The heavy iron gates of Blackwood Manor didn’t just creak; they groaned with the weight of a century’s worth of rust and secrets. It was a humid afternoon in Savannah, Georgia, the kind where the air feels like a damp wool blanket, but for the five men standing in the driveway, it felt like the start of an empire.

"I’m just saying, if I trip on these uneven cobblestones and break my face, my modeling career is over before it starts," Lucian Kane said, dramatically stumbling over a loose brick while hauling a crate of protein powder.

Ethan Vale, leading the pack with a set of skeleton keys that looked like they belonged to a dungeon, laughed over his shoulder. "Lucian, your 'modeling career' consists of taking shirtless selfies in the gym mirror. I think the world will survive."

"It’s about the aesthetic, Ethan! The brand!" Lucian countered, though he was grinning.

Behind them, Daniel Virex was struggling with a massive mahogany dresser. He was the powerhouse of the group, a guy with broad shoulders and a heart that was arguably too soft for his own good. His boyfriend, Asher Kingsley, was currently "helping" by holding a single designer floor lamp and giving directions like a frantic orchestral conductor.

"Pivot, Dan! Pivot! If you scratch that wood, I will actually weep," Asher cried out, his eyes wide behind his fashionable clear-framed glasses.

Daniel stopped, resting the weight of the dresser against his thigh, and looked at Asher with an amused, tired expression. "Ash, honey, sweetheart... if you say 'pivot' one more time, I’m going to set this dresser down on your very expensive Italian loafers."

Asher pouted, stepping closer and fluttering his eyelashes. "You wouldn't. You love these loafers. You told me they made my ankles look 'slay'."

"I said they looked okay, not slay," Daniel muttered, but he couldn't keep the smile off his face. He leaned in, ignoring the sweat dripping down his forehead, and planted a quick, firm kiss on Asher’s nose. "Go inside and find where the kitchen is. Leave the heavy lifting to the peasants."

"My hero," Asher chirped, blowing him a kiss before spinning around and jogging toward the massive Victorian porch.

Edward Jones, the final member of the group, was already at the door, meticulously checking the doorframe for termites and dry rot. Ed was the brains, the pre-med student who viewed the world as a series of systems that needed to be maintained. "The structural integrity of the wraparound porch is actually surprisingly high for a house built in 1892," he noted, pushing his glasses up his nose.

"Great, Ed. Remind me to thank the ghosts for keeping the wood rot away," Ethan joked, finally shoving the heavy oak front door open.

The interior of the house was a dream of dark wood, stained glass, and high ceilings that disappeared into shadow. The foyer was grand, with a sweeping staircase that curved like a spine up to the second and third floors. It smelled of old books, lavender, and the faint, lingering scent of expensive cigars from a bygone era.

"Oh, this is definitely haunted," Lucian said, his voice echoing in the vast space. He dropped his crate and immediately started testing the echoes by making weird clicking noises with his tongue. "Hello? Any Victorian orphans want to play? I have snacks!"

"Ignore him," Ethan said, walking into the center of the room and spinning around. "Guys, look at this place. We got this for a steal. The landlord said nobody had lived here for ten years because it’s 'too far from the city center,' but it’s only a twenty-minute bike ride to campus."

Asher was already running his fingers along the velvet wallpaper in the dining room. "The lighting in here is going to be incredible for our Friday night dinners. We can be so sophisticated. We’ll drink wine out of real glasses instead of red solo cups."

"I’m still drinking out of solo cups," Lucian yelled from the kitchen. "I don't trust myself with glass. I’m a high-velocity human."

Daniel finally made it inside with the dresser, huffing as he set it down near the stairs. Asher was instantly by his side, rubbing Daniel's shoulders and leaning his head against his arm. "You did so good, big guy. Do you want me to get you some water? Or perhaps a nap? I can offer a very high-quality cuddle session in our new room."

Daniel looked down at him, his expression softening instantly. The two of them had been together for two years, surviving the cramped quarters of a shared dorm room and the stress of finals week. This house was their first real chance at having a space that felt like theirs. "A cuddle sounds better than water," Daniel whispered, pulling Asher into a proper hug.

Asher wrapped his arms around Daniel’s neck, standing on his tiptoes to bury his face in the crook of Daniel’s neck. "I’m so happy we’re here. Just us. Well... us and the three stooges."

"Hey! I am not a stooge!" Ethan shouted from the parlor. "I am the landlord-negotiator! I am the visionary!"

