Chapter 5 - Darkness in Rowan House
The darkness felt heavy, pressing against them from every side.
The faint hum of the mansion’s ventilation system completely stopped, leaving an eerie, suffocating silence.
“He cut the main power grid,” Jonah whispered in the dark, the sound of his pistol being cocked echoing loudly.
“And he destroyed the backup generators before we even knew he was here.”
Emergency backup lights flickered on, casting a sickly, dim red glow across the control room.
Caleb leaned heavily on his cane, his breathing strained but controlled.
“We need to reach the armory in the basement,” Caleb said.
“If he has night vision and tactical gear, sitting in this room makes us sitting ducks.”
Jonah shook his head.
“The main hallways are death traps without power, boss.”
“He will see us coming from a mile away.”
Elise listened to the men strategize, her mind racing through the architectural layout of the massive house.
She had spent seventy-two hours memorizing every hidden corner, service closet, and forgotten corridor.
“We don't take the main hallways,” Elise interrupted quietly.
Both men turned to look at her in the red emergency light.
“The servants' corridors run behind the walls of the main rooms,” she explained.
“They are narrow, unmapped on the official blueprints, and lead directly to the basement laundry facility.”
Caleb stared at her, deeply impressed by her sharp memory.
“Lead the way,” Caleb ordered.
Elise opened a disguised panel in the back of the control room, revealing a dusty, incredibly narrow passageway.
She stepped inside first, guiding Caleb carefully as he struggled to walk with his heavy leg braces.
Jonah took the rear, keeping his gun raised and scanning the darkness behind them.
They moved in total silence, the only sound being the rhythmic thud of Caleb’s cane against the wooden floorboards.
The air in the hidden corridor was stale and smelled faintly of old cedar and dust.
Suddenly, Elise stopped moving.
She held up her hand, signaling for the men behind her to freeze.
“What is it?” Jonah whispered urgently.
“I smell copper,” Elise mouthed back.
She crept forward, pushing open a small access door that led into the main dining room.
In the dim red light, they saw a body sprawled across the expensive Persian rug.
It was Marcus, Caleb’s fiercely loyal underboss and closest friend.
Marcus was bleeding heavily from a gunshot wound to his stomach, gasping weakly for air.
Caleb pushed past Elise, dropping his cane and falling to his knees beside his friend.
“Marcus, hold on, we are getting you out of here,” Caleb urged, pressing his hands desperately against the wound.
Marcus coughed, blood bubbling at the corner of his mouth.
He reached up with a trembling, bloody hand and grabbed Caleb by the collar of his shirt.
“It’s not a hitman, Caleb,” Marcus wheezed, his eyes wide with absolute terror.
“The man hunting us isn't a stranger.”
Caleb leaned closer, his face turning pale.
“Who is it, Marcus?”
Marcus swallowed hard, fighting for one final breath.
“It is Julian,” Marcus whispered.
Caleb froze completely, the color draining from his face as if he had seen a ghost.
“Julian has been dead for five years,” Caleb stated, his voice devoid of all emotion.
May you like
Marcus let out a final, rattling breath.
“He is standing right behind you,” Marcus gasped before his eyes glazed over in death.
