The most ridiculous thing about living in a Christmas mansion? It wasn't the talking inflatables or the mysterious owners; it was finding a basement that smelled of gingerbread and was scary at the same time. Two hours after Mr. Garland left the mansion, we were pretty bored.
The excitement of such a task soon wore off. Taking care of a haunted house sounds much better in theory, but it gets boring if nothing happens. And what could four teenagers do in a lonely mansion? Explore. Mr. Garland hadn't put many restrictions on that, so we were going to do it anyway. He left us a list of rules to follow:
1. Don't touch anything—especially Mr. Garland's magical potions
2. Do not enter the customer's room
As we headed toward the center of the mansion, I felt a surge of strength coursing through my body, as if I'd had twenty cups of hot chocolate in a row (which I wouldn't have done, of course). I knew something bad was about to happen, since the last time I'd felt this way was when I boarded that Ryanair flight to Switzerland, or when I rented Mr. Bram's cabin.
Rex led us straight to the basement of the house. I always tried to avoid that part of any house, since every horror movie has a setting in that dark and sinister place.
"This is pretty nice for a mansion," Rex commented. "I think I could stay here all year."
"I don't know what's weirder, the walls covered in pictures of people dressed as elves... or the fact that one of them winked at me," I said, trying to tear my gaze away from the... eccentric Christmas portraits covering the walls.
"Probably it was just a reflex," suggested Ivy, although she didn't seem very convinced about that.
"Yeah, right…" said June, "and the floating lights are because there's a draft."
Rex laughed, "I love how we don't rule anything out as 'impossible' anymore since the encounter at the maze." The rest of the group visibly flinched at the memory.
"Exactly," I said, finally someone agreed with me, "that's why I don't want to go down there," I pointed to the dark basement door.
"But what if we find something useful? I mean, there might be… I don't know, maps, clues, codes, free chocolates…"
"Or killing machines," continued Ivy.
"Look," Rex pointed to a suit of armor on the way, "This one has a candy cane. I want one."
"The last thing we need is you having an edible weapon," I murmured.
We stopped at a dark-wood door with a Christmas wreath hanging at the top. June looked at the ground. "Why are there cookie crumbs all the way to the basement door?
Ivy interfered, "That's actually a good question. Who eats cookies in the basement?"
"Someone who doesn't live enough to tell the tale," I suggested.
"Bah," Rex mocked, "You're always exaggerating."
"Remember the hollow snowman who tried to eat us? That wasn't an exaggeration."
Ivy stared at the door before speaking. "Also, that door had a weird symbol on it…"
"A snowflake struck by lightning, just like the one on the Passaje card," I remember.
"Is that bad?"
"It's the seal of the labyrinth. It indicates a direct connection, or something worse." The message of Ivy wasn't encouraging at all. We stood in silence for a few seconds before I broke the silence.
"You shouldn't enter, let's get out of here"
"I believe we should open now and see what happens."
"He's going to open it anyway, right?" said June, resigned.
"No doubt," I shook my head. "We're going to regret this."
Rex smiled and grabbed the handle. "Time to find out what's behind it…"
It was a bad idea, of course. I still can't fathom what possessed Rex to think that was a good idea. He gets like that sometimes, and it's almost impossible to argue with him if he's so determined to do something. Anyway, now we were about to face whatever is on the other side.
The wheel turned, and the door opened with an icy whisper. Now, the room wasn't what I'd imagined: I was thinking about a dark room, filled to the top with high cardboard boxes, and a monster hidden, ready to jump on us as soon as we crossed the room.
What I found instead was a light room, with hallways formed by towers of bunks and wooden boxes, all with small locks and illegible labels, maybe in a forgotten language. Through the high window at the far end (yes, a window in a basement, but who was I to question it), a beam of light fell directly into a pile of chests, as if they were the treasure of a forgotten king.
"Well." Ivy said, turning in a circle, "This is like Santa's cellar, but abandoned."
"Abandoned?" Rex lifted the lid of a trunk and pulled out a miniature sled, made of silver. I had bad memories with sleds, don't ask me why. "This looks brand new."
"Or maybe stolen," June added, as she moved a box aside and found a torch with engravings.
I ran my hand along one of the walls of the crates. They were… warm "Uh… Is it normal for crates to be warm?"
"It depends," answered Rex with a smile, "Are they stockpiling chocolate or dynamite?"
Ivy raised an eyebrow. "How comforting."
June opened another trunk and took out a self-changing scarf. " This is amazing!" she screamed.
"Not as much as this," I said, pulling out a glass jar full of snowflakes floating in the air. "They don't melt!"
We went deeper and deeper, overwhelmed by the basement's cozy atmosphere. For a moment, I stopped thinking about the maze, the monsters, the troubles, and my family. We pushed through the crates and found all sorts of increasingly strange things: a compass that turned in all directions, a moving map of the state of Illinois, and much more.
While my friends continued opening crates, I approached the back of the basement. There, contrasting with the light wood and the golden sunlight, stood what could only be described as a portal. It had a rectangular structure that extended from the floor to almost touch the ceiling. It was made of smooth stone, and there were letters on top. When I read it, I stopped dead in my tracks and knew we were in trouble: Holiday Collection Department – Labyrinth Division.
