Samantha glanced over her shoulder; nothing but blackness. Fear blanketed her as she heard a noise behind her. “What’s that?” she whispered.
“It’s okay. It’s just a tiny creature. He won’t hurt you. You’ll be all right. We probably don’t have much further to go,” he cajoled.
She rolled her eyes. What was it about men that they didn’t mind little beasts with tails? After walking for over fifteen minutes, they finally came upon another metal ladder leading upward.
“A ladder,” Luca observed. He sidled up next to it so that Samantha could reach it. “Looks like this is the end of the road. Okay, we’re going up. Can you get on? Here, let me get you closer to it so you don’t fall.”
“Got it, thanks.” Samantha easily grasped the metal rungs, and caught a lower one with her feet. She held tight, knowing what lay below her.
“Okay, let me pass. I’ll go up first. Looks like there’s a different kind of hatch on this one. Look down and protect your eyes. I’m goin’ to force it upward. Don’t come up until I say it’s safe, okay?”
Samantha nodded, curled her head into her shoulder and put a hand over her face. A rush of sunlight and dust beamed onto them both as Luca easily removed the circular cover. He began his ascent and peered over the rim.
A large, spacious courtyard awaited him. Climbing up onto the patio, he scanned his surroundings. Sensing no humans or supernaturals, he called down to Samantha. “You can come on up. All’s safe. We’re in a courtyard. Well-kept from what I can see.”
A decorative three-tiered fountain stood in the center of the courtyard. It was surrounded by several potted impatiens, hibiscus, palm and banana trees. The old red brick patio contrasted with the white clay pottery.
“This is beautiful,” Samantha commented. “I love the fountain. Do you think Asgear lived here?”
“Not sure. He could have rented the property. But still, if it belongs to him, then he did it under an assumed name. There’s nothing on the records of him owning or staying anywhere else but the warehouse.” Luca was not deceived by the immaculately cared for garden. He felt something was off. “Samantha, be careful. Stay close. We’ll sweep the courtyard, but I’m guessing that whatever we’re looking for isn’t out here in the open. Unfortunately, I think we’ll find what we seek through that door over there.” He pointed to the robin’s-egg-blue door that led into the home.
After a thorough but unsuccessful exploration, Luca and Samantha readied themselves to enter the house. As they stood outside, a feeling of consternation swept over Samantha. She stared up at the home, and examined the exterior for any signs of overt destruction. On appearance alone, it held a warm façade, welcoming to all. Looking beyond the surface, a menacing sense of foreboding rained down from above. She might not have been psychic, but she clearly perceived the trickling damnation emanating from this structure. Every cell in her body told her to stay outside.
Anything could be in that house. A trap? A latent spell? It was true that Asgear was dead. But Samantha knew for certain that magic didn’t always die with its creator. Magic was a living energy which waxed, waned and only sometimes died. It carried with it the good and evil for which it was intended. She knew it was waiting. What ‘it’ was remained to be seen. She steeled her nerves, determined to conquer her fear.
Luca guardedly turned the knob and entered. “It’s unlocked.”
A tidy kitchen located in the back of the home was decorated in red and black tiles with a fifties style chrome and white Formica kitchen set. Quiet. Cold. A long, narrow hallway led to the front entrance. As they explored the small home, Samantha couldn’t help noticing the lack of furnishing or décor. The hallway led to a small living space which only contained a flat screen TV and a recliner that looked as if it had seen better days. The threadbare tan fabric was frayed, and spots of foam peeked through the tears. Stark white walls gave way to cream roller shades. Yet there was no other evidence of someone living in the home: no remains of food, dishes, glasses or newspapers.
“Whoever lived here sure was a minimalist,” Samantha conjectured as she followed Luca upstairs.
“Yeah, that’s an understatement. It’s got fewer furnishings than a cheap motel. Hate to ask you this, Samantha, but are you sure you don’t remember being here? Asgear must have kept you here at some point for you to have left these clues.” Luca rounded another chalky-walled hallway.
“I don’t remember being here at all. But this doesn’t seem right. It doesn’t feel right. It’s like there’s a maleficent presence that’s ingrained into every pore of this house. And there are no bedrooms up here, except that one. Look.” She pointed to a single brown wooden door. “It’s the only one up here? How can that be? This is so strange. I get that this place is small but you’d think there was more than one room.”
“Perhaps someone remodeled to combine the rooms?” The oak door was locked with a large nickel padlock. “It’s locked, but not for long. Stand back, Samantha. Let’s see what’s behind door number one,” he joked.
“What?”
“Monty Hall. Let’s Make a Deal?” He shot her a sly grin. “Okay, here we go.”
Samantha stood with her back against the wall, nervously watching Luca. She prayed the periapt was inside this room. She felt anxious, as though she was watching someone open a prank can of mints, waiting for the giant plastic snake to pop out at them.
Luca pulled a thin metal paper clip out of his jeans pocket. He straightened it then bent it back and forth until it snapped into two pieces. Shaping each piece into an “L”, they could be used as a pick and tension wrench. He held them up and smiled. “Always prepared. If it were night, I’d just break the damn lock but the sun has me too weak to do it by hand. Here we go.”
“By weak, do you mean human? Good thing you are quite the boy scout,” she joked.
Luca grasped the lock with both hands, inserted and applied pressure with the wrench and picked at it until he heard it pop. Jerking the lock off in a single movement, he grabbed the antiqued glass knob and turned, pushing the door wide open. He felt around for a light switch but found none. He flicked on his flashlight and shone it into the darkened space. Settling a comforting hand on Samantha’s shoulder, he tried to ease her fear. “It’s okay. Nothing living is in here.”
Samantha was curious to see what was inside. She pressed up against Luca’s back, peering in from behind him. A large, darkened, rectangular room stood before them. Its walls and ceilings were draped in a black velvety fabric. The wooden planks had been painted a lacquered cardinal red. Elaborate candle wall sconces adorned the far wall; burnt candle wax splattered the floor. On the other side of the room, a metal ring was attached to the seam along the wall and the ceiling. Attached to the ring were long steel chains and two metal cuffs. Evidence of a kept captive were scattered across the floor; clothing, a plate, glass, remains of stale bread. On the farthest wall, opposite the entrance, an ornately carved circular wall hanging glowed in the distance.
“What the fuck?” Luca’s words trailed off on seeing the entire room, realizing it had been used to shackle and hold a prisoner. Samantha.
Samantha turned on her flashlight and ran to the pile of clothing near the chains. “Oh my God, Luca. My clothes. These are mine.”
It started to settle in that she had been here. Stripped of her clothes. Enslaved. She didn’t want to cry but tears pricked her eyes. Even though she couldn’t remember what had happened, she knew he’d done something to her. Gathering the filthy dress into her hands, she fell to her knees and began to sob.