The rain had started before Ethan Cole reached Blackwood.

It was the kind of rain that made the world disappear.

The road ahead was almost invisible through the windshield. Tall trees stood on both sides of the narrow highway, their branches moving violently in the wind. Every few seconds, lightning flashed across the dark sky, revealing the empty road ahead.

Ethan tightened his hands around the steering wheel.

He had not been back to Blackwood for twenty-five years.

Not since the night his parents died.

He had promised himself that he would never return.

Yet here he was.

Driving toward the place he had spent half his life trying to forget.

A sign appeared through the rain.

WELCOME TO BLACKWOOD

Ethan slowed down.

For a moment, he considered turning around.

Then his phone rang.

He looked at the screen.

Unknown Number.

He didn’t answer.

The phone stopped.

A few seconds later, it rang again.

Ethan frowned and answered.

“Hello?”

Silence.

“Who is this?”

Nothing.

Then a woman’s voice whispered:

“Don’t go to the house.”

Ethan’s heart stopped.

He knew that voice.

But it couldn’t be.

“Maya?”

The line went dead.

Ethan stared at the phone.

Maya Reed.

His childhood friend.

The girl who had disappeared from his life twenty-five years ago.

The girl he had once promised he would never leave.

He shook his head.

“It can’t be her.”

The phone rang again.

This time, the number was different.

Ethan answered.

“Hello?”

A man’s voice spoke.

“You’re already too late.”

The call ended.

Ethan stared at the road.

Then he saw it.

The house.

Blackwood Manor.

It stood at the end of a long driveway surrounded by dead trees.

The house was enormous.

Three stories.

Dark windows.

Broken stone walls.

A large iron gate hung open.

Ethan parked his car.

For several seconds, he remained inside.

He looked at the house.

It looked exactly as he remembered it.

The same black roof.

The same old windows.

The same wooden door.

His childhood home.

His parents’ home.

The place where everything had ended.

Ethan finally stepped out.

Rain soaked his jacket within seconds.

He walked toward the entrance.

The front door opened before he reached it.

Ethan stopped.

“Hello?”

No answer.

He looked inside.

Darkness.

“Is anyone there?”

Nothing.

He stepped inside.

The smell hit him immediately.

Dust.

Old wood.

And something else.

Something familiar.

He couldn’t explain it.

Ethan closed the door behind him.

The house was silent.

Too silent.

He turned on his flashlight.

The beam moved across the hallway.

Old paintings covered the walls.

Family photographs.

His parents.

His grandparents.

Himself.

Ethan stopped.

There he was.

A little boy.

Maybe six years old.

Standing between his mother and father.

He stared at the photograph.

His mother was smiling.

His father looked serious.

And behind them…

Someone else was standing in the doorway.

Ethan moved closer.

His flashlight shook.

The person was difficult to see.

A man.

Tall.

Wearing a dark coat.

Ethan frowned.

He had never seen him before.

Suddenly…

The lights turned on.

Ethan jumped.

“Jesus!”

A voice came from behind him.

“Still afraid of this place?”

Ethan spun around.

A woman stood at the end of the hallway.

She was holding an umbrella.

Her dark hair was wet from the rain.

Ethan stared.

For a moment…

Neither spoke.

Then the woman smiled.

“Maya.”

Ethan couldn’t believe his eyes.

Maya Reed.

She looked older now.

Of course she did.

Twenty-five years had passed.

But Ethan still recognized her.

Those eyes.

That smile.

The small scar above her eyebrow.

He remembered that scar.

He had given it to her.

They had been twelve years old.

They were climbing a tree.

Maya had slipped.

Ethan had tried to catch her.

They had both fallen.

Maya had cut her eyebrow.

She had cried for ten minutes.

Then she had hit Ethan with a branch.

Ethan smiled.

“You still have it.”

Maya touched the scar.

“Unfortunately.”

“You blamed me for this.”

“I still do.”

Ethan laughed quietly.

For the first time in twenty-five years…

Blackwood didn’t feel completely terrifying.

Maya walked toward him.

“You shouldn’t have come.”

Ethan’s smile disappeared.

“I received a call.”

“What call?”

“Someone told me not to come here.”

Maya became serious.

“Who?”

“I don’t know.”

“Did they give you a name?”

