The Deadly Ghost in their Midst
While Amber and Dan were capturing the quiet glow of their future in pregnancy photos, the "Blue Serene" machine was humming at full throttle. The resort was taking in more clients than had been planned and both the dairy and the two restaurants on property were extremely busy.
Sebastian had spent the last several days embedding himself into the rhythm of the staff, playing the part of the wealthy, inquisitive guest. He spent an unusual amount of time near the loading docks and the prep stations, often engaging Brandon, the dairy artisan, in long talks about the curdling process of the signature goat cheeses. But his real target was Calvin, Amber's head chef and the owner of the bed and breakfast-restaurant on the property.
Calvin had always been a man who lived for the "rush"—the heat, the noise, and the post-shift adrenaline. Late Tuesday night, as the last of the dinner service orders were cleared, Sebastian found him in the cool-down area, sipping a sparkling water and leaning against a stainless-steel prep table.
"She's a powerhouse, isn't she?" Calvin said, nodding toward the framed photo of Amber that hung in the hallway near the staff entrance. He let out a tired, gravelly chuckle. "I'll tell you, Sebastian, back when she first offered me the position here and the opportunity to have my own place across the lake… I had a massive crush. I used to think, if Dan Trace didn't want her, I'd be the one to step in. A woman like that needs someone who can handle the fire, you know? But they seem solid now. Still, a guy can dream." He took a sip of his water, never taking his eyes off the photo. "I will always be grateful to her for giving me a chance and allowing me to become the chef I always wanted to be.
Sebastian felt a cold, jagged spike of electricity shoot through his spine. To Calvin, it was just friendly conversation between acquaintances. To Sebastian, it was a foul contamination of the air. This man—this servant—had dared to look at Amber Ann with desire – and continued to do so. He had imagined himself in the sanctuary that Sebastian was building with his own heart and blood.
Sebastian didn't flinch. He simply forced a thin, tight smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Yes," he whispered, his voice like dry parchment. "She does seem to be rather extraordinary, Calvin."
Calvin frowned at Sebastian's tone but became distracted with a call from the main kitchens. He went on to finish his shift at Amber's restaurant and then a late shift at his own – covering for a sick employee.
Sebastian waited. He returned to Villa 4 and sat before his wall of monitors, he bided his time – watching the award winning chef leave Amber's restaurant and head to his own. His eyes tracked him as he walked briskly across the property. His figure leaving one monitor to eventually appear on another until he entered the B&B across the broad lake.
Sebastian seethed. Amber had helped this leach too much. He would protect her from the leeches of this world. He would make sure she was always safe.
He didn't take the Mercedes. He walked. He knew every camera's blind spot because he had mapped them himself. He entered the kitchen through the side delivery door, his movements silent and clinical.
Calvin was at the far end of the long prep table, his back turned as he the unique breakfast buffet for the next day. He never heard the footsteps. He never felt any true pain he only looked down with a frown as bright red bloomed across the stark white of his uniform. Sebastian had driven a paring knife—one of Calvin's own—into the soft tissue between Calvin's ribs.
Calvin touched, a wet, red and his frown deepened with confusion. Then the pain hit and he let out a shocked gasp, it was a rattling sound, as he slumped against the table. He turned, his eyes wide and glazed with shock as he looked to his side and saw his own knife there and no one else in the room.
Sebastian had retreated back to the door, just as quietly as he had entered. He watched the lecherous man fall to the floor with a soft thud, and narrowed his eyes in contempt.
"You shouldn't have talked about her that way," Sebastian said, his voice a low, melodic rasp. "You shouldn't have tried to use her. You will not hurt her, ever! I won't allow it."
As Calvin breathing slowed and his eyes closed, his body falling deep into shock, Sebastian moved with the speed of a harsh wind and reached out and took the Chef's hand. With a single, swift, and clinical movement, he took his "trophy"—a physical reminder that those who want to touch what belongs to the Architect must be shortened. He tucked the small, grisly prize into a silk sachet he already had prepared, his hands perfectly steady.
He left, a dark pool forming around Calvin. He wanted the chef dead. He wanted him to no longer think of his Amber. And he wanted his unable to ever harm her again.
It was only ten minutes later when a young prep cook, who had forgotten his phone, ran back into the kitchen. The lights were still bright but the air was filled with an odd metallic smell. The scream he let out echoed over the calm lake waters, signaling the end of the peace.
By the time the sirens were screaming toward the trauma center in Carson City, miles away in the Blue-Trace Security Hub, a monitor began to glow with a frantic, red strobe.
The technician on duty sat up, his fingers flying across the keys. "I've got a ping!"
On a digital world map, a spiderweb of glowing lines pulsed. A trail of data was jumping across the globe—Singapore, Sweden, New York—masking the true origin.
"It's the wire from the Sensory Room," the tech reported, his face pale under the fluorescent lights. "The location is… wait. We lost it. It's bouncing again. This time it's pinging a defunct server in London."
The Security Manager leaned over his shoulder, his eyes narrowed as he watched the red dot vanish into a maze of encrypted dummy leads. "He's mocking us," the manager whispered. "He's showing us the map, but he's hidden the destination. First he allows us to find an old library in Texas, now he gives us London. He truly is a slippery fish."