By the time we’re airborne, the mood has shifted.
Money means no questions asked.I’ve come to realise this in the six months I’ve worked for Barrett Devall.And this evening is no exception.
No one asked us why we were bundling a drugged woman onto a private plane.No one asked us where we were taking her or why.And when we landed, the guy who rented us the car never batted an eyelid at our comatose companion, who Willa is now supporting in the back seat as I drive us to the infamous Belial House.
Mountains surround the valley of Hellion Vale like two hands clasped together, holding us in their grasp.I’m not sure yet whether this feels safe—like a bird caught in human hands, unsure whether they’re kind or deadly.
It’s when we leave the flat terrain and start to climb the winding road up the side of Hellion Ridge that the atmosphere shifts.The rising altitude only intensifies the tension in the Jeep, the blacked-out windows sealing us in as the four-wheel drive pushes us higher up the mountain.
The sky is raven black, the trees swaying in the breeze as if they’re tittering to one another.
Reminding myself that it has been a hell of a long night, I blink away the image of the gossiping trees as we head towards our destination.
It can’t be much further.
The wheels grip the road like mountaineering boots, determined to get us to Belial House.Any higher and we’ll need oxygen tanks.
As we round what feels like the twentieth corner, the road widens, and a clearing appears as the satnav announces that we’ve reached our destination.
I pull the car into the driveway and try to get a look at the house, but even with the headlamps, it’s hidden amongst the darkness, which is so thick I can almost touch it.
I’m the first to get out of the car.There’s no porch light to welcome us, no lamps in the windows, no cosy fire roaring from within.We’re met instead by a towering structure: obsidian windows, a large, uninviting door, and a coldness I can already feel in my bones.
Any relief I felt at having finally arrived is quickly smothered by the sombre surroundings.
“Maybe we should be thankful it’s night,” Willa says as she climbs out of the car.“At least we can’t see the house properly.”
I pull Hayami from the back seat, where she’s been unconscious for the entire journey.I clutch her to my chest, relieved she isn’t awake to see this.The building is so still, which strikes me as odd—as if it’s watching us, waiting for us to come inside before it reveals itself.
“What’s the plan?”Willa asks, her eyes taking in the sheer bleakness of our surroundings—the tall trees, the dampness of the earth beneath our feet, the gibbous moon glowing above us—anything other than looking at the house we must enter.
“We’ll take Hayami in, get some lights and heat on, and I’ll bring the rest of the luggage in.You stay with her in case she wakes.”
Willa looks at the sleeping Hayami in my arms.“She’s going to freak when she wakes.”
“She’ll be groggy from the sedative,” I say.She usually wakes up a bit cloudy and confused.“It’ll be later, once she’s fully come around, when it hits her.”
“Something to look forward to.”Willa exhales, and I note the new lines that have sprung up around her eyes.Worry’s etched into her forehead, the gravity of her situation weighing heavily on her shoulders.“You ready?”She stares at the house as if she’s gearing herself up to enter.
“We can’t stand out here all night,” I reply, wishing we could do just that.
We approach the house.Willa finds the keys in a key safe on the wall and pushes open the large wooden door.
The smell hits me first.
Damp.Cold.Forgotten.
“According to the plans, there’s a large living area straight through those double doors,” Willa says, wrinkling her nose.We spent some time on the plane studying the floor plan of the house and the map of the grounds Markus supplied us with, familiarising ourselves with the layout.
Outlines appear as my vision adjusts to the gloom.A large staircase snakes around the wall to the left of the grand entrance.Gilded frames catch on the sliver of moonlight that’s dared to sneak through the windows, and a decorative table in the centre of the foyer is covered with a grey dust sheet.All the signs of a house once steeped in grandeur that, for some unknown reason, has been left to rot and ferment.
Willa trails behind as I push through a set of double doors and into a large room.
Like miniature mountains, the furniture is covered with more grey sheets.Willa proceeds to pull them off, setting off clouds of dust, revealing two large sofas, three easy chairs, and a coffee table.
“Lights?”I ask Willa as I lay Hayami down on one of the sofas, tucking her arms in and making sure she’s comfortable.
“One second.”She darts over to the far wall and fumbles with the switch.
