Dimitri Mathias Lowell stood in the kitchen of his family’s farmhouse as he worked on preparing for dinner the evening. His light blue eyes glanced at a nearby window when he heard something in the distance but could not see anyone from where he stood. He was expecting company, but he wasn't exactly sure of what time she would be arriving with how the roads were. Since what happened at the end of summer, a lot had been weighing heavily on his granddaughter's shoulders. The trial of her brother’s murder came first and foremost, along with her friend’s funeral.

He had heard that the boy who shot his grandson was sentenced to seven years. This was because of his young age; afterwards, the two met for the second time since the incident. His granddaughter seemed to hold no anger towards the boy when she spoke. Her voice was even and calm. Dimitri's son, Johnathan, told him as such, that when the two youths spoke, the boy was on proper medication, he had fallen to his knees crying, apologizing profusely for his actions—saying that she had every right to kill him for what he did. In which she knelt to his level and told him.

“No one deserves to die, and it’s not like he’d come back if I did kill you. But if you are truly remorseful, that you deeply regret what you’ve done, then become a better person. Be better than what you were at that moment. Make up for what you had done with actions, not just words. My brother would want that, at least, that’s what I believe.”

It shocked many to hear, a few asked if she had forgiven him, but she did not respond. If it was due to what happened in Japan, or something she always felt, no one was certain, for she never spoke of it since.

Dimitri could understand why. There were just some things that would be too difficult to articulate verbally, especially when it was something that no one would believe.

Given his granddaughter’s abilities, he had no doubt that was the reason.

To add on top with how she had been since her return from Japan three months previously. With it now being November and, at least for where Dimitri lived, there had already been talking of snow. But as of yet, it still felt like it was autumn even as many trees still had leaves falling from them.

As he placed dinner for that night into the oven, his gaze turned back to the door when he heard someone approaching as he waited. When a shadow appeared, followed by a knock, he wiped off his hands with a hand towel and silently strode over the short distance to open the door where he came face to face with his granddaughter.

“Hi Grand-père,” she said softly with a faint shy smile.

He closed the distance and pulled his granddaughter into a tight hug, kissing the top of her head while saying. “Welcome home, my dear.” He says softly to her as she hugged him back. The two remained like that for a moment before he finally asked. “You’re early. I thought you were coming in the evening.” He paused when seeing her expression. “Was it the reporters?”

“Yeah…” she admitted. “It was just... just a lot.”

He kissed the top of her head once more, smiling he looked down at her, for he was taller than her by well over afoot. Even with his age, he didn’t seem to lose his height. “Well, better for me, I get to have more time with you.” his brown knit together as his gaze searches all around her face he then cupped gently with both hands. “You look a bit thinner; did you lose weight?”

“I have,” she admitted. “Sleep has also been… hard.”

He hugged her again. “Well, for now, come inside and get settled.” He paused his blue gaze looking to the vastness of the yard. “Where are your guards?”

“Bob is with my parents, an issue arose involving a hacker trying to infiltrate the police database, so he’s getting to the bottom of it before coming here. While Isabella is…” she turned, and his gaze followed where they could see the woman walking over to the edge of Dimitri’s land. “Checking the perimeter.”

Dimitri pulled away with an unamused look, stepped onto his porch, and called out in a booming voice. “Isabella!” the woman turned to look at them. “You do realize that's not something you need to do. Especially on foot.”

“I won't be satisfied until I've checked the perimeter myself.” She responds.

“Then at least go to the neighbour and ask for a horse! Or you’ll be out there for two days.” She merely waved in response as Dimitri sighed. “Can’t blame her for that, I suppose,” He then took the suitcase that was on the porch and brought it inside as Taryn grabbed her backpack that had her laptop and a few other things as they went back inside. As she followed him up the stairs to a room that had belonged to Taryn for as long as she could remember. “Do you want to eat or drink anything?”

Taryn shook her head. “No, I’m alright, but I’d like to help make dinner if that’s okay?”

He smiled. “It’s already in the oven, but if you want to help, you could wash the dishes while I dry them.”

“Sure,” she said without a moment to pass before they headed back downstairs and into the kitchen to help clean the dishes.

Her grandfather’s home was passed down in the family for generations. It had about five bedrooms, a renovated kitchen with a large dining room and a spacious living room with a massive bookshelf that lined one section of the wall. There was an attic used for storage and a furnished basement where a pool table, a record player and a large TV had been set up.

It gave off a 1940s bar, with a bar table and leather stools. Something that Taryn’s uncle and father enjoyed. The door that she had come through was the back door, the front entrance was near the living room.

