DAY 2

​My name is Edmond Fisk and I am beginning to suspect that I am trapped in the Chambre.

There is neither night nor day in the Chambre, only sleep. Sometimes I tire and slumber, other times I am awake. And since there are no windows or doors, I can scarce recognize the passage of time. Does time even exist here? With no alternative, I shall measure my time here as though every sleep equals a new day.

So how did I come to be trapped in the Chambre?

Two months ago, while exploring an abandoned Parisian manor, I happened upon the painting, Dame de la Chambre, by Christian Toth. It was a small portrait of an enchantingly freckled woman. She wore her melancholia like she wore her lurid violet robe: proudly and defiantly. Never before had I found a painting that drew me in like a moth to flame. Her perfect cheeks, her auburn hair. I wished to lift her from sadness, though she was just a painting.

The portrait’s background was a dark-bricked chamber with golden glowing sconces, a writing desk, and a painting on the wall. This painting intrigued me. As I looked closer, I found it was indeed this very same portrait! Christian Toth had miraculously painted in miniature the Dame de la Chambre within the background of the real one, and even more impressively, another even smaller one within that! A painting within a painting within a painting. There was only one unmissable difference between them: the Dame de la Chambre in the background was upside-down. What an odd design choice. To better inspect the minute details of the inverted background painting, I turned the real one upside-down.
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It was then that I discovered Toth’s secret.