The mushrooms. Some of the mushrooms are gone. I’m sure I’ve divided them from the edible ones, and now they are gone.

Annabella kept her face inside of her hands, stretching her tired face when her eyes focused on an empty part of her desk where the previously gathered mushrooms were missing. Crazy ideas were ravaging her mind, together with the fact she was responsible for the murder of someone or some ...thing, that was in the room when she started the fire.
The fire was successfully put out and upon investigating it, there was no sign of anything except ashes, wooden remains, and the locked cellar doors that lay horizontally, leading somewhere underground.

"Was that ...  no it couldn’t be ... Carter? What would he be doing there?" she tried to find an answer to the question that tortured her the most, "Who was that screaming? Who ... what was that screaming?"

Trying to console herself, she came up with the notion that maybe the black roots were sentient and were screaming, but the voice she heard sounded human to her, and yet there was some twisted logic in that. If the being was intelligent or at least highly adaptable, maybe it was copying a human voice to provoke empathy. After what she saw today, it wouldn’t surprise her to encounter more unfamiliar creatures in these lands. After all, this island was the furthest place north anyone lived and the biome here was not well known inland.

Annabella stood up almost in anger and headed out of her room. She went straight to the room next door in which professor Smythe was staying.

"You—" she stopped immediately, realizing he wasn’t here.

She went to the dining room, where Pickman and Leah were having dinner.

"Hey ... " her voice softened.

"Good evening miss. Care to join us? There isn’t much food left and worse yet, the only water we have is the seawater that we cooked. It’s not really recommended to drink too much of it, but the ship arrives tomorrow and it will last us until then," the doctor said and then continued to eat.

"I’m not really hungry. Was Carter found?"

Leah and Pickman looked at each other and shook their heads.

"Even Ivan didn’t return. Smythe has been outside all evening, waiting for him," said the archaeologist.

She walked to the window. Looking out she saw Smythe standing outside in the wind, leaning on his cane and facing the sea. He was almost completely in the dark except for the little light that was coming from the window. His purple coat was lifted by the winds but he himself remained stationary like a scarecrow.

Annabella returned to the table and sat down.

"I’m sorry ... would you ... hear me out?" she asked almost with a whisper.

The duo looked at each other once again and then lowered the utensils, only chewing whatever remained in their mouths.

"We’re listening," said Axel Pickman.

"Some of the mushrooms I put aside are gone."

"Haha ... somebody was hungry," laughed the doctor.

"No! Listen!" she came closer, "I was planning to throw them away as I checked what they are. These mushrooms are known to cause hallucinations or if mixed with the right ingredients, can even be made into a sleeping drug."

The doctor lifted an eyebrow, looking at Pickman, then back at her.

"What are you saying?" asked the archaeologist.

"Someone might have paralyzed Carter. Put him to sleep, then left him tied in the room that I ... " she looked down.

"It’s not your fault. Whoever did this, planned it," said Leah Eris.

"Wait a minute. Don’t jump to conclusions. We checked afterward and found not a trace of Carter among the ashes," said Pickman.

"How do you know anything would remain? Did you ever have a chance to examine burned human remains? I sure didn’t," Annabella insisted.

"We would have found bones," the doctor interjected, "Besides, who do you suggest put Carter there? And more importantly, why?"

"I think ... it was Smythe and Ivan," said Annabella.

"What makes you say that?" asked the doctor.

"Well ... they were alone with Carter, while the three of us were sent to the lighthouse. Who makes all the plans here? Hmm? Smythe does," she pointed at the window.

"Yeah sure, but then again, why would Smythe, who paid us all to come here, gain from killing Carter? And in such a contrived way no less?" Pickman protested.

"What about the creature we saw? Wouldn’t it make sense that it was a hallucination?" she insisted.

"You call this a hallucination?" Leah aggressively pointed at his face filled with small but noticeable scars.

"No, of course not," Annabella showed her bandaged palms, "But the thing we saw ... it’s unlike anything I’ve ever heard of."

"What did you two see?" Pickman’s curiosity was now piqued.

"An elongated limb, shiny and covered in slime ... " started Leah.

" ... greyish with a layer of transparent skin, under which purple veins could be seen," finished Annabella.

"Yes, that’s exactly what I saw too, so it couldn’t have been a hallucination, right?" he turned to the doctor.

"Well, technically, a mass hallucination is not an impossibility, but to have seen an identical thing, I am more inclined to accept it being true," Leah shrugged.

Unsatisfied with where this was going and unable to convince the two men, Annabella stood up and headed for the entrance. Her boots echoed through the wooden floor in a steady rhythm. There was no doubt in her mind she had to confront Smythe himself about this or she will know no peace.
Upon reaching the outside, she spotted Ivan climbing up the hill and decided to hide behind a nearby bush in order to listen in.

