The door opened with a slow creak. Isabel stepped inside. The mansion was huge and quiet, almost too quiet. A big chandelier hung in the middle of the hall, giving off a soft light. It wasn't bright, but it wasn't dark either. The place felt… strange. Like someone was watching from the corners.
Isabel walked forward carefully. Her footsteps echoed in the empty space.
"Is anyone here?" she called.
No reply.
She tried again. "Hello?"
Still nothing.
She took a breath, ready to call once more—
"Miss Isabel."
She jumped and turned. A man stepped out from the shadows. The chandelier's light hit his blonde hair. He looked calm, serious, hard to read.
"Yes?" Isabel asked.
"You were expected tomorrow morning," he said. "My name is Isaac. I work in this house."
Isabel nodded. "Yes, I know… but the place I was staying asked me to leave today. So I came early."
Isaac looked at her for a moment, like he was thinking.
"I see," he said.
She held up her letter. "This is the address they sent me."
"Yes," Isaac said. "Your early arrival was… unexpected."
"If it's a problem, I can find a hotel," she said softly.
He shook his head. "No need. You're already here. This will be your home from now on. You must be tired. It's very late."
"…Thank you."
Isaac pointed to the stairs. "Follow me. I'll show you your room."
They walked up. The mansion felt endless — long hallways, high ceilings, quiet everywhere.
"I apologize," Isaac said. "The lord of the house can't meet you tonight. It's past midnight. Everyone is already asleep."
"That's fine," Isabel said. "I came unannounced."
Isaac nodded. "Stay close. People get lost here."
She followed. Then she suddenly stopped.
A huge, old door stood at the end of a side hallway. Older than the rest. Heavy. Worn.
Her chest tightened.
Why does this look familiar?
I've never been here…
Her hand lifted toward it without thinking. She caught herself and pulled back.
She turned—
"Isaac?"
He wasn't there.
Her stomach dropped.
"Isaac?" she said again.
No reply.
The chandelier flickered. Shadows seemed longer now. The air felt different — heavier, like something had noticed her.
She walked forward slowly. A faint warm light leaked from a half-open door.
She hurried toward it and pushed it open.
The room was empty.
"Hello?"
Nothing.
Her phone — she remembered — was in the vanity bag Isaac had taken. She felt uneasy.
Then she saw it. An old telephone on a desk in the corner. At least she could call someone.
She moved toward it.
Before she touched it, a deep voice snapped behind her:
"What are you doing?"
She spun too fast and stumbled. Strong hands grabbed her just for a second, stopping her from falling.
She looked up.
A man she didn't know stood in front of her. Short dark hair. Sharp blue eyes. All black clothes. He looked like someone you don't argue with.
A strange shiver ran through her chest. Not fear — something else.
"You should be careful," he said quietly.
"You scared me," Isabel said.
"This house isn't a place to wander at night."
"I was looking for the servant," she said. "Isaac. He brought me here."
The man's eyes narrowed just a little.
"Isaac," he repeated. "Yes. He works here."
Something in his tone felt… wrong.
"Then where is he?" Isabel asked.
"He's fine," the man said. His calm voice didn't help at all.
"I just wanted the phone," she said, touching the desk lightly.
"You won't need it," he replied.
She frowned. "But—"
"You're in the mansion now. If you need anything, it will be handled."
Handled? That made her uneasy.
"What if I want to leave?" Isabel asked.
He paused for a moment.
"Then wait until morning."
She looked at him carefully.
"Who are you?" she whispered.
He held her gaze. Then said quietly,
"You could say I take care of this town."
A chill went through her.
"I think I'm lost," Isabel said.
"No," he replied. "You're exactly where you should be."
Isabel forced a small nod, but her chest felt tight.Why did his words make her feel like she'd stepped into something she couldn't walk out of?
He turned. "Come."
He didn't explain anything. He just started walking.
Isabel blinked. "Wait—where are you going?"
He didn't answer. He kept moving, calm and steady, as if he already expected her to follow.
"Hey—wait," she said, hurrying after him.
She kept a little distance, unsure if she was supposed to be close or not, but she followed anyway.
"You were supposed to arrive tomorrow," he said.
"I know," she replied with a tired sigh.
"You made the right choice coming early," he added.
They stopped in front of a door. He opened it.
"This is your room."
Isabel stepped inside — and froze.
Her suitcase. Her bag. Everything was already there, perfectly arranged.
The man stood at the doorway.
"Breakfast is at seven," he said. "Come to the dining hall."
She opened her mouth to answer him—
"Good night, miss Isabel," he said quietly. Then he turned and walked away. His footsteps slowly faded into the silence of the mansion.
Isabel stayed there for a moment, staring at the empty hallway.
She finally closed the door. The room felt warm, almost comfortable. Too comfortable for a place she had never been before.
She leaned against the door and let out a long breath. Then she walked to the bed and sat down. Running her fingers through her hair, she whispered,
"Where… am I, really?"
The mansion stayed quiet, but something in the air felt heavy, like the house was hiding something.
Far from the mansion, a taxi drove down a narrow forest road. The headlights cut through the dark. The driver's hands were tight on the wheel. He kept glancing at the trees outside like he expected something to jump out.
He slowed down near an old phone booth and parked. Gravel crunched under his shoes as he stepped out. A black car waited nearby, engine off, windows dark.
The taxi driver walked over and got into the passenger seat of the black car. The man behind the wheel wore a hood, his face hidden.
"She's here," the taxi driver said. His voice was low, tense. It was the same driver Isabel had seen at the station earlier. For a brief second, something strange flickered in his eyes — like he remembered something he wished he didn't.
"Are you sure?" the hooded man asked. "You don't make mistakes."
"I'm sure," the driver snapped. "I just saw her two hours ago. Now give me my money."
The hooded man picked up a black bag and placed it between them. The driver grabbed it quickly, got out, and returned to his taxi. He started the engine.
Just then, a shadow moved past the headlights. A figure appeared beside his window.
The driver froze.
"No…" he whispered.
A few seconds later, the taxi exploded into flames. Fire swallowed the car, smoke rising into the sky.
The hooded man stood in front of the burning wreck, completely still. He took out a phone.
"She's in Vesper," he said. "At the mansion. Confirmed."
He lowered the phone.
The forest went silent again — but something had already started moving in the darkness.