I know, I've just lost most inspiration for this, I guess.
Chapter 19: The Gargoyles Have Ears
Peach closed the door behind her, a small click resonating throughout the library. Her observant eyes scanned the walls of the intimidating place, finding that the same artistic hand had carved even more figures into this room than in the foyer. There were boos carved of marble that swirled up from the large glowing torches, which hung upon the walls. Upon the boos' faces were looks of cruelty, and deceit, which reminded the princess of her own Booregard. There were also statures of shadow sirens, full of lust and mystery. They rose from the thick wooden floors like snakes, spiraling into a beautiful figure of a woman. Between each bookshelf a stone gargoyle stood, with eyes as blank as night and a mouth curled into an angry cry. Their silent guard put Peach into an uneasy hunch as she circled the lonely library in search of a friend.
The ceiling was painted with the same mural as the foyers', with was a dark blue, swirled with a mixture of mellow colors. Spots of light stood out in the ceiling as painted stars, the work of impressionism in their color making a strange impact on the open-minded princess. As she continued to walk along, gazing into the ceiling, her thigh bumped a hard slab of something. She looked down at a wooden table, occupied by a transparent old man with a beard of silver and two eyes of starlight. She stood puzzled as she hadn't seen him there before. He was bent over a load of opened books, all equally thick and heavy, looking over each page with a surprising speed. As he scratched his beard he looked up at her, the smell of dust and wet pages present in his air.
"Uh..." Peach cracked as she gave a violent hum through her dry throat to clear it.
"Why, you showed up after all," said the low-pitched reed instrument. His easy personality and slow way of speaking calmed Peach, and she sat down at his table with a clear mind.
"I'm sorry I'm late," Peach spoke, "I ran into a bit of a...obstacle."
"Yes, I am so very sorry." Peach swallowed and was about to question his apology when she eyed his old lips opening to hear him say, "In my terribly old, and quite forgetful age, I seemed to have misplaced the deed in my mind, when it was the night of our meeting, to tell you the ways that this house works at night." Peach nodded and sat patiently, though couldn't help but look over her shoulder at the eerie ring that seemed to echo across the library's walls. As she looked right into the eyes of a grinning gargoyle, she quickly turned back around to listen to her guardian, chills residing in her spine. The ghost continued, "You see, as the moon rises here at this horrible property which belongs to the one who presides in the uppermost floor, things begin to change as all things do when night comes. The spirits take rest from their days of doing activities of which I am oblivious to, and the house, here, grows dim. The portrait ghosts are then, only, allowed to leave their frames at such hour, where we may roam the halls of our entrapment. It is the time when we stretch out of the dank, heavy oils of our easels, and curse the fate which we were born in to. Never may we see the true light of the moon, or the silent twinkle of the stars above, or feel the soft night breeze rush through our forever transparent bodies."
"Why, that's horrible," Peach whispered.
"We are bound to our own dust until time ends, here in the horrid house of the one whose broken heart still beats for lust. But night is not only the time for freedom, but for escape. Many times there have been said reports of servants leaving their beds empty to make an endeavor of running away. Most of the poor souls have gotten lost in the many corridors of this mansion, though I'm not sure what happened to the others, for I am not very much around when news is spoken. However, the point I am bringing myself to is that Booregard felt it in his own responsibility to put a stop to this. Being a ghost of strange magic ability, and questionable witch crafting skills, he managed to convert nine ferocious chain chomps, escorted from the Dry Dry Deserts, into a group of tamed, intellectual riddling beasts. I am very sorry, sweet girl, for I must have caused you a deep impact of fear upon your poor soul by not preparing you for such encounter."
"Oh, it's quite alright," said Peach quietly, directing her eyes from the floor to the ghost. "I've always claimed that I held a knack for riddles, and it's true."
"Well, I'm glad to hear such," said the ghost with his dust-clearing laugh. "And now that I have told you of the information I should have run by you on our first meeting, I will patch up another mistake of mine. Being lost of much, or any, social contact for a great amount of years, I am sorry to say that I have forgotten to show myself to you not only as a portrait ghost, but as a gentleman." He reached out his arm to Peach, extending his long, spidery hands. Peach gazed at it for a moment, and then reached out her own and shook it in his. "My name is Professor Alfred Inkblot, at your service, my dear. And you?"
"Hello, Professor. My name is Peach Toadstool. It's a pleasure to meet you."
"And the same to you," he huffed, withdrawing his old hand. "And now that I have exhausted my apologies to you, my dear Peach, I will proceed unto proper business."
