A Caretaker

The taxi slowed as the trees thinned, its headlights stretching across an empty stretch of land. Gravel crunched under the tires before it rolled to a halt in front of a towering mansion that rose out of the mist like an accusation.

Velora leaned forward from the back seat, eyes widening as she caught her first glimpse of the structure.

“This is it?” she whispered, not sure whether she was asking the driver or herself.

The driver didn’t answer. Maybe he didn’t want to.

Most people wouldn’t, judging by the way the mansion loomed silent, colorless, alive in a way that felt wrong.

Velora stepped out, her boots sinking slightly into the damp earth. The cold air nipped at her cheeks. She tugged her suitcase from the trunk and set it beside her, then unfolded the paper the agency had emailed earlier.

The address stared back at her in bold letters.

She glanced from the paper to the mansion.

Her brows knit together.

The driver stayed in the car.

“Good luck,” he muttered, already shifting gears.

Velora frowned.

“Wait—aren’t you—?”

But the taxi was already turning, disappearing down the road and leaving her alone with her suitcase and a mansion that seemed to breathe shadows.

She adjusted her coat and pushed open the rusted gate. It groaned loudly, the kind of sound that made the back of her neck prickle.

“Relax. It’s just old metal,” she whispered to herself.

Dragging her suitcase along the stone path, she approached the massive wooden doors. They were carved with symbols she didn’t recognize like loops and angles that felt more decorative than threatening, but still strange.

As she raised her hand to knock, the door opened on its own.

Velora jumped back a step.

A tall man stood framed in the doorway

a thin, dressed in a perfectly pressed black suit, silver hair combed neatly back. His posture was rigid, his expression unreadable.

“Miss Velora Hart?” he asked, voice calm and low.

She blinked. “Uh, yes. That’s me.”

He bowed slightly.

“Welcome to Ravenscar Estate. My name is Aldric. I will be assisting you during your stay.”

“Assisting me?” Velora repeated, her confusion deepening.

“I thought I was just here for… caretaker duties?”

The butler stepped aside, gesturing her in.

“All will be explained. Please, come inside before the cold worsens.”

Velora hesitated only a moment before stepping into the foyer.

The interior was vast high ceilings, dark wood floors, portraits of unfamiliar faces watching from the walls. Dust lingered in the air, but everything was arranged meticulously, as if someone tended to the house despite its distance from the world.

“If you would follow me, Miss Hart, I will show you your quarters,” he said, hands clasped behind his back.

Velora trailed after him, suitcase rolling quietly behind her.

She didn’t notice or couldn't notice the slight shift of movement on the upper landing.

The faintest silhouette standing behind the railing.

But for now, only the butler greeted her.

Only the butler spoke.

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