"You're a stooge with a lease!" Asher shouted back, laughing.

The afternoon turned into a chaotic blur of moving furniture and loud music. They blasted a playlist of upbeat pop and classic rock that felt hilariously out of place in the gothic setting of the manor. Lucian and Ethan turned the process of moving the sofa into a wrestling match, which ended with both of them tangled in the cushions on the floor, gasping for breath from laughing too hard.

Ed was the only one who stayed focused, labeling every cabinet in the kitchen with a label maker he’d brought in his backpack. "If I find a protein shaker in the cabinet meant for glassware, there will be a formal hearing," he warned, though the corners of his mouth were twitching.

As the sun began to set, the house took on a different glow. The orange light of the Savannah sunset bled through the stained glass, painting long, distorted streaks of crimson and violet across the floorboards. It was beautiful, but the shadows in the corners seemed to grow thicker, heavier than normal shadows should be.

"Check this out!" Asher called from the top of the stairs. He was standing on the landing, silhouetted against a massive circular window. "The view of the garden is insane! It looks like a jungle back there."

Daniel joined him, wrapping an arm around Asher’s waist and pulling him close. The backyard was overgrown with weeping willows and thick ivy that climbed the stone walls. It was private and silent. "It’s perfect, Ash. We can put a hammock out there."

"And a fire pit," Asher added, leaning his head on Daniel's shoulder. "We can sit out there at night and look at the stars. No city lights to ruin it."

Downstairs, the sound of a champagne cork popping echoed through the house. "To Blackwood Manor!" Ethan yelled.

They all gathered in the kitchen, leaning against the marble countertops that were cool to the touch despite the heat. Ethan poured cheap sparkling wine into mismatched mugs.

"To the best year of our lives," Ethan said, raising his mug. "No more RAs, no more library lockdowns, and no more living in separate buildings. We’re the kings of this castle."

"To the kings!" Lucian cheered, clinking his mug against Ed’s.

"To us," Daniel said softly, looking only at Asher.

Asher beamed, clicking his mug against Daniel’s with a delicate clink. "To us."

They spent the evening ordered pizza and sitting on the floor of the living room, the only furniture being a few stray beanbags and a half-assembled coffee table. They talked about their dreams for the semester—Ethan’s plan to lead the debate team to nationals, Lucian’s hope to finally get a viral TikTok, and Ed’s obsession with topping his class.

But mostly, the conversation was filled with the kind of comfortable insults and inside jokes that only come from years of deep friendship. They teased Daniel about his "dad vibes" and Asher about his "main character syndrome." It was light, it was happy, and it was full of the vibrant energy of youth.

"Wait, did you guys hear that?" Ed asked suddenly, tilting his head.

The room went silent. The only sound was the hum of the old refrigerator and the distant chirp of crickets outside.

"Hear what, Ed? The sound of your social life dying?" Lucian asked, stuffing a piece of pepperoni into his mouth.

"No, like... a clicking sound. Near the front door," Ed said, standing up and walking toward the foyer.

The others followed him, curious. They stood in the dark hallway, looking at the heavy front door. Outside, the moon had risen, casting a pale, silver light through the windows. The front gate, which they had left wide open to move the last of the boxes, was now shut.

"Must have been the wind," Ethan said, though there wasn't a leaf stirring on the trees outside. "The hinges are probably just heavy."

"I'll go lock it," Daniel volunteered, stepping toward the door. He turned the heavy brass deadbolt, the sound unnervingly loud in the quiet house. "There. We’re tucked in for the night."

Asher grabbed Daniel’s hand, his fingers interlaced with his boyfriend’s. "Let’s go to bed, Dan. I’m exhausted, and I want to test out how loud the floorboards are in our room."

"Asher!" Ed groaned. "Walls are thin, remember?"

"Not in a house this big!" Asher laughed, pulling Daniel toward the stairs.

As they climbed the stairs, the five friends were full of hope and the thrill of independence. They didn't notice that the shadows in the foyer didn't move when they carried their candles past. They didn't notice that the temperature in the hallway dropped ten degrees the moment they reached the second floor.

And they certainly didn't notice that the front gate hadn't just blown shut—it had fused into the stone pillars, as if the iron and the rock had become one.

They were in. And for now, the house was happy to let them stay. It would be a few days before they tried to leave. It would be a few days before they realized that the road leading away from Blackwood Manor only ever led back to the front door.

