The Inn Beyond Time and Space

The girl in the painting, who called herself Eileen, and Adrian Wells outside the frame locked eyes in a tense standoff. So far, neither of them had managed to establish even the slightest shred of trust.

Adrian had no way of verifying whether this so-called "cursed artifact" was telling the truth about anything—whether it was the "House of Alice" she mentioned or her claim of being sealed inside the painting. It was all new to him, and when Eileen said she didn't know why she had ended up in this house, Adrian didn't believe a word of it.

On the other hand, Eileen was convinced Adrian still had plans to torch her with that lighter. Her crimson eyes remained fixated on every slight movement of his hand.

"I still think you're the one who brought this painting home and hung it here, only to forget about it," Eileen said, repeating her theory. "You humans are always collecting strange things, bringing them home to gather dust."

Adrian felt a flicker of guilt at her words. After all, he couldn't be entirely sure where everything in this house had come from. He had only been "here" for two months, and he was barely familiar with this world—let alone himself. Who knew what state this house or its previous owner had been in before?

Could there have been another "Adrian" before him?

These thoughts flitted briefly through his mind before vanishing. Under Eileen's crimson gaze, Adrian instinctively shook his head and replied, "That's impossible. This painting looks expensive, and there's no way I could afford something like this."

"Ha! What if it was dirt cheap?" Eileen scooted forward, hugging her stuffed bear. "There's so much fake junk on the market these days—fake vases, fake calligraphy, fake paintings. Maybe the previous owner got me in bulk from some counterfeit dealer for two fifty a kilo, along with a batch of other cheap stuff. Or maybe the middleman didn't recognize my worth."

Adrian gave her an odd look. "Your frame alone is solid wood with gold inlays along the edges."

Eileen thought for a moment. "Redwood veneer filled with resin! And the gold? Just copper wires plated with brass!"

Adrian: … "That already costs more than two fifty a kilo."

"Okay, fine. Four fifty then. Can't go higher—no one would buy me otherwise."

Adrian: "…"

Eileen blinked her crimson eyes. "Hey, why aren't you saying anything?"

Adrian squatted down in front of the painting and suddenly felt a wave of amusement wash over him. Then he couldn't help but laugh. Sitting back on the floor, he leaned against the wall, his laughter spilling out until half his body tilted back.

Never in his life had he imagined such a moment: sitting in an empty room, debating with a doll sealed inside a painting about whether her frame was worth two fifty or four fifty a kilo as a counterfeit antique.

And just a short while ago, he'd had his heart ripped out by a giant frog conjured from freezing rain.

All of this was just too absurd.

Eileen, however, was startled by Adrian's sudden outburst of laughter. From her place on the floor, where her painting had been set down, she could see the bare ceiling above and hear his laughter echoing around the room. Nervously, she started to protest.

"Hey! Stop laughing! What's so funny about this?"

Adrian slowly calmed down, scooting closer to the painting with a more serious expression. "That strange dream I had earlier—was that your doing?"

He was referring to the dream where he'd been using an axe to hack at a locked door, only to hear mocking laughter from the other side. Now, it seemed clear that the bizarre dream was somehow connected to this girl in the painting.

Oh, and his back still hurt from that dream.

"It wasn't me!" Eileen shook her head immediately but then hesitated, her expression turning uncertain. "Well… not entirely."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Adrian frowned. "Can't you just say it straight?"

"The dream was yours," Eileen explained patiently. "But I did… enter it. I sensed someone dreaming and thought I could use it as a way to ask for help. I wasn't trying to cause trouble! I had no idea you couldn't open that door—and then you lost your temper and started chopping at it with an axe…"

Listening to her rambling, Adrian gradually pieced it together. "So you didn't lock the door, and you didn't induce the dream either. You just… have the ability to enter dreams?"

"Exactly! And that's not all I can do," Eileen said with a hint of pride. But her face quickly fell. "But since I've been sealed in this painting, most of my abilities are gone. That's about all I can manage now."

Adrian was skeptical of her claims, but he couldn't deny that her explanation added new layers of intrigue to the strange dream.

He had a second question: "You said you were trying to find someone to help you. What kind of help?"