While the land that the home was built on was also rather vast in size, she didn’t know how much in yards but knew that some of it was rented out to for farming or had been auctioned off plots for those to build homes.

Something like neighbours was few and far apart. One neighbour, a rancher, lived across from them. He and his son gave out lessons for horseback riding.

As Taryn washed the dishes, her grandfather being the drier, the two remained doing that for a moment before Taryn finally spoke in French. “Grand-père, can I ask you something?”

He glanced at her. “What is it?”

She finished handing the last dish to be dried. “It’s about what we can do. What you told me when Roy died? It happened while I was in Japan.”

He stopped mid-dry to look at her thoroughly. “And how did you feel this time?”

She looked down into the sink, where the suds were beginning to disperse. “It… it happened more than once.” She pulled the plug and allowed the water to drain, watching it go. “I was in complete control, the first time I wasn’t fully aware of it, but I was calm even with all that was around us. It was during that second time that I remembered what you told me. And I allowed it to overtake me with a sole focus in mind of what I needed to do. It didn’t bother me when I know it should.” She turned around and leaned up against the counter as her hands were braced along the edge, her eyes filled with conflict. “I believed as though there was no other outcome, yet I still felt nothing, like, all of my emotions vanished. Is that normal for us?”

Her grandfather finished what he was doing and did the same as she did while folding his arms across his chest. “It is,” he says. “I know it’s not easy to hear, but it is normal for us, for those in our family who have this trait. When we become so focused, everything else vanishes around us as though our emotions disconnect from our bodies. But it doesn’t mean that we’re dead inside or psychopathic. It just takes a while for it to come back, and when it does, it can hit like a tilde wave.”

Don't I know it. Taryn thought.

The door opened as Isabella came in, taking off her boots by the front door and placing them on the shoe rack. Only to stop when seeing them, and before the silence became awkward, Taryn spoke up in English.

“So, did you take the horse?”

“Yes.” She said as she removed her jacket. “Should have done that the first time I was here.” Taryn merely looked confused, which Isabella added. “It was after being in Paris with your extended family, like last year in the summer. And where your grandfather told me what happened after your accident.”

“Yes,” he said, his voice slightly firm. “And I took care of it.”

Taryn looked between her bodyguard and grandfather. “Was there another kidnapping attempt I wasn’t aware of?”

“Yes, and no, it never went to the media. I made sure of that.”

Probably due to his connections with his old job. Taryn thought. But then there was a lot during that time that was practically a blur to her now. Isabella then changed the topic.

“What’s cooking? It smells wonderful.”

“Duck,” Dimitri says. “It’s Duck Confit with spicy pickled raisins. I’ve also prepared a Classic Salade Lyonnaise to go alongside it. And a certain someone’s favourite pumpkin pie for dessert.” That put a smile on Taryn’s face, having a deep love for pumpkin pie.

Isabella looked interested, for she had a hobby of collecting recipes and trying them out. Those in the family, including Isaac and Bob were all willing test subjects. “Oh, may I look at the recipe?”

“Of course, you’re always welcome.”

As they set the table for dinner for the evening, the three talked about random things, with Isabella checking her cell every so often. Still, there were moments in the conversation when Taryn would falter and halt mid-sentence, her eyes going dark as though she was drawn into an unpleasant memory.

Her grandfather went over to the wine cabinet near the fridge, pulling out a bottle of wine with three glasses, which seemed to pull her out of her thoughts when he spoke.

“I know you’re not inclined to drink alcohol, but not long ago, I managed to get my hands on something special.” Her grandfather held up a bottle of wine. “Bâtard-Montrachet Grand Cru. It was the first wine your grandmother ever tried. She loved it. I thought that the next time you came to visit when you were of age, I would give you some to pair with dinner.”

“She liked a wine that had the word for 'bastard'?” she asked, her grandfather merely shrugged in response as he smiled while Isabella chuckled. “Probably good that I never came across it as a kid.”

“Even if you had, you would have understood that it’s not a word a young child should say so frivolously,” Dimitri said as he poured a glass and handed it to her. “Give it a try.”

Taking the glass from him, Taryn tried it, allowing it to sit in her mouth before swallowing it. And with a smile, she looked at her grandfather and said. “It’s not bad, although this is coming from someone who doesn’t know wine at all. So, I’m not sure if that counts for anything.”

“Coming from you, I’d say it counts.” He said as he sat back down next to her. “I’m just happy that you’re enjoying it.”

Taryn fell silent; what smile she had faded. “Grand-père?”

“Yes?”