But for tonight, there was only laughter, the smell of new beginnings, and the warmth of two people in love, falling asleep in each other's arms in the heart of a Victorian dream.

The second morning in Savannah broke with a golden, honey-thick light that spilled across the mahogany floors of the master suite. Daniel woke up first, the heavy silence of the old house feeling like a luxury compared to the constant sirens and shouting of their old campus apartment. Beside him, Asher was a tangled mess of silk sheets and messy blonde hair, snoring softly with his face pressed into Daniel’s bicep.

Daniel didn’t move for a long time. He just watched the way the light caught the dust motes dancing in the air. He felt a profound sense of peace. He leaned over, pressing a soft kiss to Asher’s forehead. "Wake up, sunshine. We have a kitchen to organize and a deck to reclaim from the weeds."

Asher groaned, pulling the duvet over his head. "No. The house is too comfortable. I’ve become one with the mattress. Go away, peasant."

"The peasant is going to go make coffee," Daniel whispered, nipping at Asher’s ear. "But if I have to drink it alone, I might just invite Lucian to join me."

Asher’s head popped out from under the covers instantly, his eyes narrowed in a playful glare. "You wouldn't dare. Lucian talks about his 'gains' for forty minutes straight before 9:00 AM. I’m getting up, I’m getting up!"

Downstairs, the house was already humming with the energy of thre young men. Ethan was in the kitchen, miraculously having found the coffee maker in one of the fifty unmarked boxes. He was humming a jazz tune, leaning against the counter in a pair of pajama pants.

"Morning, lovebirds!" Ethan chirped as Daniel and Asher wandered in, Asher still rubbing sleep from his eyes and clinging to the back of Daniel’s t-shirt. "Sleep well? Or did the Victorian ghosts keep you up with their rattling chains?"

"The only rattling was Ed’s snoring from across the hall," Asher muttered, sliding into a chair at the heavy wooden breakfast table. "It sounded like a lawnmower with an identity crisis."

Ed, who was already fully dressed and reading a thick medical textbook while eating a bowl of plain oatmeal, didn't even look up. "My snoring is a sign of deep, restorative REM sleep, Asher. You should try it instead of staying up until 3:00 AM looking at vintage rugs on your phone."

"I was curate-ing!" Asher defended himself. "This house has a soul, Ed. It needs the right textiles."

Lucian burst into the room then, shirtless and glistening with sweat, having clearly just finished a workout in the empty parlor. "Guys, the acoustics in that front room are insane! I was doing my jumping jacks and I swear it sounded like a stadium. Also, I think I found a hidden door behind the bookshelf."

The group went still. Ethan paused with the coffee pot mid-pour. "A hidden door? Like, Narnia hidden, or 'this house is a fire hazard' hidden?"

"Let’s go see," Ethan said, his inner adventurer taking over.

They followed Lucian into the parlor, a room filled with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves that were mostly empty. Lucian pointed to a section of wood paneling near the fireplace. There was a faint, vertical line in the wood, and a small brass ring tucked into the carving.

"Give it a pull, Ethan," Lucian urged, his eyes bright with excitement. "Maybe there’s gold. Or an old wine cellar. Or a map to a pirate’s treasure."

"In the middle of Savannah?" Ed asked skeptically. "It’s probably just a servant’s passage or a broom closet."

Ethan gripped the ring and pulled. With a heavy, grinding sound of stone on stone, the panel swung inward. It wasn't a closet. It was a narrow, winding stone staircase that led downward into a cool, dark draft.

"Okay, that’s officially cool," Daniel said, stepping closer and wrapping a protective arm around Asher, who had gone slightly pale. "But also incredibly creepy."

"I’m going down," Lucian announced, already reaching for his phone to turn on the flashlight.

"The hell you are!" Ethan grabbed his shoulder. "We don't know if those stairs are stable. Ed, give us a structural opinion."

Ed peered into the darkness, sniffing the air. "It smells dry. No mold, no dampness. It’s well-ventilated. But we should wait until we have proper flashlights and, I don't know, maybe a rope?"

"You guys are such wimps," Lucian laughed, but he didn't push his luck. He shut the panel with a satisfying thud. "Fine. We’ll explore the dungeon later. Right now, I’m starving. Who’s up for a massive brunch? My treat."

The mood shifted back to lightheartedness instantly. They spent the next few hours in a whirlwind of bacon, pancakes, and loud music. They opened all the windows, letting the sweet, humid Savannah air flow through the house, chasing away the stillness.

