A heavy frown marred his face as he studied the girl's scribblings. It didn't look like a word, it didn't even look like a drawing! Tilting his head, Finn tried to decipher the meaning of the straight lines as he scratched his head. Then it dawned on him. It was a map! A broad smile parted his lips and he gave Molly a thumbs up before leading the way again. After a few rooms, the game became quite clear to Finn and he eagerly showed her each and every room whilst also taking care to avoid as many adults as possible along the way.
Finn almost skipped over the director's office. He hadn't really counted the room as part of the game since few people ever entered it.
"What is it?" Finn said as he halted. Molly seemed excited, but she had appeared that way near every door they'd passed. This time it was different though. Her pointing was insistant and almost violent in nature.
Finn retraced his steps until he stood next to Molly and looked down at the improvised map over her shoulder.
There was no doubting her intent. First she pointed to the map, then to the door, and then to him and herself. Finn cocked his head to the side and took a step back, his eyes widened with disbelief. "You gots to be joking..."
Access was limited to the director, Mr. Barnelby, and the caretakers. Yet, even the caretakers required a direct invitation from the director himself. The mere thought of an orphan slipping into that holy space was despicable and sinful. Even the most rowdy teens among the ragtag assembly of orphans adhered to this sacred rule. No one...no one entered the director's office uninvited...
The rare, damned orphans that were called into the director's office were never to be seen again, only further fueling the mysticism that surrounded the place. Many wild rumours of what lay on the other end of the heavy wooden door existed, the most prevalent being that it was actually a torture room and that every so often, wicked children were sacrificed to some Immortal or another in an arcane ritual. While Finn doubted the truth of these rumours, he knew one thing for certain, if he was caught sneaking into the director's office, every cane in the house would be broken on his back, and then some. Even he, the most curious of all the boys and girls, hadn't so much as dared to peek through the keyhole.
As if that wasn't enough reason to stay well clear, Finn considered that the door was almost certainly locked. Contrary to popular opinion among the caretakers, Finn had little experience with lockpicking and had only nicked a key once before, and that had been at night, not in broad daylight.
He shook his head at Molly. "No way. No...I am not going to..."
Her gestures only became wilder.
"Look," Finn said as he bounded over toward the damned door. "We can't..." he seized the doorhandle, "cause it's locked!" he pushed down on the handle to demonstrate his point-
-The squeaky door gave way.
Finn's heart skipped a few beats as the door gently creaked open, allowing a brief waft of the air inside to tease his nostrils. It smelled of secrets...Finn looked to Molly, then to the door, and then to Molly again. "I...I thought it was locked..." he stuttered. At once he considered that it didn't ever need to be either, for all the orphans feared going in so much that no one would ever try to open it.
Until now.
For a trill he considered pulling the creaking door shut again. But how could he? A faint ray of light traced the floor between the door and the doorpost, tempting him to enter. The treasure chest had been opened, and beckoned them inside.
"I'm insane," he muttered under his breath as he pushed the door further open and motioned for Molly to join him inside. As soon as they were in, Finn shut the door behind them and turned the lock on the inside, making sure that no one else would interrupt them. The air inside was thick and muggy, as though time itself had crawled to a halt and staled it.
"Okay then..." he exhaled a ragged breath, as though he'd narrowly leapt across an abyss. "We're in..."
His eyes roved through the room. The most notable piece of furniture was the ornate and ancient looking mahogany desk that stood in the center of the room whilst a little light slipped past two velvet red curtains that masked the windows behind it. The left wall was occupied by a large bookshelf with drawers along the bottom row. Somewhat to his disappointment, he could not immediately spot any torture devices.
Then again, he didn't look to carefully, Molly was forgotten for a moment as Finn strutted over to the desk and started pulling open the various drawers. He quickly found what he sought and after a few trills of browsing fished out a fairly thick bundle of papers labeled "Finnegan O'Connor".
Careful to keep the papers in the same order he found them in, Finn let his eyes slide over the countless reports that had been written on him. He soon discovered that the papers were sorted by his age, with the latest files being on top. He also noticed that the recommendations against him got less desperate as he proceeded backward in time, and found that before his 9th arc, he hadn't been involved in much trouble at all and was instead greeted by several praising notes on his achievements and good spirit. Though the memories brought a smile too his face, it wasn't until he peeled back the very last paper that he truly smiled. There it was. At the very bottom of the pile. A vale, brown envelope reading:
"For Finnegan, when he has come of age."
He shivered as his fingers touched the old envelope that his mother had left with him. His sister had had one too, he knew, she had gotten hers when she'd left the orphanage and he had figured that his would have been kept safe in a secret place like this. As much as he wanted to read his mother's letter, he knew it'd be better if he saw himself out of the office first.
As he gathered his file and put it back in the drawer, his attention fell to Molly. "Wait..." he mumbled as he narrowed his eyes at the strange girl, "whaddaya want to get in for again?"