“Thank you,” she said softly, just glad that things were just normal like any other day when she came to visit her grandfather as the other two merely smiled back and soon continued in conversation.

* * *

That night, Dimitri shot up with a start when he heard the panicked scream of his granddaughter as he quickly left his bedroom to his granddaughter’s. When he reached it, Dimitri saw Taryn sitting on the floor, with Isabella close to her side as Taryn took her asthma medication. Her body was faintly shaking as though she was freezing from the cold as Isabella kept the young woman close.

Taryn was speaking softly to herself in Japanese, saying things that he couldn’t understand. She jerked faintly before her wide blue eyes looked directly at her grandfather, as though she wasn’t too sure if he was there or not as he moved closer to her. Taryn reached out to him, placing her hand along his cheek in which he placed his other hand on her cheek as well.

After a bit of silence, Taryn closed her eyes and let out a deep breath, and after opening her eyes again, she spoke in English. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” he asked. “You had a nightmare,”

“It felt too real like I was still...” She pushed her bangs out of her face as she let out another breath and tried to stop crying. “Damn it.” Dimitri sat next to her as they both remained by her as she cleared her throat and spoke. “I’m… I’m going to the washroom for a bit.”

Her grandfather and Isabella remained sitting on the floor with only the bedroom lamp giving any source of light. “How long has she been waking up in the middle of the night like this?”

“Since the trial ended,” Isabella admitted. “She doesn’t wake up screaming all the time, but she’s completely immobilized, frozen with fear when we rush to her. As though whatever it is that scares her is right in the room with her.”

Hearing that surprised him. “Taryn’s been like that for two weeks? Not since she returned from Japan?”

Isabella shook her head. “My best guess is that she was so focused on the case that she had put it all out of her mind. Choosing to focus on the trial alone while dealing with the countless media outlets that wanted to pry into her life even further. Wanting to know more of what happened in Japan.” She ran a hand through her black hair that was currently down, while dressed in a tank top and pyjama bottoms. Her lavender eyes peered at the bathroom door down the hall. “I think it all just finally came to a head when the verdict was given. The first night she woke up screaming, we all thought the worst.”

“It hasn’t eased even with Norman’s assistance?”

“There are even things that he cannot access. Things that she refuses to go into. Whatever it was that she saw, she refuses to talk about it.”

Dimitri was silent, his expression softening when his granddaughter returned, her face faintly damp from water. “Taryn, let’s head down to the kitchen. I’m sure we could all do with a drink to warm us up to help with sleep.”

Taryn wanted to decline, but with how her mind was, she could honestly do with the company of those she was close with. She followed after her grandfather with Isabella close behind as she went to take a seat in the kitchen. Her grandfather put a kettle filled with water on the stove and took out three mugs from the cupboard as Taryn gazed out the window.

When the kettle whistled, her grandfather quickly whipped up three mugs of hot chocolate, she offered a soft thank you when taking it from her grandfather, the sweet aroma giving her slight ease before the tears began to fall.

Dimitri closed the distance and pulled her into his side while remaining standing, hand on her shoulder, not leaving her as she silently cried. “I just want it to stop.” She said after calming down and wiping her tears with the back of her hand. “But it just keeps going.”

“Have you not talked to Norman about it?” he asked when glancing at Isabella.

“I can’t, I just can’t. Norman wouldn’t be able to help me. Not with this. As much as I want to tell him, I can’t.”

The two adults were silent as they glanced at each other before her grandfather spoke. “Well, do you only have those nightmares when you’re alone?”

She nodded. “Yeah, I found sleeping next to Isaac or even the pet’s help. By having something alive next to me, it makes me know that what I’m dreaming, isn’t real.”

“Then why not sleep with me tonight?” her grandfather offered. “If it helps bring a feeling of ease for you then I or even Isabella will be more than willing to accommodate.”

She shook her head. “No, that’s okay.”

“You sure?”

“I’m sure. I did that enough at home. I can’t rely on it forever. I really should try to sleep by myself.” She said as she got up to head back to bed, pausing to look at the drink. “May I take this with me?”

He smiled. “Of course, you can. And if you ever change your mind, feel free to knock on my door.” He said as both he and Isabella remained in the kitchen as she headed back upstairs. “Goodnight, my dear.”

“Goodnight, Grand-père, Isabella.”

After a moment passed, Isabella got up next, drinking the hot chocolate that had considerably cooled by then, practically in one swig. “I’ll keep an eye on her, at least until she falls asleep.” She stopped at the foot of the stairs and looked at him. “Thank you for trying.”