Peach nodded as she straightened her posture, looking eagerly into the old books before her, not taking it a word of what was on the page and yet feeling excited of what it said. Her fingers folded together and she placed her hands politely in her lap, licking her tired lips.
"I have been doing research in this library for more moon laps than I can count," Professor Inkblot stated. "I have found the most interesting pieces of information between some of these covers than anyone may come to understand. The history of these walls, and the tricks of the ghouls that room within them. I know of basically all of the secret passageways that this place has to offer, and all of the hidden rooms, ideal treasures, and unknown exits. If I may humbly say so; I know more of this Manor than its owner does!" The whole time he spoke with a very secretive voice, hushed underneath the thick anxiety residing in the air. The princess felt almost frightened at his soft tone, and wished that he would speak more openly. The professor continued, "Though this is not the point. What I have learned that may sincerely benefit you, my dear, is how to get out." Peach's heart skipped a beat.
"Oh!" she exclaimed breathily, true excitement wielding her voice, "You have no idea how long I've wanted to hear this!"
"Shhhhhhh..." Inkblot hushed as he brought a long finger to his mustache. He looked over Peach's shoulder, eyeing the gargoyle. Peach's heart was still beating with excitement, but now fear kept it going. He leaned in closer to her and said, "The gargoyles have ears." Peach pursed her lips as she swallowed a pack of butterflies into her stomach.
"Hm?" she questioned.
"These stone gargoyles are spies to Booregard," Professor Inkblot hummed. "They're awoken by sound, and are nasty things when in motion."
"Did.... Did it hear me?" Peach whispered nervously.
"No, dear Peach, it didn't, and I am sorry for allowing myself to forget my duty of warning you. Again, I feel ashamed of my forgetful ways." Peach did away with his shame, and he continued, "So, as I have said, I have figured the way for any person imprisoned in this place to let himself, or herself, free. It is really quite basic, actually. The boo's prison is cast under many strange, dark spells, and is often very hard to tamper with. Trying to undo the spells over this horrid place would be more than extremely tricky, and it has overall been defined as a bad idea (or at least according to my book) and should not be attempted. However, the easier way to free oneself of this prison would be to simply do away with its inheritor. In this case, my poor Peach, the one way that you can unlock the gates of this bird cage and set yourself free is to destroy the horrible soul that forever has haunted this mansion."
"You mean Booregard?"
"I speak of the very one."
"...You are asking me to kill Booregard?" Peach asked with a gaping mouth, suddenly feeling unsure of her capability of setting herself free.
"You say kill with a thought of knives and blood, am I correct?" asked the ghostly professor. Peach nodded, even though such violent thoughts actually had not taken place in her mind.
"Well please, think not of it, for no such act using said tools will ever come to play, especially not with a ghost. No, the witty spirit living in this haunted mansion is very keen in his magic, as you may or may not have noticed. He has cast himself under more than enough spells, trying to make himself immortal to any form of murder. Though he has succeeded in none of his many trials, the determined boo did find a way. By drinking the saliva of a Shark Plant, the lonely spirit has preserved himself against all enemy touch, so that he may not be killed."
"Well then what use is it to tell me that his death is my key?" asked Peach, her amiable, light voice contrasting to Professor Inkblot's oboe.
"My explanation was not yet finished, my young listener, for I was to say that there is a loop hole in this extraordinary success for a certain upstairs spirit. While he had granted himself with immortality, he was still unsure of whether or not this was true happiness. As an escape to this plan, he found of a way to concoct a potion that would cancel the effects of the saliva, and actually proceed to kill him. It was a potion of only three ingredients, yet powerful enough to overrun the first."
"So, what you're saying is that I need to find this potion, and feed it to Booregard! Then I'll be free from this horrible place!" Peach's face lightened up a bit, but she quickly quieted down a she gave a nervous look to the gargoyle over her shoulder.
"Not exactly," Inkblot said as Peach looked back, "for this potion was never actually made. It was thought out, and planned, but never made. You see, this is the reason I asked you here tonight." The old professor opened up one of the side books to a page that was marked by a black crow's feather. His bony finger scanned across the dusty page, and he read aloud, "The stream of my establishment, the liquid once used, and the tears of my heart." Peach felt something within her gentle heart tear at these words. There was some sort of feeling that was so very final about them, as though they were part of the script of Booregard's last bold statements. "These three things," said Inkblot, "are the ingredients for the Manor master's potion of death."
"So.... What.... What you're saying is..."
"Yes, dear Peach," said the slow professor. "You are going to need to collect all of these things, and bring them back to me."
