Emma thought the drive to the Blackwood Chateau was longer than she remembered, but it was only a few miles from the center of Maplewood. The narrow street wound through dense woods, where tall trees provided long shady areas that moved in the headlights of the vehicle's emissions lights.
She fell deeper into the evening, and as she did so, it became more and more difficult to make out the outside world, leaving only the distant thunder and whispers of the breeze. Her car's tires murmured as they turned over the wet blacktop, and the street was smooth from the previous downpour.
As quick as the car, Emma's mind raced. Why, and who had called her? What were they expecting her to find at the house? She had read accounts of people wandering there only to return with tales of strange noises, eerie specters, and a mind-boggling sense of fear. Most pardoned them as stories—close by legends expected to battle thrill seekers off.
However, Emma was unable to shake the feeling that there was more to it than that. The house emerged suddenly, rising from the lack of clarity like a memorable, neglected sentinel.
As she made her way toward the iron gate, which was open and squeaking slightly in the breeze, Emma eased the car back. Weeds and remnants of what must have once been a wonderful nursery filled the carport. At this point, all that was left were tangled plants and crumbling stone sculptures whose highlights had been worn away over time.
Emma left her vehicle near the section, deferring a tiny smidgen prior to turning off the engine. She sat quietly and stared at the chateau's outline as it approached against the stormy sky. It was a huge structure with three stories of tall turrets that stood out like sharp teeth. The house looked empty and deserted because of the dull windows, many of which were blocked or broken.
However, despite its shabby state, there was something unquestionably glorious about it—a waiting echo of its former splendor. Emma took a deep breath, pulled her electric lamp out of the glove box, and got out of the car.
The air was colder here, chewing through her coat as she walked around the front doorway. The breeze hollered through the trees, and the fundamental drops of one more rainstorm began to fall, tapping against the stone advances that incited the passage.
The entryway was enormous, made of dark wood, and it had mind-boggling designs that were barely visible now that it was covered in dirt and grime. When Emma connected, she tried the handle and was surprised when it turned into her hand.
With a loud squeak, the door opened to reveal the gaping haze from before. With her heart beating, Emma wavered at the edge. She could immediately turn around, get in her car, and drive home. She realized, however, that she wouldn't.
She had to find out what was inside and what exclusive insights this manor actually contained. She wandered into the entryway, her steps resounding off the marble floor. It appeared as though the house had been isolated from the outside world for much longer than just a few years, as the air inside was thick with dust and had the odor of decay.
The light discharge electric light cut through the dinkiness, revealing the incredible stairway that twisted up to the ensuing floor. Old images were hung on the walls, and as she moved further into the house, it appeared that their eyes were following her.
Emma moved slowly, her faculties alert. The harsh silence was broken only by occasional drops of water from a leaky roof or the distant groan of the house settling. Focusing her light upward into the darkness above, she stopped at the foundation of the staircase.
She could make out the shaky outline of a light fixture that was dangling awkwardly from the roof, its precious stones being dull and covered in webs of spiders. In the quiet, the wood squeaked as she climbed the steps, making an unsettlingly boisterous sound. She felt like the house was watching her, clutching her to see what she would do immediately. She stopped and tuned in when she got to the arrival, but all she could hear was distant, roaring thunder outside.
Emma turned to one side and followed a long hall with doors leading to rooms. The majority were closed, but one was slightly partially open, letting light into the hallway. She moved closer, her pulse invigorating. She pushed the door open with her foot, revealing what should have been a library. The door squeaked. There were floor-to-ceiling shelves of dusty old books, and the room was huge.
One wall was dominated by a huge chimney. Its hearth was cold and filled with the ashes of fires that had been put out years ago. In the point of convergence of the room stood a significant wooden workspace, papers thrown across, perhaps someone had left in a hurry.
As Emma entered the room, the bar was unstable as she cleared it across the room, and her spotlight shone. Her look was drawn to the uttermost corner, where something shimmered in the weak light. She got closer and sat down to get a better look. The silver surface had aged and was a keepsake.
After grabbing it, Emma removed the soil that was clinging to it with her fingers. She found a tiny, blurry picture inside the memento, which had the initials "E.B." engraved on it as she pry it open. Emma's breath caught in her throat as she saw the picture, which featured a young woman whose delicate and natural features stood out.