When Dimitri was left alone in the kitchen, he drank all of his before cleaning up and heading to his room, hearing Isabella and Taryn’s voices as he went into his bedroom, picked up his cord telephone and dialled. Silently waiting until he listened to the other end pick up. “Evening Johnathan, I know it’s late, but we need to talk.”

* * *

For the next week, Taryn stuck to her usual morning routine. Doing exercises, going for a jog with Isabella, and practicing self-defence before returning at eight o’clock and dressing for the day in a grey quarter-sleeved turtleneck and a navy-blue spaghetti string sweetheart dress that stopped just at her knees and light blue jeans underneath.

She paused to look at her brother’s ID-Disk and the black box where it resided. The necklace she was given by an elderly man who owned a jewelry store in Japan. She had only ever worn it once when she and the others attended Robert’s funeral and placed the gold and diamond tie pin inside his coffin to be buried alongside him. His mother approved of it; his sister despised that idea and wanted to sell it.

It was later in the day when Taryn was laying down on the living room floor, her hands interlace along her stomach, when she opened her eyes for the most part in the early morning, she peered up at her grandfather as he now looked down to her with a faint smile.

“Were you able to get any more sleep?” her grandfather asked.

“A bit,” she answered as he sat on the floor next to her as she let out an exasperated sigh. “I thought I could move past this if I was here, away from everything that could remind me of what happened. Stupid, isn’t it?”

“I don’t think so, for many, going somewhere else tends to help with healing, sometimes though, those shadows can persist and follow like ghosts regardless of where a person goes to.”

She gave a short laugh. “That’s one way of putting it.” She looked at her grandfather, who remained sitting on the floor near her, his hand extending to stroke her hair as she closed her eyes, making her feel all the luckier to have such a family.

“I think I hear something buzzing.” He said suddenly as she quickly sat up.

“It’s my phone,” Taryn rushed to her cell that she had left on the kitchen table, recognizing the number she answered. “Stephanie, what’s going on?”

“Nothing really, Rachael’s with me. We thought to get away from all of the craziness going on in the city.”

“That’s a good idea, but I’m not home, so I won’t be able to join you.”

“Oh, we know.”

Taryn looked at her phone with confusion before her grandfather drew her attention. “Taryn?” she turned to look to the front door, Dimitri opened the front door as Stephanie waved with a smile while Rachael seemed slightly embarrassed and apologetic.

“Hi!” Stephanie said Taryn responded by holding up her phone with her hand pointing to it in question as she silently asked.

“Then why did you call?”

“I can’t believe you guys did this,” Taryn said as she helped bring up some of the two other girl’s belongings to one of the guest rooms that they would be sharing since it had a bunk bed. “Can’t you just me know in advance?”

“We would have,” Rachael said before looking at Stephanie with a pointed stare. “But someone wanted it to be a surprise.”

“Yeah,” her smile fell as she looked rather sheepish. “Sorry, I should have called.”

“Well, you can next time,” Taryn said. “How are you guys doing?”

“As well as we can be,” Stephanie said with a shrug. “A lot of shit dealing with the press, seeing my therapist, hanging out with my brother, trying out some gaming, thanks to you both, and giving Rachael some dieting advice.”

“Which is working,” Rachael added. “I stayed with Stephanie since you were dealing with the whole trial, and those people from the media have been bugging my family constantly. But we wondered how you were doing since we hadn’t heard anything from you since the verdict. We were worried.”

Taryn was silent.

“Did something happen?” Stephanie asked when the silence went on for too long.

“No, nothing.” She said as she headed to the hallway. “You guys get settled. When you come down, we can all have lunch together. Okay?”

“Sure,” Rachael said as Taryn smiled and left them alone to go help her grandfather.

Stephanie caught the worried look on Rachael’s face. “You think something’s up, don’t you?”

“I do, but now’s not the best time to bring that up.” She turned to her things. “Let’s just leave it for now.” She paused when Stephanie remained looking at the empty doorway. “Steph, come on, just leave her be. We can talk to her later.”

When the two came down, they were greeted with an aroma of spices and meat as Taryn and her grandfather were finishing upsetting the table. A spread of soup, bread and a salad had been prepared.

“This looks amazing!” Stephanie gaped at the presentation before looking at the two in question. “And the smell, what is it?”

“Leftovers from last night’s dinner, I just turned whatever was left of the duck and other things into a soup with some salad.”

She looked from Taryn to the girl’s grandfather and asked. “Where you a chef? Because this just smells so good.”

“No, cooking has always been a hobby of mine. As I’ve always told my sons and grandchildren, ‘If you can read, then you can cook’. Sometimes I’ll just make up recipes of what I already know, my daughter-in-law is always willing to be a test subject for my cooking.”

