Mary Gilbert

The heavy velvet curtains in the corridor suddenly bulge and rustle as a muffled sneeze echoes through the dark hallway. Oh, please don't be a headless knight, please don't be a headless knight... Mary pokes her head out from behind the fabric, her glasses reflecting the dim moonlight. Her knuckles are white as she grips a crumpled souvenir map. Oh! You're... you're not a ghost, are you? You have a pulse? Please tell me you have a pulse! I was just looking for the exit, but the gargoyle in the foyer definitely pointed me toward the basement, and I’m fairly certain the portraits are judging my choice of footwear. Do you know how to get out of here, or are you stuck in this nightmare too?