It had been, as always, a restless weekend.
The Grayson family, following their familiar tradition, gathered in the backyard for their weekly barbecue—a warm ritual that stood in stark contrast to the storm brewing in the hearts of two boys tucked away in the basement below.
Sprawled lazily on an old beanbag and a half-broken couch, Tyler and Kyle exchanged looks of utter boredom.
"Hey, man," Kyle muttered, tossing a toothpick between his teeth, "you invited me to this barbecue like it was some epic thing, but honestly? It's just meat. I'm full, and I'm bored out of my damn mind."
Tyler groaned in agreement, staring at the ceiling where a single bulb flickered as though sharing their pain. "You're right, Kyle. This whole day's just... depressing. Last weekend of summer vacation, and what have we done? Nothing. Zilch. Summer just slipped right through our fingers."
Kyle scoffed. "Seriously. Not even a single memorable story. It's pathetic."
But then, Tyler sat up with a glint in his eyes—mischief awakening. "You know what would be fun?"
Kyle raised an eyebrow. "What now?"
Tyler leaned in, voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "You won't believe what I've got. You remember that creepy abandoned house deep in the woods? The one no one dares go near?"
"The haunted one?" Kyle said, now fully alert. "Dude—don't mess with me."
"I'm not," Tyler smirked. "Turns out... I have the key."
"What?!" Kyle sat up straight, eyes wide. "How the hell do you have that?"
Tyler's grin widened. "Not my key. My mom's. Apparently, that house belonged to my great-grandmother. She passed away decades ago, but there were no other living heirs. The legal paperwork finally went through last week—it now officially belongs to my mom. She doesn't even care about it. But I do."
He paused, letting the silence sink in, then added, "Wanna check it out? Who knows—there might be something valuable left behind. We could sell it. Make a little summer fortune."
Kyle jumped to his feet, all signs of boredom gone. "Hell yes! What are you waiting for? Go get it!"
"All right, all right," Tyler laughed. "Just keep an eye on my mom, make sure she doesn't come looking for me."
He bolted up the stairs two at a time, heart pounding with adrenaline. Reaching his mother's room, he rummaged through her jewelry drawer until his fingers closed around the cold, ancient iron key. It looked older than the house itself.
But just as he turned to leave—
"BOO!"
A sharp laugh cut through the stillness of the hallway.
"Ha! Coward. Did I scare you that easily?"
Tyler spun around, heart still racing from the sudden jump. Standing in the doorway, arms crossed with a triumphant smirk, was Cecilia. Her dark eyes sparkled with mischief, and in that moment, she looked far too satisfied with herself.
"Get out of the way," he snapped. "What's in your hand?" she teased, peering curiously.
"I don't have time for your games, Cecilia," Tyler growled, stuffing the old iron key deeper into his pocket.
Her smile only widened. "Wait… is that the key to the estate? The one your mother and my father were whispering about over coffee the other day?"
Tyler's jaw clenched. He moved before thinking—slamming her gently but firmly against the hallway wall with one hand, his fist clenched near her shoulder.
"You're not telling anyone. Got it?"
Instead of looking scared, Cecilia just laughed again. She tilted her head, her smirk growing more cunning. "If you take me with you," she purred, "I might consider keeping my mouth shut."
"What?" he said, pulling back slightly, confused and annoyed. "Why the hell would you want to come with us?"
Cecilia shrugged, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "I'm bored. There are rumors about that place—you know, treasure, artifacts, all that haunted house nonsense. And I never miss a chance to make money." Her voice turned honeyed, almost mocking. "You of all people should understand that, Tyler."
He sighed, already regretting this. "Fine. You can come. But bring a flashlight—and a knife. Meet us at the back gate of the garden. Don't be late."
Tyler stormed off, cursing under his breath. When he returned to the backyard, Kyle was still slouching near the grill, poking at a cold burger with the tip of his shoe.
"Hey, man. Thought you ditched me," Kyle called out.
Tyler tossed him a small flashlight and dropped his bag onto the ground with a grunt. "Got caught by the spider."