Asher and Daniel took over the task of hanging pictures in the hallway. It was a slow process because every third picture resulted in a five-minute make-out session or a debate about whether the frame was level.

"Stop it," Daniel laughed, catching Asher’s hands as he tried to tickle him while he was holding a hammer. "I am trying to be a productive member of this household."

"You're so cute when you're being a handyman," Asher teased, leaning in to kiss the corner of Daniel’s mouth. "All focused and brooding. It’s very attractive."

Daniel set the hammer down and pulled Asher flush against him, his hands resting on Asher’s hips. "I’m just happy, Ash. I didn't think college could feel like... this. Like a real home."

Asher’s expression softened, his playful energy settling into something deeper. "Me too. I feel like we can finally breathe here."

The afternoon was a blur of domestic bliss. They played a heated game of touch football in the overgrown backyard, which ended when Lucian accidentally tackled Ethan into a rosebush. They sat on the porch steps, drinking cold sodas and watching the neighbors—or lack thereof. The house sat on a massive lot, and the nearest neighbor was a good hundred yards away, hidden behind a dense line of oak trees draped in Spanish moss.

"It’s so quiet here," Ed remarked, leaning back against a pillar. "Usually, in a city like this, you hear cars, people, something. But here? It’s like the rest of the world just stops at the gate."

"That’s why it’s the corner of the district," Ethan said, looking out toward the iron gates. "Privacy is the ultimate luxury."

As the sun began to dip below the horizon, painting the sky in bruises of purple and orange, the group decided to head out for a celebratory dinner at a nearby seafood shack they’d seen on the drive in.

"First one to the car gets to pick the music!" Lucian shouted, sprinting down the porch steps.

They all scrambled after him, laughing and shoving, the sound of their footsteps heavy on the wooden stairs. They piled into Ethan’s oversized SUV, the engine roaring to life and breaking the evening silence. Ethan put the car in gear and started down the long, winding gravel driveway toward the gates.

"Wait, did we leave the gate open?" Ed asked, squinting through the windshield.

"I think so," Ethan said. "I don't remember anyone closing it after the pizza delivery last night."

The gates were wide open, the iron wings spread like an invitation. Ethan drove through them, turning right onto the main road that led back toward the heart of Savannah.

They drove for five minutes, the music blasting, Lucian singing at the top of his lungs, and Asher leaning his head on Daniel’s shoulder, watching the trees go by.

"Hey, Ethan," Daniel said, frowning as he looked out the window. "Didn't we just pass that broken stone statue?"

Ethan glanced out the side. "The one with the headless angel? Yeah, there must be a few of them in this neighborhood. Very 'Southern Gothic' vibes."

They kept driving. Another five minutes passed. The road was straight, lined with the same thick, mossy oaks.

"Wait," Ed said, leaning forward and gripping the back of the driver's seat. "Ethan. Stop the car."

"What’s up?"

"Look ahead," Ed whispered.

Up ahead, the headlights caught the glint of iron. Large, ornate iron gates. And beyond them, the looming, dark silhouette of a Victorian house with a turret.

"Is that... another house like ours?" Lucian asked, his voice losing its humor.

Ethan slowed the car to a crawl. As they got closer, the details became clearer. The red-and-gold stained glass window. The rosebush Ethan had been tackled into. The gravel driveway.

"It’s our house," Daniel said, his voice flat. "Ethan, you turned right. We’ve been driving away for ten minutes."

"I know I turned right!" Ethan snapped, his grip tightening on the steering wheel. "Maybe I looped back around? The roads here are confusing."

"There weren't any turns, Ethan," Ed pointed out, his voice trembling slightly. "It was one straight road."

"I'm turning around," Ethan said, his face set in a hard line. He pulled a sharp U-turn, the tires spitting gravel. He drove back the way they came, driving faster this time.

Nobody spoke. Asher gripped Daniel’s hand so hard his knuckles turned white. Daniel pulled him closer, his eyes locked on the road ahead.

Five minutes. Ten minutes.

The headlights hit the iron again. The gates. The house. The headless angel statue.

"Okay, not funny!" Lucian yelled, leaning out the window. "Who’s messing with the GPS? This isn't possible!"

"The GPS isn't even working!" Asher cried, holding up his phone. The screen showed a spinning circle, the map unable to load their location. "It says 'Searching for signal,' but I have full bars!"

