself with his arms. Glancing up, he saw that Griffith was standing in front of him. He registered that there was something wrong with him, but didn't try to place it- his need to breathe was too strong.

Kit finally noticed Leo struggling with a tail. He was making some strange squealing noises. She composed herself and rushed over, kneeling beside him and trying to figure out what was wrong.

"Leo! Leo, can you talk to me? What do you need?" He didn't seem to hear her at first- she clutched his shoulders and helped support him.

"W... wa- water." Leo gasped, understanding a primeal part of himself.

Kit examined Leo- he was still making some sort of high-pitched kreening sound. Finally, it hit her that he was trying to talk. If she concentrated, she thought she could hear words mingled in with the shrieks. Water. Of course- she understood what Leo was trying to say around the same time she noticed the gills on his neck opening and closing.

"G- Griffith!" She turned to the man, trying to ignore his currently gruesome appearance, "I need help moving him- we have to bring him to a tub, or- or something."

He let out a moan before he could come up with an actual reply to the comment, something he was sure only terrified her even more than he had after the change had first occurred - he had seen the way she looked at him out of the corner of his eyes, even if his attention had been focused on his information.

"Okay," he said. Cue another moan, this one softer than before. "I think I might have seen one in a room I found before you and your friends arrived."

He leaned down and awkwardly grabbed onto his tail. He typically didn't have a problem with lifting heavy things, but it was suddenly quite difficult to lift Leo's tail. There was a loud snapping sound. And then, seconds later, his arm fell out of his sleeve.

And it moved when he thought about it. He wasn't sure if he should feel relieved or horrified at the sight of his arm moving back towards him. He stared at the decaying flesh on the moving arm, covering his surprisingly sensitive nose with his free arm as the strong smell of decay bombarded him.

And it was then that he got it.

He touched his face with his remaining arm.

"I'm a zombie?" he whispered, a moan following as confirmation a moment later.

But how? How could he have possibly died, and how could he have possibly become a zombie when he didn't even have it to begin with?

Suddenly remembering that he wasn't alone, he frantically looked over at the occupants of the room. Behind him, his arm hurried off to a flower vase that had been on the table he was reading at only minutes before - he had seen some water in it.

"I'm not normally like this!" he hurriedly informed them. His arm grabbed onto the vase and brought it next to Leo. Leaning down, he removed the flowers and poured the water onto Leo's gills. It would be good enough until they could get him somewhere with more water. "I promise I'm not a monster..." He moaned again, a quiet, pitiful sound.

Leo gasped and coughed as the water was poured over his gills. It tasted vaguely planty, but seemed to do the trick. Not as panicked as before, he blinked up at Griffith.

"T- thanks."

Kit watched the zombie, now that she wasn't frantic over Leo. She turned away to hide her grimace at the way his arm scuttled around.

"I know- none of us are monsters. I- I don't know what's going on, I can't sen-" she bit her tongue, on the verge of saying that she couldn't sense anything.

She was most likely human- she would have to test her theory later. If she was, the only tell-tale sign would be her unnaturally bright eyes dimming.

She preoccupied herself with trying to find a way to move Leo. Suddenly, she remembered that Sevy was still downstairs. She stood and glanced toward the doorway, only to stop in her tracks. One of the men downstairs, the one with the gun, was standing in the doorway.



Sevy continued to struggle with his paws, trying to find some sort of grip to get up the stairs with. Finally, he steadied himself and leaped, clearing the remaining steps and sliding on the slippery floor of the landing. Now to find Kit and Leo.

Finding the others, fortunately enough, happened to be fairly easy - Arlais and Marisol just had to follow the screaming.

"D'ya really think they'll help?" Marisol said. She swung her axhand around, enjoying the whooshing sound it made as it passed through the air.

"It's the best option we have," Arlais called down. Thanks to her legs, she took a step every time Marisol took ten or twenty, which vaguely annoyed Marisol. "Either they know what the problem is, and they can help us fix it, or they don't know what the problem is, but then we won't be alone."

They stopped at around the same time, Arlais much further back than Marisol. Which made sense; Arlais's sense of smell had always been better. And rotten flesh wasn't exactly hard to recognize.

"Or," Marisol said, turning around before she could walk past an open door. "Maybe they do know, but they ain't helping us. Let's get out of here." She tried to restrain herself, but her gritted teeth and faster pace didn't make her seem any calmer.

Arlais nodded and tried to turn, but one of her legs swept out in a wide arc. Before either of them could react, Arlais lost her balance and plummeted to the floor. Were it not for her moving her hands behind her head, she would've had something much worse than a bruise. Or so Marisol assumed from the way Arlais clutched the back of her head and groaned.

"F*** this," Marisol said, running up to Arlais and reaching out a hand. Arlais, who for once completely agreed with Marisol, let the latter pull her up. At least, pull her arms and chest up; her long legs extended far into the hallway, stubbornly unwilling to move. She doubted she could get on her feet again.

His detached arm returned the flowers to their vase and put the vase back on the table - a task that was slightly difficult, given that it had to get back on there in the first place. But he had dealt with similar things before, so all he did was have it jump onto on of the chairs and then onto the table.

In the meantime, he turned to the man he still didn't know the name of. "Could you help her move him?" he questioned, pointing down at Leo with his attached hand. The other one quickly hurried back to his side, and he wasted no time in picking it up. Just as he was about to contemplate other ways to carry Leo, he heard a loud crash from out in the hallway.

He knew that whoever was out there would be scared, but he couldn't just leave them when they might be able to help. He moved past the man and out into the hallway, his arm in his hand.

And then he saw the two people from before, the ones who had rushed away when he had opened the door. Only they looked different. One had stilts for legs, and the other had an ax for an arm. He tentatively raised his hand to wave at them in greeting, only to remember mid-wave that he was still holding his detached arm.

"Hi," he said, wishing he was anywhere but here. "I know this looks bad but I'm not usually like this! I think-I think it was a magic spell that might have changed me?"

Marisol snorted. "Some magic, then," she said, waving her axhand around. "See? I could kill someone with this!" As if to prove her point, the axhand embedded itself in the doorframe. She grabbed the offending arm with her other one, tugging until the axhand freed itself, which sent wooden splinters flying everywhere.

"Please don't," Arlais said, propping herself up with her hands and rolling her eyes.

For once, Marisol hesitated. It was more like Arlais to be scared and antsy. Her being sarcastic meant she was tired. She was overwhelmed. That, or she was amused by the man waving his detached arm, but that wasn't too likely.

"Can ya undo this?" Marisol said, looking at the man pleadingly. "I don't think she can get up, and I ain't gonna carry her 'round. Not with this for arm." She gestured to the rusted ax.

"I'm just as clueless as you are," he said, ducking his head down so he wouldn't see the inevitably disappointed - or possibly terrified - look the woman would give him. "I'm sorry. I don't live here, and I don't know who does. I just thought it might be magic because it felt like it. I don't know how to fix this..."