She tried to recall where she had previously seen that face as she looked at the image. She froze unexpectedly when she heard something behind her. It was a fragile blending, like the sound of surface brushing against wood. With her electric lamp pointing in the direction of the entryway, Emma quickly turned.
She had a stronger sense than at any time in recent memory that she was in good company despite the empty passageway.
"Who are they?" She called out, her voice barely shaking. The silence gathered around her without any response. She stood slowly and looked around the room for any signs of change with her eyes. She was thinking of pranks, and the shadows appeared to move and falter.
She heard it again at that point, but this time it was a gentle rumbling outside the entryway. Emma took a step back, her heart racing. As she tried to gather her thoughts, she mishandled the memento and shoved it into her jacket pocket.
She had to go, but her instincts told her that something or someone was waiting for her in the hallway. Her electric lamp was held out in front of her as if it were a weapon as she took a deep breath and moved toward the doorway. She stopped to listen as she entered the passageway.
Although the rain had reached outside and was pounding on the windows, there was no sound inside the house. When a figure emerged from the shadows toward the corridor's end, Emma made a hasty dash for the stairs. She wheezed, and the electric lamp fell to the ground after she released it from her grasp.
She was briefly too dazed to even consider moving when she saw the tall figure with the long coat.
"Who Are You?" Emma mastered stammering, her voice barely audible above the murmur.
The man's face was partially obscured by the edge of his cap as the figure moved forward in the hazy light from her fallen spotlight. He was young, probably in his mid-30s, with sharp features and blue eyes that seemed to see right through her.
"I'm assuming Emma Harris?" As if they were meeting in a completely normal setting, his voice was quiet and almost amused. Emma took a big gulp and held on until she felt the entryway's edge against her back.
"How are you aware of my name?"
The man smiled, but it did not reach his eyes. "Emma, I know a lot about you. However, the fact that we really want to leave is what matters right now.
You're not kidding." Emma's mind raced. "What kind of danger?"
"There is no way to make sense of it. We have to leave right now." He got closer and extended a hand toward her. "Trust me." Emma was late.
She was yelled at to flee and get as far away from the house and this more intriguing thing as she could. However, she waited because of the force in his gaze and his earnestness. Whoever he was, he didn't give off an impression of being a risk—basically, not to her. Reluctantly, she got a handle on his hand, and he pulled her out of the library and down the passage.
They moved quickly, his grasp being firm but not brutal as he pointed her back toward the stairs. The manor seemed to squeak around them as they slid, with the walls squeaking, and the flooring sections fighting under their feet. The man opened the front door when they got there and let in some cool night air, which was almost a relief from the oppressive heat inside. Emma looked back at the chateau, which was currently just a dull diagram against the blustery sky, as they ventured outside onto the patio.
They were both completely submerged in the torrential downpour as it intensified. "Who do you mean?" As they rushed toward her vehicle, Emma raised her voice in the wind to ask once more. The man did not respond right away. He opened the door for the traveler and gave her a signal to enter. At the point when she was inside, he walked around to the driver's side, opened the entrance, and slid in near her. He ran his hand through his damp hair as he took off his cap.
He finally said, "I am Lucas," aiming to meet her gaze. "Also, we probably won't survive here if we don't leave right now." Emma tried to deal with everything that had happened thus far as she focused on him.
The bewildering call, the chateau, the memento, and now this outsider, Lucas, who seemed to know a lot more than he was letting on. "What's going on?" With a mix of dread and dissatisfaction, she asked, her voice shaking. "Why did you bring me here in the first place?"
Lucas groaned, and his face slightly changed. Emma, I didn't bring you here. However, someone else did, and whoever it is, they're playing a hazardous game. I'm here to help you escape the center before it reaches the point of no return because you're trapped there.
Emma didn't know whether or not to trust him, but she knew one thing beyond a shadow of a doubt: the night was not even close to being done, and the insider realities of the Blackwood house were just beginning to reveal themselves.
Lucas started the car without saying anything else, and they hurried out of the house, abandoning the frightening silence and dimness that seemed to cling to the location like a shadow. Regardless, Emma couldn't shake the feeling that this was just the beginning of a night that would forever alter her life as they drove off.