A Most Unusual Chamber



    The gallery is large, eight-sided, and most ornate, of the type where one would hang portraits of patriarchs and nobility. Only four portraits decorate these walls: a stern-faced bearded man, a young woman who holds a parasol, a smiling old lady with a rose, and a smug looking young man. From a ledge between the portraits and the floor, at each corner a stone gargoyle glares down, clutching in its hands each a tall, flickering taper which provide the light. Far above, the ceiling tops the tall chamber in an ornate plastered ceiling.



    The deep, booming voice of the ghost host once again echoes through the chamber.

    A human voice speaks, and for perhaps the first time a servant standing in a shadowy corner becomes apparent. “For the best viewing of the four portraits above, kindly drag your bodies away from the walls and into the dead center of the gallery.”


    There is a moment when all is silent, and then suddenly the room begins to metamorphose of its own accord.  Although the striped-wallpapered walls do not appear to move, they lengthen at the top and bottom! All around, the portraits appear to shift as well… the top of the portrait begins to rise, while the bottom of the portrait reveals more of the painting!

    The young lady with the parasol has found herself atop a fraying tightrope stretched across a river, where a hungry crocodile waits patiently below.
    The older gentleman is, in fact, wearing only boxers from the waist down, and is standing atop a keg of dynamite, the fuse having been lit by a nearby candle.
    The smug young man is sitting on the shoulders of another man, who sits on the shoulders of another man, who is the only one aware they all three are sinking rapidly into quicksand. And the old woman sits atop her husband’s grave and, judging from the bust of him at the bottom and her knowing smile, she put an axe in his head some time ago.


    The ghost host now breaks out in laughter, as the distant portraits seem much farther from the ceiling than before, the wall space between the top of the frame and the ornate, wood carved recess gradually creeping longer and longer... the voice rings out again, seeming to offer relief...


    The room goes black, and there is immediately a crack of thunder as, far above, the ceiling has vanished and now the unfinished attic top of the spire is illuminated through four windows and flashes of lightning. In the center of the attic, staring down through a mess of long, tangled white hair, the skeleton of the ghost host gazes down at you through vacant eye sockets, swinging gently from a taught rope which forms a noose around his neck.


Just as suddenly, the scene is gone, and the entire room plunges into pitch darkness as we hear a scream that gets louder and louder, until, with a crash, a body lands on the floor of the gallery with a thump that can be felt. The gallery relights, the ceiling now having bafflingly re-appeared in its former place, hiding the secret above. There is a short pause and finally, a hidden door slides open.