44. The Hidden Staircase
Chapter forty-four
The Hidden Staircase
Kazimir
I burst out of M’s apartment with a storm of emotions churning within my body.
The next level is the answer. That is where the original is.
I had already spent a long enough time in my mouse’s mind, so much time that my head filled with this dizzying fog of uncertainty.
I had to go soon.
Just check upstairs. . .and then leave.
I moved so fast my feet barely touched the ground.
My heart pounded in my chest with this urgency—this desperate need to climb and discover whatever awaited me above.
Behind me, Pavel’s footsteps sounded. “We must go after this.”
“We will.”
M’s voice rose. “Kazimir, wait! We must take our time and theorize the possibilities, not just go there.”
“I am sorry, M.” I shook my head and did not break my stride. “I do not have the time for that.”
Lunita’s voice cut through the tension. “There are no stairs, nasty lion!”
“I will show you.” I glanced over my shoulder and spotted the little girl.
She was in the far back, moving those little legs and clutching her stuffed lion close to her small body.
She believes me. I know it.
Solitary conviction anchored me.
Forward was the only direction I could move.
Once I approached the stairs, I stopped in front of them. “Here we go.”
Pavel huffed and stopped next to me.
Soon M, Lunita, and the little girl arrived.
I pointed at the steps. “What do you all see?”
M squinted his eyes. “I see a wall.”
The little girl nodded.
Lunita leaned her head down to her shoulder and truly peered. “There are no steps.”
I turned to Pavel. “What do you see, cousin?”
He frowned. “A staircase.”
“My God.” M stepped forward with his gaze fixed on the stairs—or the wall, as he perceived it. “This could be a psychological barrier.”
M turned our way. “Our brain might be shielding us from these stairs, from what lies above, because we’re not ready to confront it.”
Pavel’s expression turned grim. “If that is the case, then maybe you should not push this.”
“I am going up there.”
“Cousin, if the stairs are hidden from their sight, maybe there is a reason. It could mean they are not meant to deal with whatever is up there—yet.”
The hallway was thick with unsaid thoughts. I felt their caution, their fear, even, but it clashed so fiercely with the fire inside me.
This is it. This is the fucking answer.
“But what if,” I put my view back on the stairs. “What if confronting this is exactly what you all need? What if your healing lies beyond this barrier?”
I gestured towards the staircase. “What if this is not about being ready but about facing your fears, challenging your limitations?”
M rubbed his beard. “Kazimir, I understand your urgency, your need for resolution. But diving headfirst into the unknown without understanding the consequences—”
I cut him off, “I am in all of your minds right now. We have already dived head-first into the unknown.”
Silent, Lunita went up to the stairs and reached her hand out.
M and the little girl gasped.
I quirked my brows. “What?”
Lunita snapped her hand back to her side. “My fingers went through the wall.”
“Because there is no wall.” I pursed my lips.
“Hmmm.” M nervously tucked some of his dreadlocks behind his ear. “Our journey has never been about staying in the comfort zone. It has been about growth, about pushing beyond what we believe is possible.”
Pavel looked between M and me, the conflict evident in his eyes. “But there is a difference between growth and recklessness. Kazimir, how do you know this is not the latter?”
“Sometimes. . .” I sighed. “You have to step into the unknown to find what you are looking for.”
The air buzzed with this electric sensation.
I turned back to face the staircase.
Those steps loomed before me, a seemingly endless corkscrew spinning upward into the unknown.
“If my mouse wants to heal, then I must go up these stairs. I must find out what lies beyond. And I must face whatever it is, ready or not.”
The silence that followed was a heavy, contemplative one as if each of them were wrestling their own demons, their own fears.
But my decision was made.
I was going to climb those stairs, whether they were ready to deal with it or not.
I turned back to my mouse’s alters. My eyes scanned the faces of each person in the hallway, taking in their varied expressions. Concern furrowed brows, fear widened eyes, and curiosity sparked inquisitive glances.
But it was the little girl, huddled in the shadows near me with her stuffed lion tightly held to her chest, who caught my attention most. She stood there quietly, observing the intense debate unfolding before her, a small innocent bystander in a sea of heated emotions.
But hold on. . .she looks young, but she is not actually young. She is older than the alters in this hallway.
I gave her a sad smile. “What do you think?”
She darted her gaze from the stairs, or wall, to me, then back to the stairs again. She seemed to have a faraway look in her eyes as if she were seeing herself climb them in her mind’s eye.
Still, I sensed the fear radiating from her small frame but also something else.
Determination?
Hope?
“I. . .I think,” she stammered, the words breaking through her trembling lips, “I think you should go.”
M let out a heavy sigh, looked down at the little girl, and then his eyes met mine.
For some reason, Pavel’s face softened as he glanced at the little girl.
To push the point further, I whispered to him, “Think of Paolo.”
Pavel studied the little girl some more. “We go upstairs, see what is there, and then we leave.”
“Yes.”
“You said yes before and ignored everything.”
“We leave once we see what is up there, but we must know. Truly know, so I can tell my mouse.”
M rubbed his beard some more. “Then, when she returns to us, we will show her the wall. . .I mean. . .the stairs.”