"Help getting me out of here, of course!" Eileen said matter-of-factly. "Out of this painting, ideally. But at the very least, get me out of this room. It's so empty—there's nothing in here! If you could just hang me in front of a TV, that would already be an improvement. Voice-activated would be even better. I'm not great with remote controls, but there's a brand I like…"

Adrian quickly realized that Eileen had the kind of personality that could spiral off on tangents if left unchecked.

So he interrupted her without hesitation. "If you're asking for help, why were you laughing? What about the mocking voice I heard when I was trying to open the door?"

"That wasn't me!" Eileen waved her hands frantically and then thrust her stuffed bear toward him. "It was this guy laughing!"

Adrian stared at her, expressionless. His gaze clearly said, Do I look like an idiot to you?

"It's true!" Eileen looked genuinely flustered, shaking the stuffed bear in her hands. "He was sealed in this painting with me! But I think being here for so long has left his mind… less sharp. All he does now is laugh at random times. Sometimes I poke him and he laughs, but sometimes he just starts laughing on his own. He's startled me more times than I can count!"

Adrian kept a straight face as Eileen continued to explain. Seeing the sincerity in her expression, he began to waver slightly. His eyes finally fell on the stuffed bear, and after a moment of hesitation, he nodded.

"Make it laugh," he said. "Let me hear it."

Eileen immediately poked the bear on the head.

Nothing.

She blinked, then jabbed the bear harder. Still nothing. Her expression turned increasingly distraught, her eyes almost tearing up.

"S-Sometimes it doesn't work when I poke it," she stammered. "Sometimes it just doesn't laugh…"

Adrian's mouth twitched.

"So sometimes it laughs when you poke it, sometimes it doesn't. Sometimes it laughs without being poked, sometimes it doesn't. So does your poking have anything to do with whether it laughs or not?"

Eileen blinked, thought for a moment, and nodded slowly. "You're… probably right."

Adrian sighed. He decided not to waste any more time on this peculiar cursed painting for now.

His stomach rumbled loudly, reminding him that he'd skipped dinner after coming home and falling asleep. Smiling wryly, he shook his head and stood up.

"You're leaving?" Eileen asked, her voice panicked. "You're not just going to leave me on the floor, are you? At least hang me back on the wall! The ceiling is so boring to look at…"

Adrian bent down, grumbling as he picked up the painting, grimacing as his back protested.

"I'm taking you to the living room," he said. "So stop complaining."

Eileen immediately brightened, hugging her bear as she settled back into her chair. "Oh, good! You're nicer than I thought. So, what's for dinner tonight?"

Adrian glanced at her. "Can you even eat?"

"I can watch!"

Adrian couldn't believe he was still entertaining this absurd conversation. With a resigned sigh, he carried the heavy painting toward the stairs.

"Hey, your house is pretty big! I didn't realize there was so much outside that room!"

"What's that room over there? Is it your bedroom? Oh, do you live alone? Should I introduce myself if there's someone else? Would they be scared of me? People don't usually see talking dolls, do they?"

"What's your name, by the way? Adrian? That's a weird name… Not like sashimi, right?"

"What happened to your back? Did you throw it out? You humans really need to take care of your joints. They're so fragile, and you can't just replace them—hey, why are you glaring at me? Your expression is scary…"

Adrian finally reached the top of the staircase and looked down at the steps. On a normal day, he wouldn't think twice about them. But with his injured back and the heavy painting in hand, the stairs now looked daunting.

He paused, quietly contemplating his next move.

Eileen seemed to sense his hesitation. Her chatter slowed, and her expression turned nervous.

Adrian glanced down at her. "Eileen."

The doll stiffened. "Y-Yes?"

"Your frame looks pretty sturdy."

"Y-Yeah…?"

Without another word, Adrian placed the painting at the top of the stairs.

"This might be a little bumpy. Hold on tight."

Eileen's crimson eyes widened in horror. "Wait—don't—"

"Off you go!"

The painting slid down the staircase with a series of loud thuds and bangs, accompanied by Eileen's increasingly dramatic protests:

"Adrian, you jerk! You—AHHH! OH MY—WHAT THE—AHHH—"