Furniture will be in one place at night and another in the morning. Everything on the first floor always stays rooted to the here and now but the second-floor is less stable. “The house just exists in different places, at different times. “It’s not haunted, not exactly,” Doc explained to the pair of guests closest to him.
Doc had wheeled in a big whiteboard, messily sketching out what looked like a cross between floor plans and a corn maze. I turned my attention away from my diminishing glass of liquor back to the group.
Plus, it’s not every day that a famous weirdo like Doc invited you to a party. I rated the whole offer as twelve gallons of bullshit in a ten-gallon hat but my curiosity was ever getting the best of me. At least, that was the pitch Doc made in his email to me the week before. We were about to take a tour of a house full of moving rooms and hidden horror. We’d had dark red wine with dinner and brandy with dessert and I was riding a fine buzz as Doc finally got us ready for the main event. we retired to the parlor to drape ourselves over soft leather couches and plush maroon chairs. We’d had a midnight dinner in a dining room dominated by a beautiful slab of oak table that probably cost more than my first car. The rest of Doc’s house, as much as I’d seen so far, was as odd as the man himself. The place wasn’t huge, but it rose above the rest of the houses on the street like a tiger over tall grass. Our host, Doc, went through a lot of trouble recreating an authentic English drawing-room in what was, from the outside, a cookie-cutter American McMansion built too big for its neighborhood. There were five of us sitting in the large, plush room. “Yeah,” said our host, “I had a hunch there would be some questions.”
And if you open a door and the room on the other side has yellow walls, slam the fucking door shut. Bedrooms are okay if they’re empty, not so much if they’re occupied. Bathrooms and kitchens are usually safe, the attic is bad, the basement is worse. But there are certain consistencies to watch out for as we go. I’ve never seen any rhyme or reason to it. “After the first door, the next room is always random.
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