Page 131 of Rescued By the Beast
Suddenly Mark closes his eyes and the crease in his forehead intensifies as he concentrates on using his essence. He seems to be in pain, grinding his teeth, but finally manages to create the barrier. It's invisible, I can't see it, but I can feel the energy around us change, as if we were inside a bubble.
With a nod, he opens his eyes and begins to walk around the house.
We cross the living room and head towards the kitchen. The dark energy here is dense, as if every wall breathes hatred and despair. The smell of burnt candles and dead herbs permeates the air, giving the feeling that we are in an open tomb. There is also a smell of rot, hidden behind the herbs and floral aromas, as if in an attempt to cover it up.
With each step, the tension grows, the environment entangling us in a suffocating atmosphere. When we enter the kitchen, I see chaos.
It looks like it hasn't been cleaned in weeks, with dirty dishes piled up in the sink. Bunches of herbs, flowers and roots are scattered across the marble countertop, and a huge knife stained with brown spots that look like dried blood is lying there too, and next to the knife... a severed female finger.
"Oh, no..." I cover my mouth and nose with my hand, trying not to smell it, but it's too late and a sound of nausea escapes my throat.
"Déjà vu," Viklaus hisses. "Look, even the acrylic cauldron is similar to the one we saw in that house."
"Almost the same, but there's no basement here," Mark retorts.
We turn around, passing through the living room until we climb the stairs to the second floor. I know what awaits us upstairs. I was here when everything was still empty from the move, when Benny brought me here to spend the night with him.
I shudder just remembering it.
The house has only one bedroom upstairs and a mezzanine space that that jerk Benny said he would turn into his office.
The room smells of sweat, of bedding that hasn't been changed in a long time. There's a photo album on the unmade bed, with a huge pair of scissors next to it, and scattered everywhere, both on the sheets and on the floor, are snippets of photographs.
They're photos of their wedding, I realise.
Mark and Viklaus look in cupboards, drawers, under the bed, but find nothing of interest. So we move on, quickly passing through the bathroom, which also holds nothing important, then we go to the mezzanine, empty except for an office desk that looks like it has been assembled but has not yet been used, it doesn't even have a chair.
"Maybe he died before he finished setting up the office," I murmur to myself.
"It seems so," Mark mutters before turning his face to the ceiling, as if sniffing something. "I smell something coming from there... the smell of humans..."
I look up and only now realise there is an entrance to the attic.
"Whoever it is, they're dead..." Viklaus says.
I swallow hard and watch as Mark opens the hatch, pulling out the ladder so we can climb up.
He pauses for a moment, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath.
"Shit, my barrier won't last long, let's go while I still have essence."
He goes up first, followed by Viklaus, and I follow behind, taking care not to stray more than three steps away. As soon as I reach the attic, a shiver runs down my spine.
What we find there is chilling.
"What the hell is this..." Mark curses, his eyes narrowing as he examines the place.
There are black candles around a pentagram drawn on the floor, in the middle of the symbol is a rectangular table and on it what looks like pieces of skin and hair, nails and human teeth as if they had been torn out...
And a lot of blood...
Something horrible happened there, a heinous crime.
I suppress the urge to vomit by controlling my breathing, and pull a strand of my clean, shampoo-scented hair to my nose so I don't smell the place.
We walk around the table, further into the room, and behind it, scattered on the floor...
Torn and bloodstained clothes. Handbags. Shoes.