“She’s not the only one,” Rachael said.

“Go ahead and get started, you three, I’m just going to set up the bowls for when Isabella and Bob come back from doing another perimeter check.”

“That’s what they’re doing?” Stephanie asked as she turned to Taryn, who was already silently eating the soup.

“It’s pretty normal,” Rachael said after swallowing some bread. “It took me a bit to get used to it.”

“That could be said about a lot of things,” Taryn admitted. “I am aware it’s unorthodox, but given all that’s happened in my life, it’s pretty much warranted.”

“Still, with how protective they are, it’s also like you’re nobility or something.”

Taryn gave a faint laugh and didn’t say a word, Rachael however, spoke up after drinking some water. “She kind of is.”

Her head snapped towards Rachael. “Say what?”

Taryn remained silent. And three… two… one…

She looked right at Taryn. “Are you actually?!”

“On my Dad’s side, we’re French, and not just because my Grand-père grew up in Montrèal in his early years. Our ancestor left with his new wife from France to Canada near the end of the French Revolution. My extended family and I are on a registry in Paris, keeping track of who are decedents of nobles who had fled during that time. It’s not a big deal.”

“Not a big deal?” Stephanie repeated. “Are you joking? You have blue blood! Literally! How is that not a big deal?”

“Because it’s not.” she reaffirmed. “Yes, part of my family came from nobility, but that was well over two hundred years ago. And it’s not like I have some inheritance from it.”

That she’s aware of. Her grandfather thought while keeping his smile and sitting down across from the two girls and next to his granddaughter. “Are you interested to know what our family did?” he asked in English.

Intrigue and curiosity filled the blonde woman’s face. “Yes!”

Dimitri chuckled at the woman’s enthusiasm. “Our ancestor’s name was Adrien Sébastien Lowell, and his wife was named Gabrielle Sanson, he was originally a hunter…”

A hunter of Men. Taryn thought since she knew that Adrien’s job was to track down fugitives who would flee, or criminals who had yet to be caught and hung.

“And would often join the King who was known to be a hunter as well had been doing so from a rather young age if I recall.”

“Holy Christmas, your ancestor knew the King of France? That’s amazing.”

Taryn cast her grandfather a knowing look. He merely grinned since it wasn’t the only time a Lowell met with those of Royalty. “That’s pretty much all we know about him. We do know that he had helped some Native American Tribes when he came here and that Adrian was the only surviving son. He inherited his job at the age of thirteen when his father could no longer do so.”

Rachael looked at Taryn. “But didn’t you go to Paris last year to visit extended family?”

Taryn paused for a moment. “Yes, an extended family from Adrian’s wife’s side. Gabrielle had two older brothers. Only one of them had children, while the other died from an unfortunate accident. But she had a ton of uncles and a few aunts because her grandfather had many children. Though many don’t associate with the family name anymore because of a certain part of history that they’ve done.”

“Were they criminals?” Stephanie asked.

“No,” Dimitri said. “They were the ones who dealt with criminals in executions. Many believed that the family in question was sadistic and enjoyed it when it couldn’t be further from the truth. It’s not something that’s brought up in common conversation.”

“Well, that’s not your family now,” Stephanie said. “And if people still think that, then those people are idiots.”

“It is indeed,” Dimitri said. “But what about the two of you? Let’s hear some things about your families.”

* * *

Later that afternoon, the girls walked through the farmland that belonged to her grandfather. As Taryn showed them secret paths that they could explore as they wandered and talked as if nothing was wrong with the world as if nothing was wrong with them. Even though they knew that to an extent, it wasn’t right.

“Why the hell is it warm out?” Stephanie asked no one in particular. “It’s supposed to be snowing by now! It’s just a big mucky-muck mess!”

“Global warming,” Rachael offered as Stephanie groaned in response. They were dressed in jeans, with Rachael wearing a puffy purple and pink jacket and winter boots with her hair in a ponytail. In contrast, Stephanie wore a rather fancy long dark brown leather trench coat with impressive embroidery as her white cream silk scarf was tied around her neck, her boots were of black leather that stopped at the knee with a thick heel as her hair was pulled back with a clip. At the same time, Taryn wore a black leather jacket lined with sheep’s skin and gloves as she changed into jeans and a navy-blue turtleneck and wore the same black combat boots since they were durable and waterproof.

“Don’t remind me,” Stephanie said before changing the topic. “Say, Taryn, is all of this land owned by your grandfather?”

“I know that he sold some off to farmers years ago as did his father, even renting out land for homes to be built, but other than that, yeah. But again, I don’t know all the details.”

