Page 30 of The Little Shop of Curiosities, The Music Box Part 2

“Don’t worry, I’ll find him.” Dusty rolls her eyes and disappears.

For a moment, the room is absolutely silent as we all stand around waiting. It’s true Harrison couldn’t have strayed far from the room, but I don’t think he would’ve wandered off on his own, not in this place, not with the creepy shit that’s gone on recently.

Fuck.

I’ve got a really bad feeling. Just as I’m about to turn and head out of the room to find him myself, Dusty reappears looking…worried.

“What?” I ask, an unpleasant feeling curdling in my stomach. “What’s wrong? Where is he?”

“I can’t find him.” She bites her lip anxiously. “Anywhere,” she adds, and that unpleasant feeling becomes a stab of panic.

“What do you mean, anywhere?” I demand.

“I mean he isn’t anywhere in the entire building or surrounding area. I can’t find him.”

“That’s impossible.” Tristan gathers up all the files Viv left for him, tucking them safely against his chest. “He has to be somewhere.”

“We should split up and start searching,” Danny, ever the pragmatist, states.

“I’m sure he’s just off somewhere looking for the loo,” Chan offers.

“I’d be able to find him if that was the case, but I’m telling you, I can’t see him, and I can lock onto any one of you with a thought. Where Harrison should be is just a blank space.”

“Don’t let him hear you calling him a blank space,” Tristan mutters.

“We should definitely split up then.” Chan picks up an oversized handbag and slings it over his shoulder. “After all, we could cover more ground that way.” He grabs a couple of scarves and wraps them around his neck. “Danny and Tris should start downstairs.” He slides a pair of Audrey Hepburn-style glasses on and flips his hair over his shoulder. “Sam and I will check this floor.”

“That’s not a bad idea,” Tristan says as he and Danny head for the door. “Chan, put them back,” he calls over his shoulder without looking.

Chan huffs and unwinds the scarves from his neck but not before slipping the sunglasses into his pocket.

“I’ll keep looking,” Dusty says, and in the blink of an eye, she’s gone again.

I follow Danny and Tristan out the door, but as they head down the steps, I turn to the right and start opening doors. There’s nothing but room after empty room, draughty, dark, and filled with boxes and junk. It really is a hoarder’s paradise.

“Anything?” Chan appears halfway down the hallway behind me, wearing a bright orange fake fur coat and a purple velvet Mary Quant Baker Boy cap.

“No, nothing,” I reply as the hairs on the back of my neck begin to prickle.

Slowly, I turn towards the end of the corridor. The deep shadows seem to part like a curtain, revealing another set of stairs, and in front of them is a fox sitting calmly, its coat a deep burnished red that reminds me of Harrison’s hair. Its face, the tips of its ears, and its long, bushy tail are black.

“What the fuck is that?” Chan gasps.

“It’s a fox,” I murmur as I stare at it.

“No, it’s not. I’ve seen plenty of urban foxes across London. They’re cute and red and scream really loud when they’re boinking each other. That thing looks like it’s about to lead us into the Underworld to suck out our souls…and what the hell is it doing in here? Don’t they, like, have rabies or something?”

“I don’t think it’s a regular fox,” I reply quietly as it holds my gaze.

After a moment, it stands and turns towards the stairs, then glances back over its shoulder to us.

“I think it wants us to follow it.”

“Hang on a second there, Mr Tumnus,” Chan says incredulously. “You want us to follow a magical, possibly soul-sucking fox into the creepiest part of this house of horrors? Is that what you’re saying?”

“Yes.”

“Are you mad?”