Peach gave him a troubled look as she tried her hardest not to look down. Her meek body stood high from the ground atop one of the tallest bookcases in the library. Her trembling hands grasped the curvy hips of a stone shadow siren, whose curly locks of tossable hair swam about her body of lust. Professor Inkblot faced a portrait that hung on the wall at the same height as Peach, above the very bookcase of which she was now perched. The portrait contained a very fat ghost woman, who wore a violet dress and had black and curly hair all tied into a bun. Her eyebrows were very slick and high as though she was annoyed.
"Excuse me, Miss Natalie Noteprick," said Professor Inkblot politely. "Would you mind speaking for a moment?"
The green, emerald eyes of the portrait ghost, Natalie, stirred, and she gave a very annoyed glance to Inkblot.
"Alfred!" she said in a very melodious, full voice that sounded as though in belonged in an opera. "What do you want with me now?"
"Please, quiet yourself Natalie," said Alfred, "I don't want the gargoyles to stir!"
"Oh, and you assume that I do?" said the vexed spirit. "I say! How absurd is it that they put such a beautifully singing ghost portrait in a library? It's ridiculous, Alfred, ridiculous!"
"Well, my dear, be grateful that you're not in a broom closet," Professor Inkblot hummed. "But that is besides the point. I would very much like entrance into the pipeline, please."
"The pipeline?" Natalie repeated, not looking any calmer. "Why would you want to go into those filthy sewers? - It's dirty in there!"
"Again, I must ask you to keep your voice down," said Professor Inkblot as he continued to try and woo the disgruntled Natalie Noteprick. Peach noticed, as she stared into the disturbingly keen eyes of a nearby gargoyle, that both of its eyes had sparked red for a moment. When they had, it had sent a shiver through her whole body, and she regretted ever looking at its disgruntled mouth and disfigured, sharp teeth. Its shoulders were hunched and its great, muscular arms were posted to the floor before it, the claws of its hands too crowded to be folded comfortably. Its hind legs were hunched and looked ready to pounce, with its confined wings prepared to open wide, ready to engulf its prey. Peach was entranced by the horribly demonic figure, and was too terrified to put her eyes away from it.
"...well, thank you, Miss Noteprick. Come now, Peach," Inkblot said. "It is time!"
Princess Peach turned away from her horrible viewing to heed her ghostly friend.
"Yes, what is it?" she asked, eyeing the fat lady with curiosity.
"Miss Noteprick, here, has agreed to open herself up to the pipeline of Licknot Manor. It is now that you must travel down through the pipes, and retrieve the sewage from the main waterway. After that, you will come back here and I'll escort you back to your room. You'll be done for the night."
Peach felt very nervous as she watched Natalie hover out from her portrait so that it was left with only a scenery of fresh violets growing upon a garden arch.
"And... you're sure that this has to be done now?" asked Peach nervously, feeling very reluctant to go anywhere else but back to her room.
"Oh, yes," Alfred replied. "I am sorry, dear Peach, but there is only one time to do this, and that is now. After tonight, there will be no more visiting the library at late hours for you. Now come, and try to be brave, my dear."
Peach stepped forward as Natalie took hold of her picture frame and swung it open carelessly, revealing a secret entrance that was walled with pipes, and dripping with random spots of water. Peach felt it in her best interest to try and debate against going inside.
"Now, Peach, I will give to you this small container." Professor Inkblot lowered himself down a bit to hand the princess a clear glass bottle, no larger than her thumb. She took it in her gentle fingers, and examined it while turning it about. "With this I ask you to cradle the sewage that you find when you reach the mainstream. Once you have a full bottle of the gurgling mixture, you rush right back here."
Peach looked into his eyes, wondered at their star-like shine. She gathered all the courage that she could, and nodded, finding it suddenly very hard to swallow.
"And once I have this," she said, "I'll be one step closer to finding all three indgredients?"
"You'll be a third of the way there," Inkblot confirmed.
".....Alright, then," Peach said as she slowly stepped inside the secret entrance, being careful as her bare feet hit the cold, metallic ground within. She turned back to look at her portrait ghost guardian. His sorrowful eyes gazed into hers and he nodded slowly.
"Good luck," he said with a small wave.
"...Thanks," Peach said quietly. With a lazy hand Natalie swung her portrait shut with a small thud, and Peach was now locked within the pipes of Licknot Manor. She looked down the long, pipe-built tunnel, noticing how it was lighted up only my meek light bulbs, which hung loosely on strings from a wide pipe that vertically ran throughout the long tunnel. The air was damp, and the sounds were nothing but echoes. Taking in a deep breath, Peach said to herself, "...I'm definitely going to need it..."