Stephanie didn’t seem phased by it, given her family owning several companies, it probably didn’t seem like a big issue. “Do you think all of it is from when your ancestor came to Canada?”

Taryn thought about it. “Probably, I don’t know how much land my grandfather owns, but I know that it goes up to an abandoned mine towards the mountain.”

“What about that house?” Stephanie pointed over to the clearing where an old farmhouse was. “Is that owned by your grandfather?”

Her expression changed to an unreadable one as she looked at the old abandoned farmhouse. It was made of wood and painted stark white that faded and chipped over time, but was still clearly visible in a slew of overgrown grass and vegetation that had since overtaken the land. “It was built when the land was being rented out, but no one’s lived there for years now. It’s been abandoned for as long as I can remember. It’s even one of the first places I ever explored in my early teens.”

“Did you know the people who lived there?”

She shook her head. “I was really young when they left; in fact, they left everything they owned in that place.”

Stephanie frowned. “Why?”

“To escape who they were.”

Stephanie looked back at the abandoned farmhouse. “Huh, makes you wonder what the reason for that would be? Seems kind of a shame no one has bought the place, did the house ever go up for sale?”

“A few times but no one ever bought it.” Especially when people find out who once lived there…

Stephanie glanced at the vast expanse of land that was before them. “You mentioned exploring abandoned places, so what about the mines? You ever explore there?”

“No,” she answered rather quickly. “I’m not a big fan of going into mines. For whatever reason, those kinds of places, scare me.” She paused, turned to look into the woods that was behind them and frowned. “Isabella?” she called out in a wary tone. Not even a minute went by as the woman in question stepped out of the woods dressed in a dark muted green winter coat that was done up, wearing jeans and heavy black boots while her black hair was pulled back into a low bun. “Is something going on over there?”

“Nothing to worry about, merely a trespasser. Bob and I will handle it.”

“Do we need to call the police?” Rachael asked warily.

“Already been done; however, I would suggest returning to Taryn’s grandfather’s, at least, for the time being.”

Stephanie and Rachael glanced at each other, wondering who the trespasser might have been as Taryn placed her gloved hands into her jacket pockets. “Okay, just be careful.” Taryn turned to head back the way she came with the other two following not far behind as Isabella waved them off with a smile before a mask of stoicism took its place when the three were far off in the distance as the woman headed back into the woods, where a man was left unconscious.

This man in question had a camera, a rather expensive camera that held several memory cards that contained photos of Taryn, Rachael and Stephanie. Of Taryn’s friends when they were still in the city, and of Rachael and her family.

The man knew where to start, that was for sure.

Isabella squatted down to the unconscious man. In digging through his things, she didn’t find anything that would have identified him as being part of any organization, which meant he was a freelancer. One who’d probably sell to the highest bidder for these photos to some tabloid, nothing that Isabella hasn’t dealt with before.

Everyone had to make a living somehow. Isabella understood that, but knowing how easily some turn to what could be considered a glorified version of stalking, was disturbing. It was almost uncanny how similar it was to when she was a sniper. However, something like that was different from what people like this man did. People like him would never stop.

“Now, what to do with you…” she said to the unconscious man. Isabella hadn’t lied to the girls. She had indeed informed the police, but she had every right to destroy what this man owned, including his costly camera. She removed the cards from it, had about three in total, and put them in her coat pocket to be dealt with later at another time.

Taking the camera in hand, Isabella threw it like the thing was a hefty baseball, which smashed against a rock not far from where they were. It broke with surprising ease; they just don’t make them as durable as they used to. And to make sure it could never be fixed; she nudged the remains into a very muddy stream. It was waterproof or would have been if it wasn’t smashed like it was now.

“You’ve contacted the police?” she asked into her Bluetooth earpiece.

“I did the moment you caught the creep,” Bob responded. “Notified Mr. Lowell about it too. This guy should have listened when you gave him that warning.”

Isabella didn’t respond to that. “Estimated time of arrival?”

“About ten minutes.”

“Good, when they come to pick him up, I’ll do another sweep of the area.”

“Don’t forget the horse.” He said as she made a face of annoyance and disconnected the call before he could say anything else. As she stood in the muck of early winter, she felt the wind pick up. It might just be snow given how cold it pressed against her skin. Lavender eyes looked up to the dreary grey sky. All she wanted was for them, for Taryn, to be safe. No matter what.

* * *

That night, Taryn lay in her bed with her pillow propped up along her back as she kept a book in her lap that delved into Egypt and Alexander the Grate’s history. She wasn’t reading it as much as she normally would. Anything to keep her from falling asleep and going back to that nightmare.

