Speaker: 3rd Person
Word Count: 336
Phil's stomach growled. He turned away from the door, unsure of how to react to everything going on around him. He wanted to make everything better, but some things just needed to work themselves out. And he was hungry. So hungry he felt ready to eat the goldenrod furniture.
There were three doors leading out of the red room. One just behind him led to the stairs, and to a chase to catch Keely, but the others were suddenly more interesting. To the left was a door or rather the lack of one. There was a frame but nothing in it. It lead into a hallway, into what he assumed were the bedrooms. The door that really interested him was the white one to the right, which he guessed, he hoped was the kitchen. He walked to the door and pulled it open. Beyond was a room painted avocado green with orange tiled counter tops and floors. The fridge was the same green color as the walls, with little orange flowers decaled on it.
Phil walked further in, opening the fridge and finding it empty. He cursed.
Now... where did mom hide the spray food?
He began to check the green and orange cabinets, detailed with little white flowers here and there, a classically seventies touch. No food. He paced the floor.
Why did she have to tell me to keep the door locked?
His footsteps halted as his shoe made contact with something metal and lose on the floor. He looked down. It was a handle. He looked closer and saw that a part of the floor was lined with a crack. He took hold of the handle and lifted the panel up. He was met with a folded up ladder on the other side. He kicked down on the ladder and it fell away, extending out into a dimly lit room.
"Hey! You have to give warning before you do that! You could've killed me!" It was a man's voice.
"Sorry!" Phil yelled down.