"Ivan, thank the gods ... You had me worried," said Smythe as he limped toward the man. He put his hand on the man’s shoulder.

"Mr. Smythe ... " the tall man bent over as if he walked for miles, now trying to catch his breath, "Carter found?"

"No. And you?" asked Smythe.

"Ivan was careful."

"I’m glad you were. And no more fishing. Gods know what lurks in the dark waters," said the professor as he tapped his shoulder, "Come, let’s head inside.

As they were passing the bush Annabella was hiding in, Smythe spotted her.

"Oh! Excuse us!" he chuckled, "Are the toilets in the house that bad?"

"Haha ... yeah, it’s tough without any water," she stood up and chuckled with them.

"Don’t mind us, we’ll be on our way," said the man and continued toward the mansion.

"Ivan ... " she stopped them, "Were you looking for Carter?"

"Yes. Ivan look. Where you think Ivan was? Picking flowers?" the man got visibly upset.

"Why were you looking for Carter though? We found his glasses among the ashes, remember?"

Ivan scratched his bald head and turned to Smythe for answers. The other didn’t look back at him but kept staring at the woman.

"What are you trying to accomplish with those lies miss? Are you trying to confuse poor Ivan? Do you take joy in being the more intelligent one? Or are you trying to pin the murder you committed on someone else, and Ivan is the only one you can outsmart?"

"What? I didn’t kill anyone!" she yelled.

"No? Who threw the match?" Smythe squinted his yellow eyes.

"How can you be so sure Carter was inside the room? You put him to sleep and locked him in!"

"You just said his glasses were found," Smythe fixed his own glasses subconsciously.

"I ... I lied. I wanted to test you. I admit it. I was sure you took my mushrooms," she softened up.

"Mushrooms?" Smythe lifted an eyebrow.

"Yes ... the toxic ones from my table. I had them put aside for disposal. If misused, one could make them into a sleeping or hallucination-inducing drug. They are all gone though."

"Sounds to Ivan miss Annabella had the best opportunity to drug us."

Remembering she was the one who picked them and even fried them for dinner in the first place, the woman took a step back.

"No, Ivan ... it all makes sense now. So that’s what he was looking at," Smythe touched his chin.

"What ... who?" Annabella was confused.

"Pam Carter. I caught him looking into your room at night. I thought he was ... well, it turns out he was after the mushrooms, but for what purpose?"

Grossed out by what she was hearing, the woman put her hands on her chest.

"And what were you doing outside with him?" she asked the professor.

"I was taking a stroll—"

"Right, tight," she said sarcastically.

"I had a nightmare, alright? I suffer from mild insomnia."

"What a perfect excuse," she still wasn’t satisfied with the answer, "And the first thing that comes to mind is to go out in front of my window?" she eyed him.

"Look ... " he scratched his head, "I thought I saw the trees move—"

"Enough!" she put her boot down, "I’ve had enough of you and this damn place! I don’t know where Carter is, either he was dragged into the sea or burned alive, but I wouldn’t be surprised if he did plain left us and went back to the village, all things considered.
And if it’s as you say and he took the damn mushrooms, what would be the purpose?"

"Well ... if he was an addict ... that would explain why he’s gone. In a state of delirium, he might have gone somewhere or indeed had fallen asleep in one of the corners of the dark room," Smythe ignored her outburst and started speculating.

"How can you be so calm?!" she breathed heavily, "And ... where was the last you’ve seen him?"

She looked both at the professor and his companion.

"Ivan and Carter bring water buckets. One by one. Ivan faster finish. Thinks Carter went to shore. Feel guilty that’s why look for Carter," the scar-faced man explained.

Annabella’s shoulders relaxed and her head went hanging as she stared helplessly at the dirty ground beneath her feet. The tall man shrugged and turned to the house when she raised her voice once more.

"Where the hell is my guinea pig? Where is Mr. Puffles!?" she screamed at them from the top of her lungs. This question was a thorn in her heart for a long time now but she knew there were far more important matters at stake. At least for everyone else, but for her, the disappearance of her pet was something she couldn’t just let go.

The two men looked at each other and Smythe gave an approving nod to Ivan.

"Miss Annabella ... Ivan sorry. Is Ivan’s fault."

She looked at him with a mixture of curiosity and rage, awaiting a full explanation.

"Ivan was watching over miss sleep. Was bored and opened cage to play with hamster. Hamster escape clumsy hands and ... Mr. Smythe ... "

Her stare turned toward the professor who remained quiet until now.

"I ... I killed mister Puffles," he took off his glasses.