The rest of us followed Zara inside, with Levi bringing up the rear like always, looking like he'd rather face the storm than whatever was in here. His whole body was trembling, and not just from the cold.
The moment we stepped inside, the temperature difference hit me. Not warm, exactly, but definitely not freezing. I pulled out my phone and turned on the flashlight. The others did the same, and suddenly we had these small circles of light cutting through the darkness.
We were standing in a foyer—at least, I thought it was a foyer. Hard to tell how big it was when our phone lights only revealed glimpses. Marble floors polished to a mirror shine. Oil paintings in heavy frames. Furniture covered in white sheets that looked like ghosts in the LED light.
The sheets were pristine. Not a speck of dust.
When was the last time someone cleaned this place? I thought. Today? Yesterday?
"This place is massive," Priya whispered. Something about the darkness made all of us lower our voices automatically. "Look at the ceiling."
I aimed my light upward and immediately regretted it. The ceiling was so high I couldn't see where it ended, just shadows that seemed to shift at the edge of my flashlight beam.
"Look at this stuff," Sun said, her light hitting what looked like a grandfather clock. The clock's hands were moving, ticking softly in the silence. "This is all antique. Like, actual museum-quality stuff. Someone's definitely taking care of this place."
We moved deeper, staying close together. Our footsteps echoed weird on the marble, and every small sound seemed amplified. The air smelled old—not musty or rotten like you'd expect, but old in a way that made you think of libraries and expensive cologne. And underneath it, something sweet. Cinnamon, maybe.
"Check this out," Diego called softly, his light illuminating a sweeping staircase that curved up to the second floor. The bannister looked carved from a single piece of dark wood, and the steps were covered in deep red carpet that seemed to swallow our lights.
"We should stay on the ground floor," Kai said, and he actually sounded nervous. First time since we'd started this whole trip. "Just until the storm passes. We shouldn't explore."
"Agreed," I said, because something about those dark upper floors made my skin crawl.
We followed what seemed to be a main hallway, passing closed doors and more sheet-covered furniture. The walls were covered in paintings that our lights couldn't illuminate properly, but I caught glimpses of faces in ornate frames—old faces, stern faces, faces that seemed to follow our movement.
One painting made me stop. It was larger than the others, showing a man in old-fashioned clothes—Victorian era, maybe—standing in front of this mansion. The nameplate at the bottom read "Enoch" in tarnished brass letters.
Enoch, I thought. Is that who built this place?
"Guys," Levi's voice was barely a whisper behind us. "Maybe we should—"
"Holy shit," Zara interrupted, her light hitting something that made all of us freeze.
We'd turned a corner and suddenly everything was different. Instead of darkness and dust sheets, we were looking at a room that was fully lit with warm, golden light. Not electric light—the kind that came from oil lamps and candles, casting dancing shadows across walls lined with rich wallpaper.
And the room wasn't empty.
It looked like it had been pulled straight from a century ago. There was a gramophone in one corner, its brass horn gleaming, and I could hear it now—the music I'd thought I'd imagined earlier, scratchy jazz from the 1920s. Shelves lined the walls, filled with vinyl records in pristine condition. Dark wood furniture and deep leather chairs arranged around a fireplace where actual flames crackled and popped. A tea service was laid out on a side table, the pot steaming.
"The lights are on," Priya said, stating the obvious because what else could you say? "Someone's definitely living here."
That's when we saw her.
She was sitting in a high-backed armchair near the fireplace, and I have no idea how we missed her at first. Maybe our eyes needed time to adjust, or maybe she'd been sitting so still that she blended into the shadows.
She looked young—mid-twenties, maybe—and beautiful in an old-fashioned way, like she'd stepped out of a sepia photograph. But her clothes were wrong. All wrong. She wore what looked like a Victorian-style dress with delicate lace at the collar, but paired with a 1920s beaded necklace, and her hair was done up in victory rolls from the 1940s.
Her smile was too perfect. Too white. Too wide.
"Oh!" she said, standing gracefully when she noticed us. Her voice had this strange quality to it—formal, old-fashioned, like she was reading from a script written a hundred years ago. "Visitors! How absolutely delightful! I confess, I was not expecting company today."
We all froze. Here we were, seven soaking wet college kids who'd basically broken into her house, and she was acting delighted to see us. Not surprised. Not annoyed. Delighted.
Something's wrong, I thought. Something's really fucking wrong.
"We're terribly sorry," Kai started, slipping into his polite mode. "We got caught in the storm and the door was open. We didn't mean to intrude—"
"Nonsense!" She waved a hand dismissively. Her movements were too fluid, too graceful. "You poor dears must be absolutely frozen to the bone. Pray, allow me to prepare some tea to warm you. I have just put on a fresh pot."
Before any of us could respond, she practically glided over to the side table where the tea service was set up. Everything looked antique and expensive. Delicate porcelain cups with hand-painted flowers. A silver teapot already steaming.
"Really, we don't want to impose," Sun said, but the woman was already pouring tea into cups with practiced ease.
"It is no trouble whatsoever," the woman said, her back to us. "I so rarely receive company. Especially such young, vibrant company." She paused, and I swear her voice dropped an octave. "So full of life."
I saw Levi take a step back out of the corner of my eye.
We need to leave, I thought desperately. Right now. We need to leave right fucking now.
But where would we go? Outside? To the dark corridor? We had already broken into her house. Moving away from her would just make us look worse, like we were trying to rob her or something.
We just stood there as she turned around with a delicate cup and saucer in her hands, that too-perfect smile still plastered on her face.
"Here," she said, her eyes fixing on Kai. "You appear to be the leader of this little group. You must be quite exhausted from shepherding them through such terrible weather."
Kai hesitated for just a second, then stepped forward. Because that's what Kai did—he was polite, he followed social rules, even when everything screamed at you to run.
I was right behind him. Close enough to see the steam rising from the cup. Close enough to smell that cinnamon scent getting stronger.
"Thank you," Kai said, reaching for the cup, moving closer to her to take a seat. "That's very kind of—"
The woman's smile widened.
And then her mouth kept opening.
And opening.
Her jaw unhinged like a snake's, impossibly wide, revealing rows of teeth that weren't human—sharp, curved things designed for tearing, layer after layer spiraling back into a throat that seemed to go on forever.
Move, my brain screamed. MOVE!
But I couldn't.
The woman lunged forward with inhuman speed, and I watched—frozen and useless—as she buried those impossible teeth in Kai's throat. Blood sprayed everywhere in hot arterial arcs. I could hear the wet tearing sound of flesh ripping, the crack of bone, Kai's attempt to scream cutting off into a gurgle.
And then she was turning, her clawed hand swinging toward me, ripping through the air, until it was too late—
The claws hit my chest like a freight train.
I felt them punch through my ribs, felt them tear something vital. My heart. My fucking heart.
At first, blind, hot searing pain flashed through my entire being, threatening to pull me under.
And then, almost as quickly as it started, there was no pain. Her cold claws ripped into me.
I tried to breathe but nothing worked. Tried to move but my body wouldn't respond. I was falling, the world tilting sideways, and I could see Kai's body on the floor, blood pooling around him, and I thought—
I should have said something. I should have—
The room was getting darker. Or maybe my vision was just fading. I could hear screaming—Sun, maybe, or Zara—but it sounded so far away.
I'm dying, I realized with perfect clarity. I'm actually dying and I never did anything. Ha. At least I didn't have to do it myself.
The cold spread from my chest outward, creeping through my arms, my legs, my neck. My vision narrowed to a pinpoint.
I could feel myself falling forward, probably to become this monster's meal.
And then there was nothing.
Just black.