Then there was a soft knock on her bedroom door. She looked to the door. “Come in,” the door opened as Rachael peaked into the room.

“Hey, you doing okay?”

“I’m doing as well as I can. What about you? Are you still thinking about what happened today?”

“Kind of,” Rachael entered the room, closing the door behind herself then made the short distance over and sat on the full bed’s edge near Taryn’s legs. “I know it’s a normal thing for you, but it’s not for my family when it comes to being swarmed with media.”

“Are they still harassing your family even after what my Dad said?”

“From my brother’s perspective, it’s tapered off. But on occasion, my Mom thinks someone might be following her, my brother or Dad. It’s stressed her out, to say the least.”

“I’m sorry,”

“Hey, it’s not your fault, none of this is.” the faint smile she had fallen when seeing the look on her friend’s face. She was about to say something else when another knock came on the door.

“It’s unlocked,” Taryn said as Stephanie quietly entered the room.

“Hope I'm not intruding.” She said as she quickly closed the door. “It’s just… I woke up and… Rachael wasn’t there, so I figured, you know?”

“That's fine,” Taryn said as Rachael moved to sit cross-legged in the middle of the bed while Stephanie came to rest in her old spot. “Considering this is probably the first time we’ve been together like this in weeks.”

“It doesn’t feel all that long to me, even though it has been.” Stephanie cleared her throat. “Are you… do you guys have nightmares? About what happened?”

“A bit,” Rachael said as her gaze fell to her hands. “What I did to that woman when Taryn and I were in the tunnels? It all came flooding back; I can’t get her screams out of my head. And the sounds that their limbs made. I hear a squeaking gate, and I freak out. I have to remind myself that I’m not there. In my dreams, I still see myself locked up in a cell underground and that I never get out no matter what I try.” Rachael glanced at Stephanie. “What about you?”

Stephanie’s fingers touched the spot along her chest from where she had once been injured. “I keep dreaming about when I was shot, I wake up every time expecting to see blood. Apparently, it’s a pretty common aspect of PTSD. I didn’t even think I had it until my therapist said so. I’ve had that nightmare a lot, but it’s minor in comparison to what else I get.”

“What?” Rachael asked.

Stephanie was quiet for a moment. “It’s Robert, I dream of Robert. In some dreams, I’m chasing after him, but he’s far ahead, and I can’t reach him as he gets further and further away, just like my brother. Normally though, I just dream of it just like how it happened. Robert warning me, and I’m shot."

Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

Taryn frowned faintly.

“Wait,” Rachael spoke up. “You’re saying you saw Robert back at the mansion?”

She gave a dry laugh. “Crazy, right? My therapist says that I saw things, seeing what I wanted to see in my induced panic. But it wasn’t like that…”

“How did he look to you?” Taryn asked, knowing full well what it was that Stephanie had seen. “Was he completely visible? Or did he look see-through?”

“Fully visible,” Stephanie frowned. “You make it sound like you’ve seen this kind of thing before.”

Taryn briefly looked at Rachael before looking back at the other woman. “Remember how I said that my Uncle took Rachael and me on a trip? We stayed in Ashford Castle for three nights. Rachael went wandering around the grounds one night, where she ran into a woman dressed in white. The thing is, this woman wasn’t even alive.”

Stephanie’s head snapped to Rachael, who now smiled out of nervousness. “You saw a ghost?”

“That castle isn’t known for hauntings,” Taryn said. My Uncle and I thought it’d be safe. “But then, if you head to an old place, there is always a chance of seeing something you normally wouldn’t.” her gaze when to Stephanie. “So, what you saw isn’t necessarily uncommon. I think Robert did that to warn you, in his own way.”

“I guess you weren’t kidding when you guys said you’ve been through something like this before,” Stephanie said softly. Her dark blue gaze shifted between the two young women before her gaze landed on Taryn. “What about you? You’ve had them too, right?”

Taryn was silent, her gaze resting upon her own hands. “I’m not back there, back in the mansion. Instead, it follows me.”

“The Doll?” Rachael asked, her tone warry as her body went tense.

“Yes,” Taryn said rather softly as her gaze looked across the room, past the two and towards the wall where there was nothing but a window. “Where it comes to drag me back…” What she didn’t say, or couldn’t say, was that this version of the Doll was much more twisted in its appearance. Having an extra set of limbs that were elongated like a spider. And where the hair covered most of the face, where an assortment of eyes peaked out from those ink-black strands. Its jaw was unhinged with rows upon rows of sharp teeth. As its clothing was torn and its joints dripped with blood.

