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After what felt like hours wandering the endless white corridors, the boys finally stopped in front of a door marked by a brass plaque:
1868
The numbers gleamed softly in the hallway’s sterile light, looking strangely out of place — old-fashioned brass in a futuristic maze.
Nathan wiped sweat from his forehead. “Let’s check it out. Might be a good place to hide.”
Michael nodded, though his eyes darted nervously down the hallway. “Anywhere’s better than out here.”
Andrew crossed his arms. “As long as it’s not another sandpit planet.”
Fox adjusted his glasses. “Only one way to find out.”
Nathan turned the knob and pushed the door open.
A warm breeze drifted out.
Inside was a medium-sized room with red plastered walls and a polished wooden floor. The air smelled faintly of candle wax and old wood. A large brass bed stood beside an open window, its white curtains billowing gently in the warm countryside wind. A lantern with an unlit candle sat on a table near the bed. Across the room, a brown wooden door stood closed — and behind it, voices murmured.
Nathan froze. “Quiet. You hear that?”
Michael leaned in. “Think it’s those guys?”
Andrew shook his head. “Doesn’t sound like them. Fox, check it out.”
Fox swallowed, then crept across the room. As he passed the window, he paused and looked out.
His breath caught.
They were in the countryside — not Illinois countryside, but something older. A farmhouse sat on a gentle hill, its white siding weathered by time. A horse and black carriage rolled up a dirt road toward the house, wheels crunching softly.
Fox whispered, “We’re not in the hallway anymore. This is… real.”
He continued to the door, cracked it open, and slipped through.
The others followed, stepping into a long second-floor hallway. On the right, white walls were lined with ornate paintings — portraits of stern-looking men and women in Victorian clothing. On the left, a banister overlooked the sitting room below.
The boys dropped to the floor, peering through the spindles.
A woman stood in the sitting room, dressed in a dark gown with lace trim. Her hair was pinned up neatly, and she carried herself with the stiff posture of someone used to being obeyed. A maid approached, carrying a tray with two glasses.
“Here are your drinks, miss,” the maid said.
“Very good, Maggie. Prepare the spare room upstairs for our guest,” the woman replied.
“Yes, ma’am,” the maid said, bowing before heading toward the kitchen.
The woman handed the second glass to someone seated in a large green chair.
“All is going as planned,” she said, her smile sharp and cold.
“Yes, my dear,” a man’s voice replied. “Soon we’ll have everything we’ve ever wanted.”
Michael whispered, “Where are we?”
Fox shook his head. “Not sure. But this isn’t those guys. We’re in someone’s house.”
Nathan’s jaw tightened. “Then let’s get out of here before we get caught.”
“Back the way we came,” Andrew agreed.
They crept down the hall, slipped back into the red room, and closed the door behind them.
Inside, they huddled near the bed, whispering urgently.
“We can’t stay here,” Michael said. “Those people aren’t normal.”
“Yeah,” Andrew added. “They look like they eat kids for breakfast.”
Fox frowned. “They’re from 1868. This is a time room.”
Nathan rubbed his temples. “Great. Just great.”
Before they could argue further, the sound of footsteps echoed from the hallway — slow, deliberate, getting closer.
Nathan’s eyes widened. “Quick — back into the hallway!”
He flung the door open.
The boys rushed through. Fox followed, but as he crossed the room, his foot caught on the rug. He stumbled forward, slamming face-first into the floor. His bracelet struck the brass bed with a sharp crack.
“Fox!” Michael hissed.
Fox scrambled up and ran for the door.
But when he stepped through…
He wasn’t in the hallway.
He was alone.
In a small, empty closet.
The air was stale, and the only light came from a tiny crack under the door. Fox’s heart pounded. He grabbed the knob — locked. Panic surged through him.
No. No, no, no…
He turned toward the tiny window in the closet. It was barely big enough, but he shoved it open and climbed onto the small roof just as the maid entered the room.
He pulled the window shut behind him and scrambled up to the peak, out of sight. There, he crouched and waited, chest heaving.
Inside, the maid paused, puzzled by the thump she’d heard. She checked the window — nothing. The closet held only old coats. Under the bed, nothing. After a moment, she shook her head, chalking it up to imagination, and began making the bed.
Fox crept back down the roof and peeked inside. The maid was still tidying. He ducked just as she turned toward the window. A soft click echoed.
He looked again — the maid was leaving, slowly closing the door behind her.
Fox reached for the window.
It wouldn’t budge.
He squinted at the top frame — locked.
Just then, Nathan, Andrew, and Michael stepped out of the closet, scanning the room.
A light tapping drew their attention.