“No.”

“Did you recognize the voice?”

Ethan hesitated.

“The first caller…”

“What?”

“I thought it was you.”

Maya’s expression changed.

“What did they say?”

“Don’t go to the house.”

Maya looked around.

“That’s interesting.”

“Why?”

“Because I didn’t call you.”

Ethan stared at her.

“You didn’t?”

“No.”

“Then who did?”

Maya didn’t answer.

A loud sound came from upstairs.

Both of them looked up.

THUMP.

Ethan frowned.

“Was that?”

Another sound.

THUMP.

Maya stepped closer to him.

“Ethan.”

“Yes?”

“We need to leave.”

“Why?”

“Because we’re not alone.”

Ethan looked toward the stairs.

“Who is upstairs?”

Maya shook her head.

“I don’t know.”

Another sound.

This time…

Footsteps.

Slow.

Heavy.

Coming down the stairs.

Ethan’s heart began beating faster.

He reached for the flashlight.

Maya grabbed his arm.

“Don’t.”

“Why?”

“Because if someone is here…”

“What?”

“They already know we’re here.”

The footsteps stopped.

Silence.

Ethan looked at Maya.

Then suddenly…

A door slammed upstairs.

Maya jumped.

Ethan grabbed her hand.

“Stay here.”

“Absolutely not.”

“I’m going upstairs.”

“I’m coming with you.”

“Maya—”

“Twenty-five years ago, you left me alone in this house.”

Ethan froze.

Maya looked at him.

“Not again.”

Ethan didn’t know what to say.

So he nodded.

Together, they climbed the stairs.

The second floor was darker.

The hallway stretched toward a large window.

At the end…

A door was open.

Ethan recognized it.

His father’s study.

He hadn’t entered that room since he was a child.

Maya whispered:

“That’s where they found your parents.”

Ethan stopped.

“I know.”

“Do you remember that night?”

“Some of it.”

“What do you remember?”

Ethan looked at the door.

“Blood.”

Maya said nothing.

“Broken glass.”

“A storm.”

“And someone screaming.”

“Who?”

“My mother.”

Ethan’s voice became quiet.

“I remember my father telling me to run.”

Maya looked at him.

“Did you?”

“No.”

“Why?”

“Because I was six.”

Ethan stared at the dark room.

“I didn’t understand.”

“Then what happened?”

“I don’t know.”

Maya stepped closer.

“You don’t remember?”

“No.”

“Nothing?”

“Nothing after that.”

Maya looked toward the study.

“That’s strange.”

“What?”

“Your parents died in this room.”

“Yes.”

“But the police report said there were no signs of a struggle.”

Ethan turned.

“What?”

Maya nodded.

“I read the report.”

“Why?”

“Because I never believed the official story.”

Ethan stared.

“What official story?”

“Your parents died in an accident.”

Ethan’s face changed.

“That’s not what I was told.”

“Then you were lied to.”

Silence.

Ethan looked at her.

“Who told you?”

“My father.”

“Victor?”

Maya nodded.

Ethan remembered him.

Victor Reed.

Maya’s father.

A quiet man.

Always watching.

Always listening.

Ethan had never trusted him.

“Where is your father now?”

Maya looked away.

“Dead.”

“When?”

“Three months ago.”

Ethan’s expression changed.

“I’m sorry.”

Maya nodded.

“He left me something.”

“What?”

“A key.”

Ethan frowned.

“To what?”

Maya reached into her pocket.

She pulled out a small old key.

Ethan stared at it.

“Your father gave you that?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“He told me to give it to you.”

“Why?”

Maya shook her head.

“I don’t know.”

Ethan took the key.

It was cold.

Strangely cold.

He turned it over.

There was something engraved on it.

3:17

Ethan stared.

“What does this mean?”

Maya whispered:

“I don’t know.”

A clock somewhere in the house began ticking loudly.

Ethan looked around.

“Do you hear that?”

Maya nodded.

Tick.

Tick.

Tick.

The sound became louder.

Ethan looked at his watch.

3:16 AM.

His heart stopped.

Maya saw the time.

“Ethan.”

“What?”

“It’s almost 3:17.”

“What happens at 3:17?”

Maya didn’t answer.

The clock struck.

3:17 AM.

The entire house went dark.

