After an intense session, the protagonist and his companions Delilah and Minne enjoyed a relaxing meal. Their quiet domesticity was interrupted by a text message from Cora, indicating she knew the location of a meeting.
My stars, that was entirely unexpected.
The destination they were traveling to was nowhere near the city; it was a secluded stretch of coastline, reminiscent of a forgotten summer village, the kind of place only recalled when warmer weather arrived. Currently, however, it possessed an air of abandonment. The roads were narrow, barely accommodating a single vehicle comfortably, let alone two. To the left, rows of houses stood in succession, each with its own small yard, while to the right, the sea churned, gray and agitated beneath a sky heavy with clouds.
We had traversed this area once before, during our journey to Carrie’s summer residence. That passage was likely the sole reason anything here felt remotely familiar.
"So... this is his hideout," I remarked, decelerating the car as I surveyed the houses. "Are you certain this is the correct location, Cora?"
"Yes," she affirmed, nodding firmly. "I placed Esme’s earbuds in his car, concealed beneath his seat. Yesterday, I tracked the GPS signal, and it led me here."
I registered a slight frown. "And you’re positive he wasn't just here for some business or other engagement?"
"I... apologize," she stated softly. "But this is the only lead I possess."
I let out a breath through my nose. "As good as any, I suppose?"
She leaned forward slightly, pointing. "There. On the left."
Every house lined the left side of the road, yet the one she indicated drew immediate attention. A modest iron gate separated it from the street, and beyond it...
"Damn," I breathed.
It wasn't merely a house; it was colossal. A four-story edifice, easily dwarfing its neighbors. However, the front yard was in disarray. Overgrown grass sprawled, branches littered the ground, and any semblance of former landscaping had been thoroughly neglected.
A pool was also visible from the road, empty and dry, filled with leaves and detritus as if untouched for months.
"Someone clearly isn't a fan of upkeep," I mumbled.
I didn't decelerate too drastically as we passed it; the last thing I needed was to appear suspicious. My driving maintained an aura of nonchalance, as if I hadn't even registered its presence.
After a few minutes, a humble roadside motel came into view. It appeared antiquated, as if it had peaked in previous decades and never undergone any updates. The sign above flickered weakly, a single letter entirely extinguished. Adjacent to it, a broad, open dirt lot served as a parking area, sparsely populated by only four vehicles.
A few plastic loungers were scattered near the building's entrance, all unoccupied, slightly grimy, and tilted at odd angles, suggesting long-term disuse. The entire establishment radiated a tired, forgotten ambiance.
"Sufficient," I declared, turning the wheel.
I guided the vehicle into the lot, bringing it to a halt. The engine had barely ceased its hum before an individual approached.
An elderly woman made a direct approach to my car, moving with surprising swiftness. She was slender, slightly stooped, her face etched with deep wrinkles that seemed permanently ingrained. Her gray hair was confined in a loose, untidy bun, with stray strands escaping. She was clad in a faded floral dress beneath a well-worn cardigan, her slippers scuffing softly against the dirt as she walked.
Her eyes, however, were sharp—unusually so, given her appearance.
"Uh..." I opened the door and exited, raising an eyebrow. "Hello?"
"Fifty bucks for parking," she stated flatly.
I blinked. "Fifty?"
"Fifty," she reiterated without hesitation.
"That's highway robbery," I countered. "Are you serious?"
"Call the cops," she shrugged, entirely unperturbed. "Fifty bucks."
I regarded her for a moment, then exhaled slowly. Between the lack of sleep and the mounting pressures, my patience was wearing thin.
Therefore, I did not engage in further argument.
I utilized Hypnotize.
Her gaze immediately shifted, acquiring that subtle blend of pink and purple. Her posture relaxed slightly, her expression becoming vacant.
"I already paid you, correct?" I inquired calmly.
"Y-yes..." she responded, her voice now softer.
"Good," I affirmed. "Then we are concluded. Shoo."
"Of course."
I allowed the influence to dissipate. She blinked a few times, rubbing her forehead as if recalling a forgotten obligation, then turned and slowly walked away without another word.
Excellent. Another mark in favor of Monster. Damn it. But I couldn't afford to care.
Cora alighted from the car and approached my side, her gaze flicking towards the woman before returning to me.
"What did she say?"
"Eh, nothing. Simply settled the parking fee."
I closed the car door and directed my gaze back towards the road we had traveled, where that imposing house was situated somewhere behind us.
"Do you have the cameras?" I asked.
Cora nodded, patting her pocket. "I have them."
"Good," I said, taking a deep breath. "Then let us not delay."
She offered a slight nod.
Together, we began the trek back towards the house, the tranquil rhythm of the ocean waves and the gentle sigh of the wind enveloping us.
The return journey felt protracted, not due to the distance covered, but from the escalating anxiety within my chest with each measured step. To our right, the sea unfurled in consistent breakers, and the wind carried its sharp, briny essence across the confined roadway. As the house reappeared within our sightline, its dilapidated state seemed amplified upon closer inspection. The iron gate bore the marks of rust in several sections, its structure slightly askew, and the grounds beyond its perimeter were a disarray of overgrown grass and fallen branches. No illumination emanated from within, and from an external vantage point, it could easily be mistaken for a derelict structure.
"It has the appearance of being deserted," I commented softly.
Cora did not offer immediate assent. Her gaze was already sweeping over the building, moving methodically from one window frame to another, then directing its attention towards the property's boundaries. "Perhaps," she responded in a low tone, "but I would refrain from making such an assumption."
My own instincts echoed her sentiment.
Approaching the gate, I gave it a cursory trial. It was secured, as anticipated. I exchanged a look with Cora, tilting my head upwards. "We will ascend."
She conveyed her agreement with a simple nod, devoid of any hesitation.
I gripped the uppermost bar of the gate, initiating my ascent. The iron felt frigid and abrasive against my palms, emitting a faint, protesting groan under my weight that compelled me to halt momentarily. Remaining immobile, I strained my ears, but no response arose. There were no approaching footsteps, no audible conversations, nothing but the gusting wind that swept across the grounds.
I maneuvered my leg over the barrier and dropped to the ground on the interior side as silently as circumstances allowed. Cora followed suit immediately, her movements more fluid and less conspicuous than mine, her landing almost soundless. Both of us adopted a crouched posture instinctively, pausing to listen intently once more.