Fox was outside, crouched on the roof.
Nathan climbed onto the bed, unlocked the window, and helped Fox slide back inside.
Andrew exhaled. “Now that we’ve got Fox, let’s get the heck out of here.”
Fox shook his head. “Wait. I think my bracelet’s broken. I can’t go through the door.”
Andrew blinked. “What do you mean?”
Fox held up the bracelet. A hairline crack ran across the glowing circle. “I think this is one of those time rooms I read about. Without a working bracelet, I’m stuck.”
Michael’s face paled. “What do we do?”
Fox handed the bracelet to Nathan. “See if you can find a replacement. Or a way to fix it.”
Andrew threw up his hands. “How are we supposed to do that?”
“There has to be a place,” Fox said. “Just hurry.”
He crawled beneath the brass bed. “I’ll hide here until you get back.”
Nathan nodded. “We’ll find something.”
The three boys slipped through the door, leaving Fox behind in the quiet red room.
Nathan, Andrew, and Michael slipped through the door, leaving Fox hidden beneath the brass bed in the quiet red room. The moment the door clicked shut behind them, the hallway’s cool, sterile air washed over their faces again — a sharp contrast to the warm, candle‑scented air of 1868.
Nathan held Fox’s cracked bracelet tightly. “We need to find a replacement. Fast.”
Michael nodded. “Before those people come back. Or before those other guys find this room.”
Andrew shuddered. “I still can’t believe we’re in some Victorian murder house.”
“Focus,” Nathan said. “Let’s move.”
They hurried down the corridor, checking rooms as they went. Each door opened into something stranger than the last.
The first room they tried opened into a massive water park — rainbow slides twisting into an ocean‑sized pool. The air was humid and smelled like chlorine. Waves crashed against the edges of the pool, echoing through the cavernous space.
Andrew stared. “Okay… that’s awesome. But useless.”
“Next room,” Nathan said.
They shut the door and moved on.
The next room opened into a library the size of a planet. Shelves stretched upward into darkness, disappearing into the void. Floating lanterns drifted between the aisles like fireflies. A warm, papery smell drifted out.
Michael whispered, “This place is insane.”
“Yeah,” Andrew said. “But unless one of those books teaches bracelet repair, we’re wasting time.”
They closed the door.
The next room opened into an island in the South Pacific — bright sun, turquoise water, palm trees swaying in the breeze. The sound of waves crashing against the shore filled the hallway.
Andrew groaned. “Why can’t we be stuck in that room?”
“Because Fox is stuck in 1868,” Nathan said. “Keep moving.”
They shut the door.
The next room was a nightmare of geometry — endless stairs twisting in every direction, some upside down, some sideways, all leading nowhere. The boys stared for a moment, dizzy.
“Nope,” Michael said, closing the door immediately.
They kept going.
Eventually, the hallway ended abruptly — a blank white wall with a single elevator door set into it.
Andrew pointed. “Let’s take it.”
Nathan nodded. “Better than running into those guys.”
Michael pressed the button. The doors slid open with a soft chime.
Inside, a number pad glowed beside the door — digits 0 through 9.
“Guess we type the floor,” Nathan said.
“What’s the top floor?” Michael wondered.
“Try 999,” Andrew said.
“Let’s start with 100,” Michael offered.
“No — go to 50 first,” Nathan said.
“Alright. Fifty, then one hundred,” Michael agreed.
He pressed 5‑0. The doors closed. A moment later, they opened again.
“That was fast,” Nathan said.
“Are you sure you pressed it?” Andrew asked.
“Yeah,” Michael said, stepping out.
Nathan and Andrew followed. Michael pressed 50 again. The light blinked, then faded. The doors opened once more.
“See? Level 50,” Nathan said.
“Still — didn’t feel it move,” Michael said.
“It must be insanely fast,” Andrew said.
“Let’s find a place to fix this thing,” Nathan said, holding Fox’s bracelet.
They walked down the corridor, peeking into rooms. The hallway stretched on and on, each door a mystery.
“Let’s not go too far,” Nathan warned. “We’ll get lost.”
“Yeah,” Michael agreed.
While Nathan and Michael continued down the corridor, Andrew stood transfixed before a pair of massive white doors trimmed in gold.
“Hey guys,” he called softly. “I wonder what’s in here?”
Nathan and Michael joined him, staring at the ornate doors. Nathan reached out, grasped the golden handles, and slowly pulled them open.
A blinding light spilled into the hallway.
Inside was a vault of impossible wealth — gold bars stacked like bricks, coins piled high in the center, and scattered treasures glinting across the floor. Paintings, both familiar and unknown, lined the walls.