Ethan didn't stop this time. He drove through the gates, up the driveway, and screeched to a halt right in front of the porch. He threw the car into park and jumped out, his chest heaving.

"It’s just a loop," Ethan panted, looking around at the dark trees. "It’s a circular road. We just didn't notice the turn-off. We’ll try again, and this time, we’ll use the compass on Ed’s watch."

They all got out of the car, the air feeling suddenly much heavier than it had ten minutes ago. The house seemed to tower over them, its dark windows looking down like empty eyes.

"Ethan," Daniel said softly, pointing toward the gate they had just driven through.

They all turned to look.

The gates were closed. Not just closed, but locked. The heavy iron chain they hadn't even noticed before was wrapped around the bars, and the padlock was rusted shut, as if it hadn't been touched in decades.

"But... we just drove through them," Lucian whispered, his face pale in the moonlight. "They were wide open."

"Maybe they’re spring-loaded?" Ed suggested, though he sounded like he didn't believe it himself.

"Let’s just go inside," Asher whispered, tugging on Daniel’s arm. "I don't like this. Let’s go inside, lock the doors, and wait for morning. Everything looks different in the dark. We’ll find the right road tomorrow."

They retreated into the house, the heavy oak door clicking shut behind them. For the first time, the grand foyer didn't feel like a kingdom. It felt like a trap.

And as Daniel led Asher up the stairs, he looked back down at the front door. On the inside of the wood, where there had been nothing before, there were now five deep, fresh scratches, as if something had tried to claw its way in—or out.

The heavy oak door didn't just close; it seemed to seal, the sound of the latch echoing through the cavernous foyer like a final gavel. The air inside Blackwood Manor had shifted. The sweet, floral scent of Savannah jasmine was gone, replaced by a cold, metallic tang that tasted like pennies on the tongue.

"Okay, nobody panic," Ethan said, his voice cracking as he leaned against the door. He was still holding his car keys, his knuckles white. "We have electricity. We have water. We just need to wait for morning. In the light, we’ll see the trick. We’ll see the wires. Maybe it’s some high-end escape room prank the previous owners left behind."

Daniel didn't answer. He was staring at the five deep gouges in the front door. They weren't just scratches; they were deliberate, carved deep into the ancient wood. He stepped forward, his hand trembling as he reached out to touch them. The wood felt cold—unnaturally cold—and a dark, sap-like resin was oozing from the wounds.

"Dan, don't," Asher whispered, grabbing his arm. Asher’s eyes were wide, darting toward the dark corners of the ceiling where the shadows seemed to be stretching. "Whatever did that... it was inside with us. It's still inside with us."

They retreated into the living room, the only place that still felt somewhat "theirs" because of the half-unpacked boxes and the lingering smell of the pizza they’d eaten for lunch. They huddled together on the floor, the grand furniture of the house looming over them like silent giants.

"We stay together," Ethan commanded, trying to regain his role as the leader of the group. "Nobody goes to the bathroom alone. Nobody goes to the kitchen alone. We wait for sunrise. Once the sun hits that gate, we’ll see things clearly."

Asher crawled into Daniel’s lap, wrapping his arms tightly around his neck. Daniel held him back, his chin resting on Asher’s head. He could feel Asher’s heart racing against his chest, a frantic drumming that matched his own.

"I’m scared, Dan," Asher breathed into his ear.

"I know," Daniel whispered back, kissing his temple. "But I’m right here. I’m not letting anything touch you. I promise. I’ll stay awake all night if I have to."

"Remember that time we got lost in that corn maze freshman year?" Asher asked, his voice shaking with a forced attempt at humor. "You said the same thing, and then a twelve-year-old in a clown mask made you scream so loud you lost your voice for two days."

Daniel let out a dry, hollow laugh, grateful for the distraction. "That kid was fast, Ash. And his makeup was way too realistic. But this? This is just a house. It’s just wood and stone. We're stronger than a pile of bricks."

An hour passed in suffocating silence. Every creak of the floorboards made them jump. Every sigh of the wind through the turret felt like a voice trying to form words. Then, the sound started.

Thump.

It was low, heavy, and rhythmic. It didn't come from outside. It came from directly beneath them.

Thump. Thump.

"Is that... the water heater?" Lucian asked, standing up and looking at the floorboards. "Maybe the pipes are just old?"

"The water heater is in the basement," Ed said, his face turning an ashy grey. He was clutching his medical textbook like a shield. "And that sound... that’s not mechanical. It’s too uneven. It sounds like something dragging itself."