Ethan’s flashlight turned off.

“Maya?”

“I’m here.”

Something moved in the darkness.

Ethan heard breathing.

Not his.

Not Maya’s.

Someone else was in the room.

Ethan whispered:

“Who’s there?”

No answer.

Then…

A woman’s voice whispered from the darkness.

“Ethan.”

He froze.

He knew that voice.

His mother’s voice.

“Mama?”

Maya grabbed his hand.

“Ethan, don’t.”

The voice came again.

“Ethan…”

“Run.”

Ethan’s heart stopped.

That was what his father had said twenty-five years ago.

Run.

A door slammed somewhere downstairs.

Maya pulled Ethan toward the stairs.

They ran.

The lights suddenly returned.

Ethan stopped.

Maya crashed into him.

“What happened?”

Ethan looked behind them.

Nothing.

The hallway was empty.

But then he noticed something.

A wet footprint.

On the floor.

One.

Then another.

Someone had walked through the hallway.

The footprints continued toward the study.

Ethan followed them.

Maya grabbed his arm.

“Don’t.”

Ethan ignored her.

He entered the study.

The room looked untouched.

Dust covered the desk.

Old books filled the shelves.

A broken lamp lay on the floor.

Ethan moved toward the desk.

Then he saw it.

A photograph.

It was lying on the table.

Ethan picked it up.

His hands began shaking.

It was a photograph of his parents.

Taken twenty-five years ago.

But there was something wrong.

His father was standing beside his mother.

And behind them…

Was Victor Reed.

Maya stepped closer.

“That’s my father.”

Ethan nodded.

“Yes.”

“But…”

Maya looked at the photograph.

“That’s impossible.”

“Why?”

“My father wasn’t here that night.”

Ethan turned the photograph over.

There was writing on the back.

His mother’s handwriting.

Ethan recognized it immediately.

He read the words aloud.

“If Ethan ever comes back…”

His voice stopped.

Maya stared.

“What?”

Ethan continued.

“Tell him the truth.”

Below it…

Another sentence.

“The man who killed us is still alive.”

Maya covered her mouth.

Ethan turned toward her.

“Your father knew.”

Maya shook her head.

“No.”

“He was here.”

“No.”

“He knew about my parents.”

“No!”

Maya stepped backward.

“You’re wrong.”

Ethan looked at the photograph again.

Then…

Something fell from the back of the picture.

A small piece of paper.

Ethan picked it up.

There was only one sentence.

“The killer is the man who never left.”

Maya stared at the words.

“What does that mean?”

Ethan didn’t answer.

Suddenly…

A loud noise came from the hallway.

Someone was running.

Ethan and Maya turned.

They rushed out of the study.

The hallway was empty.

But the front door was open.

Ethan ran downstairs.

He reached the entrance.

Nothing.

Whoever had been inside was gone.

Then Maya screamed.

“Ethan!”

He turned.

She was standing beside the staircase.

Pointing at the floor.

Ethan walked toward her.

His heart stopped.

There were wet footprints.

Leading from the front door…

All the way to the study.

But there was something else.

The footprints stopped directly behind Maya.

Ethan stared.

Maya turned slowly.

Nothing.

Ethan looked at the floor again.

One final footprint appeared.

Right beside Maya’s foot.

Ethan whispered:

“Someone was standing behind you.”

Maya’s face went pale.

Then…

The old grandfather clock began ticking.

3:18 AM.

Ethan looked toward the stairs.

The clock’s glass door slowly opened by itself.

Inside was a small black envelope.

Ethan walked toward it.

He opened the envelope.

Inside was a single photograph.

His breath stopped.

It showed Ethan and Maya.

Standing outside Blackwood Manor.

But the photograph was taken from inside the house.

Someone had been watching them.

Ethan turned the photograph over.

Three words were written on the back.

“Welcome home, Ethan.”

Below that…

A second line appeared.

“You have seven days.”

Ethan stared.

“Seven days for what?”

The lights went out again.

And from somewhere deep inside the house…

A woman’s voice whispered:

“To remember who killed your parents.”

Ethan turned toward Maya.

She was staring at him.

And for the first time…

He noticed something strange.

Maya wasn’t afraid of the voice.

She was afraid of him.

TO BE CONTINUED…