DUMBWAITER
With a steadying breath, you wrench open the dumbwaiter door. The Lodger’s luggage falls out onto the floor at your feet. You look from it to the darkness of the dumbwaiter shaft, trying to ignore the twist of vertigo that skates through you.
You retrieve the Lodger’s luggage from the floor and inspect its contents. It’s vacant save for a sole newspaper clipping regarding an incident that happened involving Mr. Emmett.
As you handle the luggage, a fine mist rises from the floor, forming into the apparition you know as Emmett, the Lodger.
“Please tell me you can save the child.”
“If I knew, don’t you think I’d tell you? I’d be there trying to save the girl! I don’t have a thing to do with this, honest-thomas. I care about that girl, about all the McDermotts, they don’t deserve any of this black magic, bad luck bunkum.“
“At first, I couldn’t remember much past getting home and going to my room, but… it’s starting to come back to me. Remember when I said we all went inside the house to warm up a bit? Mrs. McDermott brought out some hot cocoa, and we all partook to shake off the chill. When it seemed like we wouldn’t be doing no more choring for the night, I decided to make my exit. I snuck off to my room and grabbed my bags. I started to feel a bit nauseous, and a sickly taste was in my mouth. Something told me I needed to get out of there ASAP. I grabbed what I could and stepped out of my room, clenching my stomach. I remember seeing Virgil in the hall, wide-eyed with shock and fear, just as I dropped my bags and everything went dark real quick. I reckon that’s what it feels like to be poisoned.”
“Done your research, I see. Well, the papers tell a story, right enough, but not the whole story. Let me tell you the rest of it. I was a teacher, once, a good one, too. You have to know how to work with the students to educate them, not just teach at them. You have to let them learn, get messy, make mistakes. Well, I was a little too allowing, and overestimated one of my student’s abilities, and they ended up paying the price for the freedom I’d allowed them. I made a mistake and it cost a poor child their life. It was an honest mistake, not murder! I couldn’t imagine someone actually choosing to hurt… I don’t understand that sort of depravity.“
You retrieve the Lodger’s luggage from the floor and inspect its contents. It’s vacant save for a sole newspaper clipping regarding an incident that happened involving Mr. Emmett.
As you handle the luggage, a fine mist rises from the floor, forming into the apparition you know as Emmett, the Lodger.
“Please tell me you can save the child.”
“If I knew, don’t you think I’d tell you? I’d be there trying to save the girl! I don’t have a thing to do with this, honest-thomas. I care about that girl, about all the McDermotts, they don’t deserve any of this black magic, bad luck bunkum.“
“At first, I couldn’t remember much past getting home and going to my room, but… it’s starting to come back to me. Remember when I said we all went inside the house to warm up a bit? Mrs. McDermott brought out some hot cocoa, and we all partook to shake off the chill. When it seemed like we wouldn’t be doing no more choring for the night, I decided to make my exit. I snuck off to my room and grabbed my bags. I started to feel a bit nauseous, and a sickly taste was in my mouth. Something told me I needed to get out of there ASAP. I grabbed what I could and stepped out of my room, clenching my stomach. I remember seeing Virgil in the hall, wide-eyed with shock and fear, just as I dropped my bags and everything went dark real quick. I reckon that’s what it feels like to be poisoned.”
“Done your research, I see. Well, the papers tell a story, right enough, but not the whole story. Let me tell you the rest of it. I was a teacher, once, a good one, too. You have to know how to work with the students to educate them, not just teach at them. You have to let them learn, get messy, make mistakes. Well, I was a little too allowing, and overestimated one of my student’s abilities, and they ended up paying the price for the freedom I’d allowed them. I made a mistake and it cost a poor child their life. It was an honest mistake, not murder! I couldn’t imagine someone actually choosing to hurt… I don’t understand that sort of depravity.“