Lunita reached her hands toward the stairs again.
M gasped. “Ungodly. Your fingers just. . .go through it.”
Lunita took a step forward, getting her feet close to the stairs.
The little girl edged back. “Some of Lunita’s body is going inside of the wall.”
Lunita dropped her hand and inched back. “I’m going with you, nasty lion. I can protect you.”
I smirked. “Can you now?”
“I’m the fighter.” Lunita fisted her hands. “Everyone knows that.”
I nodded. “Then, let us go. I have already been here long enough.”
“That is an understatement.” Pavel moved ahead of us, taking the first few steps with caution, then swiftly mounted the rest of the staircase.
M gasped. “The dead cousin disappeared.”
Pavel stood on the fourth step and looked over his shoulder. “Again, my name is Pavel.”
M squinted. “I can hear him, but not see him.”
Lunita’s bottom lip quivered. “What if I get stuck there and can’t come out?”
I shook my head. “I will make sure you get out.”
“Why would you do that?”
“Because you are mine and I love you.”
She blushed. “Nasty lion.”
“Come on.” I headed forward.
She remained with me, although visibly trembling.
M called after us, “I can’t see either of you, but please. . .be very careful.”
The world around us folded into an oppressive silence, punctuated only by the sound of our footsteps on the stairs. The air grew denser too, heavier, as if infused with the weight of forgotten memories and unspoken fears.
Lunita followed closely behind me with her gaze up on Pavel as he remained several steps ahead of us.
I whispered, “Are you okay?”
“No.”
“Then, stay close to me.”
She snapped her view to me.
“What?”
She shook her head.
I faced forward and continued.
The staircase twisted upwards, defying the laws of architecture and reason. It spiraled up like the double helix of a DNA strand.
With each step, the space around us became darker, swallowing the weak dimming light. And this was no ordinary darkness; it was an entity in and of itself, thick with the stench of dread and decay.
A darkness that was alive.
Breathing.
Whispering secrets meant to remain unheard.
A little girl cried in the darkness.
Lunita’s footsteps faltered.
Pavel and I stopped.
The little girl cried out again.
My heart boomed in my ears. “Did you hear that?”
Pavel nodded. “But. . .it didn’t come from one place. It is as if the sound just lives here on the stairwell.”
“Yes.” I shivered. “That was what I was thinking too.”
Lunita got to my side, forcing me to get closer to the wall. “I’m scared.”
“You can go back.”
“No.”
“Then, continue to remain close to me.”
“You can’t protect me here.”
“I can try.”
As we climbed higher, Lunita’s breathing became labored. And I wasn’t sure why.
Was fear filling her lungs?
Or was it a clear sign that the oppressive atmosphere in the staircase was weighing heavily on her as well?
Either way, we pressed on.
The more we rose, the more the stairs creaked, and the walls felt closer and the air became staler, and the sense of foreboding grew.
A little girl screamed, “Stop! Please!”
We all froze.
And then a man’s voice whispered in the darkness, “Shh. Don’t make any noise now. Be a good girl.”
Terror quaked within me.
I glanced over my shoulder “Did you hear that?”
Lunita went down one step.
I stared at her. “You did hear that.”
Lunita’s eyes watered. “T-that’s his voice.”
“You do not have to come up.”
She looked up toward the floor that was barely in view. “I know now. . .where we are going.”
“Where?”
“To his apartment.” Tears left her eyes. “Max lived above us.”
The revelation hit me like a physical blow, sending a chill down my spine. Sorrow rocked me too, but somehow I remained standing.
Of course. None of the alters would be willing to deal with the very thing that shattered them.
Surely, their brain had tried to bury that sicko’s apartment deep within the recesses of their mind.
“W-we don’t have to go up there.” Lunita wiped the tears away with the back of her hands. “The original isn’t there.”
Pavel spoke behind me, “Actually. . .”
I turned to him.
Pavel let out a long breath. “That is probably the exact place where the original is.”
I swallowed.
“Maybe even. . .” Pavel frowned. “Maybe the original never left his apartment in her mind. For her, this is where life ended. . .where she gave up.”
“No.” Lunita took another step down. “That’s too sad. I killed him for us . Tell her to get out of that bad man’s place.”
I studied Lunita.
Her body trembled and shook.
“No.” She wrapped those shaking arms tightly around herself as if trying to hold herself together. “No. No. I don’t want her to be there. All these years?”
Her face was contorted in anguish. More tears streamed down her cheeks. “Tell her to leave. . .”
“Lunita.” I kept my voice low.
“Tell her to go, nasty lion!”
“I want you to stay right there. Alright?”
And then Lunita began to sob. “Tell her to go. P-please.”
My heart broke so hard that I touched my own chest. “If I see her in the apartment, I will tell her.”
Sobbing more, she took another step down.
“I promise.” I turned around and Pavel appeared as if he was close to crying too. “What, cousin? Are you going to tell me to hurry? Or that it is time to go? Or—”
“No.” Pavel’s face shifted to a neutral expression. “We need to find the original. No matter how long it takes. No matter if. . .we get stuck in here.”
I widened my eyes. “Alright. Then, let us go.”