Kyle raised an eyebrow. "Don't tell me… Cecilia?"
"Yep," Tyler muttered bitterly. "That girl's too clever for her own good."
And right on cue, as if summoned by name, Cecilia emerged from behind the house, now holding a heavy-duty lantern in one hand and a gleaming kitchen knife in the other.
"Well? What are you two idiots waiting for?" she said with a smirk. "Let's move before your lovely parents realize their darlings are planning a break-in."
Kyle glanced sideways at his fuming friend. "Easy, man. Don't let her get to you."
Cecilia unlocked her old, beat-up Jeep and jumped into the driver's seat. "You two really thought you'd walk all the way there? Seriously?" she scoffed. "Get in. We'll get there faster."
Tyler muttered something under his breath, but Kyle clapped him on the shoulder. "Told you patience pays off. At least now we won't have to hike through half the forest."
The engine roared to life, headlights slicing through the early dusk. Whatever lay ahead in that forgotten house, they were speeding straight toward it—and none of them had the faintest idea what they were about to awaken.
Barely fifteen minutes had passed since they left, and the trio now stood before the estate's front gates.
The outer iron gate was already ajar, hanging crookedly from rusted hinges that groaned softly in the breeze. Ivy had devoured most of the archway, and fallen leaves blanketed the gravel path like a forgotten memory. Nature had claimed the entrance long ago.
They hesitated only briefly before pushing it open. It gave way with a shuddering creak, like a dying breath exhaled after years of silence.
As they stepped onto the overgrown courtyard, a strange tension prickled in the air. The temperature began to drop—subtly at first, then with every footstep toward the main doors, noticeably sharper.
"Hey… you guys feel that?" Cecilia asked, rubbing her arms as goosebumps rose along her skin. "It's freezing all of a sudden."
Tyler chuckled, masking his own unease. "What's the matter, scaredy-cat? You thinking of backing out now?"
Cecilia rolled her eyes. "Please. If anyone's walking away, it'll be you. Now stop wasting time and open the damn door."
The mansion's front entrance loomed before them, ancient and imposing. The door was tall and carved with intricate designs, worn from time but strangely regal. The lock—if it could even be called that—looked older than anything Tyler had ever seen. It was a round, bronze mechanism inlaid with faded etchings, like runes or symbols from another era.
With a breath, he slid the iron key into the lock. A satisfying click echoed as the tumblers moved, and the heavy door creaked open.
In that instant, every chandelier, every wall sconce, every ornate ceiling lamp in the mansion burst to life with a dim, golden glow.
The three of them froze.
Not a word passed between them for several seconds as they stared into the lit corridor of the supposedly abandoned estate.
"…What the hell," Kyle muttered. "I thought there was no power here."
Tyler cleared his throat, trying to steady his voice. "It's probably some kind of old mechanical system. Like, electricity kicks in once the door's opened. Some mansions had that… right?"
Cecilia didn't look convinced. "Maybe. But still… the lights are too dim. Doesn't feel right."
They stepped inside.
The air was thick with a scent they couldn't place—neither dust nor mold, but something old and metallic, like rusted silver or dried blood.
Their footsteps echoed across marble tiles, past velvet curtains and ancient furniture covered in embroidered cloth. Elaborate carvings twisted along the walls, depicting unfamiliar myths and symbols. Columns supported archways lined with fading murals—remnants of a forgotten civilization.
"Look at this place," Kyle whispered. "It's like stepping into a Roman villa or something. These decorations… all the silver, the marble, the art…"
"And yet," Cecilia added, brushing her hand across a table, "no dust."
They all turned as she held up her hand.
It was clean. Perfectly clean.
Kyle frowned. "Didn't you say no one's lived here for decades?"
"Exactly," she replied, eyes narrowing. "Then why does it feel like someone still does?"
Tyler raised his flashlight, pointing it toward the corners of the ceiling. "No cobwebs, either. Not a single one."
A silence settled over them again. A deep, unsettling one.
As if the house were listening.