Author's Note: I've never wrote an Ib fanfiction before so I hope this isn't too bad. Please be thoughtful. I always thought the idea of Ib being the adult and Garry the child intriguing.


Ib stared at the sculpture before her. The pale colors of the rainbow blended in well and made the piece easy on the eyes. She glanced at the sculpture's name. "Taste-Cleansing Tree". Huh. Interesting enough. The artist Guertena must have had some imagination.

Ib sighed and began walking away from the colorful sculpture. Her parents had sent her a letter telling her she should relax and take a trip to the local art museum. They had said that the eighteen year old was going to stress herself out if she continued working on her college reports continuously over the summer.

Ib decided to humor her parents and visit the museum. Overall the experience seemed to be a waste of her time. The artwork was mostly abstract and to someone like her just seemed altogether pointless.

She was currently strolling around the upstairs wandering aimlessly, awaiting something to catch her eye.

She turned a corner and saw no one in sight. All that appeared to be present was a large painting with a plaque reading "Fabricated World." From what she could tell, it was even more abstract then the other pieces of Guertena's work. That was a somewhat of a surprise to the young adult. She didn't know there could be even more abstract work. She tried to take in the painting. It was mostly random blotches of color that seemed to be put down without a care. In the far left corner there seemed to be a rose. On the right of the painting there appeared to be… a childish reproduction of another of Guertena's paintings? Ib seemed to recall the name of the painting being called the "Lady in Red." There was a man that rambled on to her about the woman in the painting before she quietly slipped away.

All of a sudden, the lights flickered in and out. The quiet chatter that had floated through the halls previously silenced. Ib quickly walked back the way she came and saw all of the people that had previously been loitering in the halls had vanished. She began walking and looking around. The lights flickered once more before going out completely.

Ib would be lying if she said that she wasn't mentally freaking out. It wouldn't be as bad if she hadn't heard loud footsteps pounding through the museum. Ib rounded the corner again and found herself back at the painting "Fabricated World." She noticed blue paint dripping from the painting near the left of the plaque.

As she looked closer she saw the paint was actually words.

"come down below ib ill show you someplace secret"

Thoroughly creeped out, Ib began backing away into the wall on the opposite side.

Then, red letters began appearing on the floor.

Together, the spelled out "COME IB."

Ib was shaking. She wouldn't admit it, but she was beyond terrified. What was happening? Where did everyone go? None of this was logically possible.

Ib once again began walking back the way she came, hoping to escape through the front door.

As she walked passed a painting named "Your Dark Figure" that depicted a black cat, she heard a clear "Meow." Ib jumped and began walking faster. She turned a corner and passed the sculpture "Taste-Cleansing Tree" once more. She averted her eyes from the vibrant sculpture in the dark hallway and kept speeding down the hall. She walked passed more small paintings and was frightened once more when she passed the painting "Bitter Fruit" and the orange seemed to fall out of the painting and smash onto the museum floor.

Ib shook her head and remembered there were footsteps ringing out through the halls. She had to get out. She didn't even want to remember the message in paint sent to her. As she neared the stairs, she was sure she saw a silhouette pass on the other side of the window. Ib paused. She was on the second floor. It wasn't possible. She peered through the window and didn't see anything. It didn't seem locked but no matter how hard she pried on the window it just would not budge. She began to walk away from the window and she heard something pounding on it. She immediately turned around and saw a handprint on the window. She was sure it wasn't there before. Ib gulped and began going down the stairs as fast as she could.

Once she was down the stairs she noticed the elderly man wasn't behind the receptionist's desk. She inhaled a deep breath and shook her head. She had to keep cool. She was an adult now. Not a scared little child. The doorway was right in front of her.

Ib sighed in relief before running straight for the entrance and pushing on the door. But to her surprise and horror, it would not budge at all. Ib's eyes grew wide and her hands shook. Fearfully, she pushed on the door harder than necessary. Again and again, she tried and failed to open the locked door. Ib's jaw locked and her eyes watered. It wasn't possible. She wasn't trapped. She closed her eyes and let out a long breath. She needed to find her resolve. She had to keep calm.

There must be another way out. There had to be. Ib quickly scanned the entranceway and her eyes immediately settled upon the windows. She sped over the windows as fast as her feet could carry her. The first one didn't seem locked but wouldn't open at all. She let out a sigh of frustration. No matter, there was another.

She walked over to the window's twin with a gut feeling it wouldn't open but with a heart filled with false hope. She tried opening it but it wouldn't open either. Red liquid rained down the window from outside. Ib leapt back in fright. Her mind first went to blood but as she looked closer it seemed too thick to be blood. Paint…?

Ib shook her head again. This was getting crazy. She decided to see if there was any exit on the lower level of the museum.

As she walked through the gallery she was disturbed a bit from the painting on the floor entitled "Abyss of the Deep." The painting of the football fish frightened her with its gaping mouth ready to devour any unfortunate fish it attracted with its light.

Ib walked down the hall to the south and was shocked once more when a painting entitled "The Coughing Man" literally coughed. Ib shivered before moving on. No other piece of artwork made any noise or moved but Ib did not happen upon any exit like she had hoped. Before she knew it, she was back where she had started with the painting of the football fish.

However, this time, some of the poles were missing and footsteps seemed to be walking into the painting. Being the curious soul she was, Ib decided she would take a closer look. When she was close to the painting she bent down to see it more clearly. Ib let a tentative hand reach out towards the painting and, with horror, she noticed her hand go through the painting and feeling as if her hand was dipped into water. Terrified, Ib tried to take her hand back out but found that the task was impossible. And what was worse, it felt as if the painting was pulling her in. And before Ib knew it, she was falling.


End Note: I guess I should end it here. This was really fun to write but I know this won't be too exciting for the readers. I'll try to get out the next chapter as soon as I can. And if we're lucky, little Garry will appear in the next chapter. But probably, he'll appear in chapter three. Sorry guys. Please review! The more reviews, the more motivated to write I am.