"Okay…" Ivy muttered, "Someone noticed we've been here for 10 minutes and haven't seen a single creature?"
"Maybe we'll get a break from that soon…"
"Maybe not…" I whispered. The portal glowed, and a deep metallic sound echoed among the crates. Then, from between two towering chests, and directly from the portal, emerged a blue glow and a mechanical voice: "IDENTIFY yourselves!"
"Uh… tourists"
"We're looking for Garland Klaus, official debtor for 2,000 peppermint candies, 500 candy canes, and a 40-foot tree," recited the other, taking out a holographic tablet.
"They tax... candy?" June whispered.
"Pay up or we'll seize the property!" the first one added.
"Garland's gone," Ivy said calmly, or as calmly as possible. "He's gone on a trip."
The robots looked at each other and then at us. "I suppose that you're their helpers. So you answer for him."
"Answer how?" I asked.
The robot raised a cannon that, instead of projectiles, fired a stream of glowing red ribbons that tangled around my arm.
"Escape plan NOW!" I yelled, trying to wriggle free.
Rex pushed a shelf to block the way, but one of the robots sliced it in half with a giant candy sword. June, who had found a bag of fake snowballs, started throwing them at him. To my surprise, they exploded like green paint bombs. It doesn't slow down the robots, but at least we've bought ourselves some time.
"To the stairs!" Ivy shouted.
But it was very difficult to find an escape ladder in a room full of trunks and wooden shelves, and even more so if you're being chased by a robot and a crazed man.
We climbed a hanging ladder at full speed, while the robots yelled at us: "Fleeting subject detected."
A door peeped out from behind a shelf, and we ran toward it. We slammed the wooden door shut, and I slumped against it, breathing heavily. "I definitely... hate tax collection."
"Okay... they're coming. Emergency plan, ready?"
"Emergency plan? We don't even have a normal plan!"
"Then we improvise. As usual." Rex reminded me.
"I have an idea. Help me with those boxes."
In seconds, we stacked several large trunks blocking the center aisle. Ivy tied a scarf to the stack and looped it behind a column. Hopefully, that would stop them for a while. Looking back, that was definitely a terrible plan.
Trap one: 'Crate avalanche'
The intruders turned the corner, the robot's red eyes glowing. The other was berating the robot, speaking with a human voice: "Use one of your tricks! Can't you see where they are?"
As they passed through the passageway, Ivy pulled the rope, and the boxes fell on top of them, burying them in piles of cardboard and snow. It wasn't long before they were freed. The robot retriever poked its metal arm out from between the mountain of toys and boxes.
"We have to move, now!" What followed was a long chase through the shelves and chests. We tried throwing books, tables, and chairs at them, but it had no effect, only making them angrier and angrier.
We stopped at the end of a shelf; the exit door was a few meters ahead.
"We have to go out this door!" I said.
"Yes, but how do we do it?" Rex asked.
"They're about to catch us," Ivy warned. "They'll be right in front of us in a few seconds."
I looked at my companions. "Do you have anything left?" Most of them had empty hands; we were running out of options.
June pulled a jar from her pocket. "I have this."
It was a jar with chocolate chip cookies inside. It looked like an ordinary cookie, but what gave it away was the faint golden glow and the bluish particles that seemed to float above it.
Rex looked at him incredulously. "And it didn't occur to you to tell us?"
"I took it out of a chest when we were upstairs. I didn't think it was necessary."
Metallic footsteps grew closer, mixed with the sound of iron boots on wood. I wondered what shady business Mr. Garland had done to attract so much negative attention, and how he dealt with it every month. Now I saw why he'd called us to guard his mansion instead of doing it himself.
"Come on, we don't have all day! The boss wants his gold before lunch," the human soldier growled.
"Priority: locate the owner. Proceed with collection."
I looked at Rex. "Okay, Rex... They're close. Do you have the cookie?"
Rex held up a huge chocolate chip cookie. "Ready and armed."
"Armed?" Ivy muttered.
"You'll see," June said.
Rex, with the precision of a Christmas sniper, threw the cookie into the middle of the aisle. There was a tense silence as the robot stopped, apparently to scan the cookie.
"Object detected: high sugar content… possible alternative payment," its mechanical voice rattled the shelf they were leaning against.
The soldier frowned. "Are you kidding?"
"Protocols accept goods with high nutritional value in baked goods."
"This is going to be good," I smiled.
The robot bends down to pick up the cookie, but as soon as it lifts it, a hidden mechanism inside activates. "BOOM!" A cloud of flour and confetti explodes in its face, blinding its sensors.
"Visual error… visual error…"
The soldier began coughing uncontrollably, flour seeping into his plastic helmet. "Ugh! Flour got in my mouth!"
The man stood up, his suit covered in confetti and flour. We couldn't see his face, but judging by his posture, he seemed furious. This wasn't good, not at all. He muttered about useless robots and shameless thieves, then glared at us. I estimated the distance between me and the door—it was only 5 meters.
"Enough games," the man shouted. "If you don't pay, you die here!"
The man dropped his carbine and drew an antique pistol. The robot, still with confetti stuck to its sensors, extended an arm that transformed into a hard candy cannon.