Laurent walked through the door that Beast opened for him, dying to meet other people so he wasn’t stuck with his conflicting feelings for Beast.
Hound followed his master with histhick black tail wagging. The dog kept looking back at Laurent, as if he didn’t trust him, but with the sound of music getting louder as the three of them progressed down the corridor. Laurent was glad when they finally came upon a mirror, as there wasn’t one in Beast’s apartment, and he glanced into the reflection of his whole body to make sure he was indeed presentable.
The surface of the glass was slightly bent though, as if the mirror had an imperfection Laurent couldn’t pinpoint. It wasn’t that it was misshaped, like the ones in the hall of mirrors they had visited with Beast yesterday, but even with the glasses firmly on his nose, Laurent’s reflection was slightly unclear, and dark shadows hid in the corners. Nothing like the clean, smooth surfaces that he’d seen in such big numbers at the mall.
They took a different corridor than last time, but all the passages melted into one big maze in Laurent’s mind anyway. All with paint peeling off the walls like skin in the summer and corridors with floors made of dirty-looking tiles. With each room they passed, the sense of unease was growing in Laurent at the sight of fallen chairs and broken bedframes. They were in such contrast to Beast’s clean, fresh apartment full of items Laurent could bet were expensive. No wonder Beast didn’t want to live here.
But the the closer they came to the noise the more orderly their surroundings became. The corridors, while still vast, changed in shape somewhat, and Laurent’s newly proficient sight even noticed crumbled traces of decoration that were of a familiar Grecian style. Was this an old building that was still occupied the same way some European kings lived in old castles back in Laurent’s time?
His thoughts flowed freely as he followed Beast down a neat-looking hallway until they faced a grand spiral staircase, partially enclosed by wooden arches that looked like tall castle windows and stood out so completely from the simplicity and crudeness of everything else in the clubhouse that Laurent found himself speeding up to take a closer look.
He faced the circular space the staircase revolved around, and it was as if someone hit the back of his head, emptying his mind until only dull pain remained. In the bright daylight coming through the windows behind Laurent’s back, the vicious, disfigured face of a gargoyle stared at Laurent, mocking him with a half-smile. The cutlery and plates jiggled on the tray when Laurent’s whole body shook in terror. He stared back into the deep, lifelike eyes of the creature, which has been sculpted with such attention to detail it felt as if it could move any moment now, flying toward the tall ceiling on its spread wings.
It was the very same statue that confused Laurent when he had first entered William Fane’s house. And once Laurent knew this much, his gaze inevitably reached behind the monster, to the discolored wooden panels that bore traces of mold yet still hid the secrets of torture and death. Through that hidden door Fane had led him like a lamb for slaughter.
He didn’t even realize he’d stopped until Beast spoke to him. “Weird, right? I’m surprised they didn’t remove that thing when the hospital was established here. Seeing sculptures like this couldn’t have helped the patients,” he said, approaching the monstrosity, and he stroked its malformed muzzle.
Laurent’s lips twisted into a scowl, but he managed to steady his hands to make the contents of the tray stable despite the nausea rising in his throat. “What is this place?”
Particles of dust danced in the air, creating a quaint atmosphere, yet Laurent’s heart raced as if it wished to forcefully pull him out of here and through the nearest door. He’d seen the enormous complex of buildings from the outside twice already, but throughout the past two hundred years the facade must have been modified, because it looked nothing like Fane’s mansion. Though to be fair Laurent had only seen it once in the past, and at nighttime at that.
Shivers went down his spine when he glanced at the secret door that had led him to Fane’s chamber of horrors, but Beast already nudged him along the corridor.
“Oh, King’s owned it since the early 2000s, but it used to be a psychiatric institution before that. That’s why there are so many rooms. It’s a pain in the ass, if you ask me,” he said as they walked past what used to be the main hall at the entrance.
Now that Laurent realized that he’d traveled in time but was in the same place, evidence of it was creeping up on him from every direction. The original doors have been reshaped, but the panel above them still had a wave-like decoration adorned with a relief depicting a garland of flowers. The alcoves in the walls now had little lamps instead of naked statues, but when Laurent looked up, Dionysus's face stared back at him the same way it had when he first entered the house with Fane. The fresco was dark, the paint cracked, and some of the plaster had crumbled and fallen off, leaving blank holes in the painting of the bacchanalia, but it was, without a doubt, the same one.