The boys stepped inside, awestruck.
Andrew drifted toward a painting and stopped, staring.
“What are you looking at?” Michael asked.
“This girl,” Andrew said quietly.
Michael joined him. The painting showed a young girl — eight years old, with yellow hair and piercing yellow eyes. Her expression was calm, almost serene, but something about her gaze felt unsettling, like she was looking straight through them.
Nathan glanced over. “Forget that. We need to find a replacement bracelet so Fox can get back.”
“I wonder who she is,” Andrew murmured.
“Who cares. Let’s go,” Nathan said.
They turned and exited the vault, closing the doors behind them. Down the hallway they went, checking rooms as they passed: a sitting room, bedrooms, swimming pools, another water park, and a jungle outside room. Nothing useful.
Finally, they reached a door at the end of the corridor. Nathan opened it.
Inside was a lab — test equipment, scattered parts, and drawers filled with strange devices. The air smelled faintly of metal and ozone.
Andrew grinned. “Jackpot.”
Inside the lab, the boys spread out immediately, rifling through drawers and cabinets. The room felt different from the others — colder, more mechanical. Metal tables lined the walls, covered in strange tools, wires, and half‑assembled devices that hummed faintly. The overhead lights flickered with a sterile white glow, casting long shadows across the floor.
Andrew yanked open a drawer. “Nothing but weird screwdrivers.”
Michael checked another. “These look like… batteries? Maybe? I don’t even know what half this stuff is.”
Nathan opened a long metal cabinet — and froze.
Inside, neatly arranged on hooks, were several silver bracelets identical to the ones they wore.
“Guys,” he said, holding one up. “Found it.”
Andrew grinned. “Finally!”
Michael exhaled in relief. “Let’s get back to Fox before something else goes wrong.”
They didn’t waste another second. Nathan grabbed the bracelet, slammed the cabinet shut, and the three boys sprinted back down the hallway, retracing their steps as fast as they could without getting lost.
The corridors seemed even longer now, stretching endlessly in both directions. Their footsteps echoed sharply, bouncing off the white walls. Every door they passed felt like a potential danger — another world, another trap, another place they didn’t have time to deal with.
“Faster,” Nathan urged.
“I’m trying!” Andrew snapped, panting.
Michael pointed. “There — the red room!”
They burst through the door.
Fox crawled out from under the brass bed, dust clinging to his shirt and hair. His face lit up when he saw the bracelet.
“You found one!”
Nathan handed it over. “Try it.”
Fox slipped the bracelet onto his wrist. The glowing circle pulsed softly — intact, unbroken.
He let out a shaky breath. “Okay… okay, good. I think it works.”
But before they could celebrate, the door burst open.
The owners of the farmhouse stepped inside — the same cold‑smiling woman and the man from the sitting room — followed by eight burly handymen.
The boys froze.
“Well, well, well,” the man said, grinning at his wife. “What do we have here?”
“Looks like we’ve got rats,” the woman sneered, her voice dripping with disdain.
“Or riff‑raff breaking into our home,” the man added, stepping closer.
Nathan instinctively stepped in front of Fox. “We were just leaving.”
The woman’s eyes narrowed. “Who are you? What are you doing here?”
Andrew bristled. “We didn’t do anything!”
“Quiet,” the man snapped. “Jim — take these boys to the cellar. Lock them up. Then go fetch the sheriff.”
One of the handymen — a tall, broad‑shouldered man with a thick beard — nodded. “Yes, sir.”
“But what if they know about our plans?” the woman asked, her voice low and sharp.
“I doubt it,” the man said. “They’re just poor little hooligans. Probably came to steal.”
“We didn’t do squat!” Andrew shouted, struggling against the grip of two handymen who grabbed him by the arms.
“ENOUGH!” the man roared. “Take them away!”
The handymen moved fast. Two grabbed each boy — rough hands clamping around their arms, lifting them off their feet. Nathan kicked wildly. Michael twisted, trying to break free. Andrew cursed loudly. Fox tried to pull away, but the man holding him was too strong.
“Let us go!” Michael yelled.
“You can’t do this!” Nathan shouted.
But their protests only made the handymen tighten their grip.
The boys were dragged toward the hallway, boots scraping against the polished wooden floor. The woman watched with a cold smile, arms crossed. The man stood beside her, smug and satisfied.
Above them, the chandelier swayed slightly from the commotion.
As they were hauled down the stairs, the boys could still hear the couple laughing — a sharp, cruel sound that echoed through the house like a warning.
The cellar door creaked open.
Darkness waited below.
And the boys were shoved inside.