The thumping moved. It traveled from the center of the room toward the foyer, then began to vibrate through the walls. It sounded like something massive was pushing through the narrow spaces between the bricks and the plaster. Suddenly, the lights flickered. The grand chandelier above them groaned, the crystals jingling like tiny bells. Then, with a violent pop, every bulb in the room shattered simultaneously.

"Down!" Daniel yelled, shoving Asher to the floor and shielding him with his body as glass rained down on them.

In the sudden, absolute darkness, the thumping stopped. The silence that followed was even worse. It was a thick, heavy silence that felt like it was pressing against their eardrums.

"Is everyone okay?" Ethan’s voice called out from the dark, sounding small and distant.

"I’m fine," Lucian gasped. "Just a few scratches."

"I'm okay," Asher whispered, his voice tiny and fragile. "But Dan... something is breathing. Right next to us."

Daniel froze. He listened. And through the sound of his own blood rushing in his ears, he heard it. A wet, raspy intake of breath. It sounded like a pair of lungs filled with liquid.

"Ethan, get a light! Now!" Daniel barked.

A second later, the beam of Ethan’s phone flashlight cut through the dark. He swung the light around the room. There was nothing there—just the broken glass, their moving boxes, and the five of them huddled in the center. But as the light hit the floor where the thumping had been loudest, they saw it. A trail of black, oily liquid was seeping up through the gaps in the floorboards. It didn't spread like water; it moved like a living thing, coiling and reaching out toward them.

"The kitchen!" Ethan yelled. "Move! Now! The kitchen has a solid tile floor!"

They scrambled to their feet, Daniel hauling Asher up and practically carrying him toward the kitchen. They burst through the swinging doors, and Ethan slammed them shut, shoving a heavy wooden chair under the handle.

"Salt," Ed panted, his eyes manic. "I read about this. In the old folklore books I used for that history of medicine elective. If it’s... if it’s what I think it is, we need salt. It's a barrier. Don't ask me how it works, just find it!"

"You think we’re being hunted by a ghost?" Lucian snapped, his fear turning into anger. "This isn't a movie, Ed! We need to find a way to break that gate down!"

"Do you have a better explanation for the road looping and the lights exploding?" Ed screamed back.

"Enough!" Daniel roared, stepping between them. He looked at Asher, who was staring at the kitchen door with a look of pure terror. "Asher, find the salt. There was a big container in the pantry box. Ethan, Lucian, help him. Ed, tell us exactly where to put it."

While the others frantically searched the pantry, Daniel pulled Asher into a corner near the stove. He took Asher’s face in his hands, forcing him to look away from the shaking door. "Look at me, Ash. Just me. Don't look at the door."

Asher’s eyes finally focused, though they were brimming with tears. "We’re not going to make it out, are we? The house... it doesn't want us to leave."

"Hey, look at me," Daniel said firmly, his voice dropping into a low, protective rumble. "I am going to get you out of here. I don't care if I have to kick down every wall in this house myself. You are my world, okay? And nothing—not a ghost, not a loop, not this house—is taking you away from me."

Asher leaned forward, pressing his forehead against Daniel’s. "I'm so sorry I made us move here. I just wanted us to have something nice for our last year."

"Don't you dare apologize," Daniel whispered, pressing a fierce, desperate kiss to his lips that tasted like salt and panic. "We’re going to be fine. We’re the Blackwood Five, remember? We’re too stubborn to die."

"Found it!" Lucian yelled, holding up a giant industrial-sized container of sea salt.

"Line the doors and the windows," Ed commanded, his voice regaining some authority. "And the vents. Don't leave a single gap."

They worked with a frantic, silent energy. They poured the white crystals in a thick, unbroken line across every entrance. As Daniel finished the last window, he looked out into the night toward the driveway.

The iron gate was glowing. Not with light, but with a faint, pulsing red energy that made the air around it shimmer like heat off asphalt. And standing just outside the bars, silhouetted against the pale moonlight, was a figure. It was tall, impossibly thin, and it wasn't moving. It was just watching the house.

"Guys," Daniel said, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Don't look outside. Just finish the salt."

But it was too late. The figure outside raised a long, skeletal hand and pointed directly at the kitchen window. The salt on the windowsill began to turn black, melting away like sugar in boiling water.

The thumping started again, but this time, it wasn't in the walls. It was on the other side of the kitchen door, accompanied by a soft, wet scratching sound.