"What happened to you?" Smythe asked the trio that returned from the lighthouse empty-handed, with only wounds to show.

Frantically limping straight to miss Annabella, the professor gently lifted her bandaged hands.

"Will you be alright? What happened?" he looked at her eyes.

"Don’t worry, I patched her up," said the doctor, whose face was full of small cuts he suffered at the lighthouse’s glass panel, "I’ll be alright, don’t worry about me," Leah added.

"I did ask all of you what happened, didn’t I? Don’t have that sarcastic tone with me," Smythe snapped at him.

The doctor stopped next to him, looking at him for a moment too long.

"What?" Smythe diverted his eyes from the man’s scarred face.

"Nothing. I wasn’t being sarcastic. What’s wrong with you?"

He then passed the professor and continued toward the house, shaking his head in disapproval.

"I’m going to leave you two lovebirds alone," said Pickman who lost the will to explain what caused all this and went after Leah.

Smythe followed them both with his eyes.

"Y-you can let go of my hands now," said Annabella, who was trying to get her hands out of his usually white gloves, now sullied with blood.

She started walking toward the house too.

"Wait ... Miss Annabella ... We are all under a lot of stress. I’m genuinely concerned about everyone. I just ... you must have noticed I hold you dear by now. Please, tell me what happened at the lighthouse."

She stopped and turned back to him, trying to remove the hair the wind blew into her face. The weather was turning dark and while that would usually be an unwanted thing, it would serve them well to help put out the fire. Starting it at the right moment was crucial for this to work, though Smythe while he awaited her answer.

"Professor ... I care for you too. I have, since many letters now. It’s just ... this whole expedition ... "

"I know. It’s a disaster alright. But I’d say the worst is behind us. We have braved what came our way and have come out on top. There have been casualties though and we have nothing to show for them. I intend to right this wrong and make the greatest discovery of our time. Do you believe me?"

"I do. I believe in you, that’s why I came along. It’s not for the money."

"I’m glad to hear that," Smythe softly spoke and smiled, "Now ... tell me what happened."

* * *

"We have to look for Carter!" shouted Annabella passing through the mansion’s doorway.

"No! That is the last thing we need to do. According to your story, we’re not to be anywhere near the sea, let alone at the very shore!" Smythe limped behind her.

"What’s going on?" asked Pickman who came from the dining room where the others were.

The woman came into the dining room and started panicking.

"It’s Carter. You sent him to fetch some more water from the sea. For the fire, right?"

"Yes. Everyone bring water. What problem?" asked Ivan.

Pickman and Leah looked at each other and were ready to try to go search for the cartographer straight away. At this point, it was only Ivan that didn’t know what might be lurking in the nearby sea.

"A giant fucking squid almost dragged me down into the abyss, that’s what happened," Pickman went for the hallway, with the doctor behind him.

"No!" Smythe blocked their way with his cane, "Stop and think for two seconds! It is all I ask ... "

"He might be dead by that time!" screamed Annabella.

"And if you go and search for him, you might end up the same!"

Smythe finally made clear what everyone else seemed to disregard. His own safety was something he valued and mindless bravery was hardly going to happen just like that. Maybe at some point in time before what he witnessed at the ship, he would have a mindset similar to theirs, but after that trauma, he learned to weigh curiosity against fear.

"I see your point," Pickman was first to admit, putting a hand on his chin.

"So ... you want us to just abandon him? How are we going to trust each other after something like that?" Leah drove a hard bargain.

"Ivan look."

"What?" Smythe was surprised at his companion’s reaction.

Everyone’s eyes were now on the tall, bald Emnikatian.

"Everyone important. Know much. Ivan know little. Ivan look for Carter."

"No ... you’re important too. You’re important to me," said professor Smythe.

"Mr. Smythe trust Ivan?" he asked in a serious tone.

"Yes, of course ... Of course I trust you," he put his hand on his chest.

"Then let Ivan go. Ivan come back safe."

Everyone looked at Smythe who in the end agreed with a heavy nod. The tall man grabbed the axe and bravely marched toward the house entrance. The rest were looking at his back, their minds now calmer and with the adrenaline retreating, fear started to slowly creep into each one of them. They were relieved it wasn’t them who went out in the end, but a man they hardly knew.
Everyone except Smythe, who was tempted to go after his loyal companion, but knew he couldn’t leave the rest of them unsupervised. Slightly maddened by the events thus far, there was no telling what they might do.

"Listen to me," he broke the silence, "We have to take action."

Yes, keeping them busy was a wise choice. That way, they’d have no time to get crazy ideas, thought the professor.

"It will be raining soon. Don’t you feel it in the air? It’s a perfect opportunity to start this fire. Carter, Ivan, and I already prepared everything. The bags of sand and water buckets are here. The water tank can be released via a makeshift pole, from the outside. The petroleum was dispersed over the black roots. The door has been chained up. All we need to do now is throw a lit match in, and put out the fire after all of the rot has been burned. We can’t have the fire spread to the rest of the house. Luckily, this room is separate on the outside and the rain will take care of it in the worst-case scenario.
Are you all ready?"

They all looked at each other and reluctantly nodded, some after the others.

"Good. Let’s begin."

After positioning themselves accordingly, they all awaited for Smythe’s to show them the agreed sign. Pickman was outside, waiting to turn the water tank’s crank via a long wooden pole. Leah and Smythe were ready to throw sand and water at the fire if it starts burning the hallway. Annabella was tasked with lighting a match and throwing it in through the hole in the door left by the axe, after which she was to help the two men with their task.

"Are you ready?" Smythe asked her, from the entrance, where he observed the weather.

"Yes," she said even though her hands were shaking.

"Alright, the rain is starting soon. I felt a couple of drops already. Light it up," said the professor.

She nodded and after a few unsuccessful attempts, lit the match. She threw it into the dark room and it got lit up in seconds. The petroleum fuel was doing its work. The fire started strong and it seemed to contain itself only to the desired room, due to the door being almost completely shut and the oxygen scarce.

"Mmmmmgh! NNNnnnnGGHGHH!"

A muffled voice could be heard.

"I-is that ... ? Do you hear that?" asked Annabella, who was closest to the room.

"What? I don’t hear anything ... " shrugged Smythe.

"Yeah ... what do you mean? Hear what exactly?" asked the doctor.

As the fire began to spread and the wood started creaking, the muffled noises turned into an outright scream.

"Iaaaa! AAAAAaaaaarght! * cough, cough * AAA! Aaaaa ...  ... ."

To the horror of the trio, who now had their eyes and ears completely open, what sounded like a human scream was coming out from the burning room. It continued for a prolonged time and was unbearable. Annabella took a step back and put a hand on her mouth, as the realization that she was the one who threw the match slowly crept into her conscious thoughts. The screaming became quieter and rarer until it completely disappeared.