The cobblestone walk was hard beneath my bare feet. I knew this road; it was an old one leading out of town. Shabby Victorian buildings lined the way. Moss and ivy crawled up the faded pink wall of the house on my left. Was this the house Emers had been talking about? There was a sound of breaking glass; I turned my head towards it and in a few small steps, I was up on the broken porch.
“Ehh! What are you doing here! This is private!” The voice seemed to come from inside the house.
I was confused. This property was so dilapidated that nobody could be living here; the holes in the roof were as big as bomb craters.
“Excuse me? Who are you?” I called tentatively. “Emers sent me. Do you know him?” I opened the old oak door, which creaked ominously, like a bad horror movie. Well, this was certainly sketchy
Before I could even take a step inside, he appeared. “Did you say Emers?” He was old and wore a white lab coat made out of gears, which were covered in strange stains. He had goggles on his head, which pressed down his bushy, white hair. “Sorry for the harsh welcome,” he held out his hand, “My name is Dr. Hiram Myers.”
Run, run, run, was my initial thought. But I shook his hand anyway. Emers had mentioned Dr. Myers once. He was a brilliant inventor, but all of his inventions usually managed to blow up–which explained the holes in the roof. I was definitely going to need a Red Bull. “Can you help me with something?” I asked him. “Emers wanted me to get some kind of medallion here. I know that’s kind of a cliché. Creepy house, mad scientist, mysterious medallion–”
Dr. Myers waved his hand dismissively. “Emers is dead,” he said.