Twenty Rooms — Room 2: The Gallery
Chapter 2 of the Twenty Rooms Escape Story
Twenty Rooms — The Gallery
Room 2–00:20
A long corridor looms before me. In the dim light the shadow of several door handles are before me. Where am I? Who am I? Can I escape?
The sense of elation at my first success deflates as I examine the hallway. Three doors on the right. All locked. I flip the light switch at the far end of the corridor. Two crystal chandeliers come to light and illuminate dark wood wainscoting and burgundy walls. I tried the door at the far end of the hall. Also locked. Three more doors on the other side as I walked back towards the blue room. Finally, I wiggle the last nob. Nothing.
Eight doors. Nine if I count the one to the blue room. Each handle is painted a different color. Above the wainscoting, a series of paintings fills the space. On closer examination, they are mostly portraits or historical scenes.
The Mayflower, Washington crossing the Delaware, Abraham Lincoln, a wagon train, The New York City skyline, the burning of the capital, Captain B. L. Grant. Wait. A pain pierced my brain as I looked at Captain Grant’s portrait. Young, though looking like she were about to bend from the weight of the metals on her chest, her hair, the color of a summer sunset, was pulled tight up in a bun. I glance down at the nameplate to see the date. Instead of the engraved plaques all the other portraits have there is a six digit combination lock.
00:25
I back up and sink into an upholstered bench, and contemplate the portrait. How do I know her? I decide to rest my ankle a moment before continuing. Ouch! Something pricks me from inside a pillow. I pick it up, and unzip the cover. Clouds of stuffing float to the floor as I root inside. An envelope falls into my hand. Surprised at it’s heft, I open it to find a pocket knife, a medallion on a chain, and a scrap of paper.
The knife goes into one of my zippered pockets. It is worth more than hidden treasure. The medallion is inscribed, BLG — September 6, 2187. Turning the paper over, I read, “Escape is imperative. You are the key. Remember who you are.”
Who am I? I fold the paper and put it in a different pocket. The medallion burned my fingers. I looped it around my head. As I did my hand brushed my hair. It was tied back in an elastic. Suddenly curious, I yank it out and look at the color. My hair is the same color as the woman in the portrait before me. Could I be B. L. Grant? B… L…. I look at the medallion again. Standing I approached the portrait and enter 090687 in the lock. Hearing a pop and a click, I feel in the wood for an opening. Inside a small crevice, I find an orange key. My adventure continues….
00:30
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“Subject gained time in the gallery as expected. Appears to recognize herself, but unaffected by picture of the disaster.”
Twenty Rooms — Chapter 3: The Orange Room will be coming soon! The link will appear here when posted.
