The couch feels oddly comfortable underneath you as you impatiently tap your foot on the hardwood floor, which seems to be shifting underneath you.

Every bone in your body feels restless and eventually, you stand up, storming to the fridge to get a drink.

When you first became trapped in The House of Mystery, you were terrified that you'd run out of food and water, but you quickly realised that The House replenishes itself. Which meant that you could live in it forever. Yaaay.

You have no idea why The House seems so hellbent on keeping you trapped inside it, especially since it already has a caretaker in the form of John Constantine. Who should be back by now, unless something horrible happened to him.

The chainsmoking magician is nothing short of annoying and cynical, but he's your only human interaction in this stupid House. In fact, given its size, it's more of a mansion with endlessly shifting hallways and rooms.

John had explained that The House of Mystery exists outside of Time and Space, in the area between Universes, and so visitors from all times and places could appear randomly. Not that it had happened in front of you though.

Exploring The House was out of the question, especially given its nasty tendency to drive people insane, and the rooms that seem to endlessly leaking blood.

You kick the wall of The House as hard as you can in frustration, and it responds by spraying you with water from the sink.

It's been... Months at this point. Months of not being able to leave this stupid magic mansion, months of doors being randomly locked and months of the only entertainment being most likely true stories of people suffering horrific fates. All the books on magic are locked to you, even though John takes great pleasure in teasing you by reading them right in front of you.

The front door clicks open, and John finally steps inside, tossing his cigarette onto the balcony of The House of Mystery, and earning a displeased rumble from The House.

"Hey, Love. Holding up well?"