So we've had our second drop out in the currently running exquisite corpse. I thought we could work around the holidays, but I guess not. Well, that makes it my turn to pick up the baton and run. And I have to follow that clever writer @fromage.

But before I get into that, here's a break to say that a redesign of Garden Gnome Publications is nearing completion and will soon get the reboot with some fantabulous fiction from many quarters. And if you haven't already, follow GGP on Steemit to keep up with publication schedules, submission calls, contests, and a potpourri of other flurries.

In case you haven't been keeping up, @bennettitalia kicked us off with the first episode of Glockenspiel's Experiment. That was followed by up @blueeyes8960, who added a twist of her own. @fromage jumped in with Part 3 of the story. And now it's my turn.

But first, the cast and crew:

Elizabeth Lightwood, the corpse of a not-so-nice socialite
Doctor Ludwig Von Glockenspiel, who is said to be able to raise the dead
Helga, his maid
Lord Thimbleberry of Darbyshire upon Wexley-Haversham East
Inspector Posthaste of Scotland Yard
Lieutenant Jameson McWhisk, Inspector Posthaste's assistant
Edmond Dantish, a starving artist and socialite corpse admirer
Pugnacia Arabesque, the corpse's best friend
Alfredo the butler

Glockenspiel's Experiment - Part 4

Pugnacia put her hand on the knob of the servant's door and pushed. It didn't budge. She decided to pull instead. No change. "Devil's blood!" she cursed.

Quickly, she turned and looked around for a way out. She had forgotten which path she had travelled to get here. No time to think, no time think. She ran down a hallway to her left, not quite sure if it was where she should be going. All she could think about was poor Liza, exploding head of a corpse she had been a few seconds before. That could be me next.

Before long, she found herself in a round room with a spiraling ceiling. Above her, a crystal blue spire rose up toward the sky and seemed to go on forever, growing thinner as it approached the heavens. Pug suddenly felt claustrophobic.

Around the room were several wooden doors with brass knockers. A staircase to her right led upward and around the spiraling ceiling. What now?

A gunshot. Down the hall. Footsteps. They were coming in her direction. She ran to the first door on the left, hesitated, took a deep breath, and pulled on the brass knocker.

The door swung open. Out sprang a lyncanthrope, snarling and grinding its teeth. The animal leapt right past her like she wasn't there and perched in the center of the room facing the hallway where Pug had heard the gunshot and footsteps. She ran to the next door and opened it. As she was about step through, Nosferatu strolled out and past her smoking a long thin cigarette. "Thanks, my dear. I'd been in there much too long."

She couldn't believe her eyes, nor her ears. First, a lycanthrope, then Nosferatu. And neither of them seemed the least bit interested in her. Males of any species, she thought to herself, they're all the same.

Footsteps. They were much closer. She knew whoever they belonged to would soon be entering the room. She pushed herself through the door from which Nosferatu had just exited and closed it behind her. Great. I'm trapped.

Her mind ran through several trails of emotion logic and a few briar-laden paths of mathematical formulas trying to work a way out of her seemingly impossible predicament. Finally, she consulted the closest thing to an oracle she had. "Computer." Her voice cracked. "Dice roll."

The cockney voice returned, "You rolled a twelve."

"Success!"

She pumped her fist into the palm of her hand as the cockney informed her, "You see a secret passage in the corner on the wall opposite the door."

As soon as she heard the words, she saw the outline of the passage. She ran to it and pushed. It opened. Without hesitation, she ran through into the darkness. A small tunnel, no lighting, engulfed her as the secret door closed behind her.

Alone, with no clue where she was headed, she hugged the wall, her only comfort. It seemed to be closing in on her with each blind step. The ceiling, too, seemed to lower. She soon found herself on hands and knees, crawling, a wall against both shoulders, and nothing but darkness all around. She paused for a breath. In the darkness, all she could hear was the tap-pat scuttling of her heart. And footsteps.

Who's Next?

And now I leave it in the capable hands of @sarez, who will be followed by @quillfire, then @stever82, and finally, pulling up the rear, will be @yestermorrow.

Remember, 3 to 5 days for each leg of the story. And may auld acquaintance ne'er be forgot!

Get your weird lit on:

The Biblical Legends Anthology Series