Like a monster right out of Dark Souls.

Just thinking about it made her feel ill.

She had yet to tell anyone, but it was because of this that she was in the process of acquiring a permit for a gun, given she had to be the legal age of eighteen. And with all the shit that had happened in her life, it made logical sense in doing so. Same for her physical self-defence, she never stopped practicing, but now she wanted to become stronger and hone her skills whenever she would be on her own in a fight.

“You’ve never dreamt of being in the Mansion?”

Taryn faintly shook her head. “No, I think because if I did, my mind would know that it isn’t real. But if it’s just him, if it’s just the Doll, then it’s a different story.”

The two fell silent, clearly unsure of what to say after that.

“Are you both having trouble sleeping?” Taryn asked. “If you’d want, you both can sleep here tonight. I found that sleeping next to others helps fight off the nightmares, though what works for me might not for you both.”

Rachael didn’t even take a moment to think about it. “Sure, I’m willing to. My cat’s been sleeping near me ever since I came home. I bet you that she knows.”

“I’m probably not as good as a cat,” Stephanie said. “But, I’m willing to try almost anything besides sleeping pills if it means I can avoid those nightmares for a while.”

That night the three of them made a bit of a pact while they were here. If either or all of them had nightmares, then they would join with someone to try and sleep to fight off those nightmares. It might not work, but it was still worth a try.

* * *

One week had gone by since Rachael and Stephanie unceremoniously stayed with her at her grandfather’s home. Even though Taryn would have liked for them to have at least asked in advance about coming by, she was rather glad to be spending time with them after what felt like ages since all the events took place when they had returned to Canada.

However, another visitor would also make a surprise visit to see her when she slept alone in her room.

“Taryn? Taryn, wake up.”

Taryn rolled on her side to look up and see someone she didn't expect. “Dad? What… what are you doing here?”

“I came to see you,” he said as he knelt down while she turned on the lamp, seeing that he was fully dressed to deal with the winter’s cold outside making her even more confused while she leaned slightly and looked at her clock.

“At five in the morning? What’s going on?”

“You and I will be going somewhere today, get dressed and bring your camera.”

Taryn looked at her father with a frown but did so without question, wondering why her Dad was here. She had spoken to him over the phone a few days ago but had only mentioned coming by to see her soon, nothing about arriving at such an early time.

As she got up to change, she glanced out the window seeing how light everything was with the full moon with how there was a substantial amount of snow blanketing the ground, making everything visible to the naked eye. Snow fell for the past several days, so much to the point that schools had been closed.

Once Taryn was dressed in a long-sleeved dark grey turtleneck and a button-down red sweater, thick leggings under dark blue jeans and thick socks, she headed downstairs to see her Grandfather dressed in brown slacks and a white dress shirt for the day while serving breakfast. That was something she didn’t expect but wasn't surprised by it either. This was something that both men had planned. After eating a large breakfast, making it clear to her that wherever they would be going would be necessary.

“I’ll let your friends know where you’ve gone,” Dimitri said as she put on her black leather jacket lined with sheep’s skin, gloves, and dark red scarf and boots. He then kissed her cheek before moving away. “Be safe out there.”

“I will,”

“We’ll be back probably in the afternoon,” her Dad said, leaving to the front door rather than the back. Taryn gave a confused look to her Grandfather, who merely smiled and shrugged as Taryn followed after.

He was across the road where two horses hitched to the wooden fence, geared up and ready to ride.

“I take it wherever we’re going is not road-friendly.”

“It’s far, going on horseback is the quickest since it’s on the property.” He says as she checked the reigns of both.

“So that’s why Grand-père was talking with Leon yesterday, I was wondering about that…” she looked to her Dad. “When was the last time we went horseback riding?”

“With your Mother, about three years ago.”

“Man, that feels like forever,” she said softly to herself before eyeing her father. “So then, why isn’t she here?”

“Because this is just something between you and me,” he says as she gets on the back of one horse, adjusting her shoulder bag with her camera inside.

Taryn’s gaze then fell on the brown horse that would be her ride throughout this. “Dad, what’s the horse’s name?” Her father hoisted himself onto the back of the black one before sighing in what she could only believe to be a disappointment. “Something wrong?”

“No, it’s just, the names, the black one is named Roach, while the one you’re riding is named Callus. Just what kind of names are those to give to a horse?”

Taryn stifled a laugh.

“What?”

“Nothing; it’s just that those names are horses from games I’ve played, you’ve joined me for one of them.”

“Ah, right.” Then added rather dryly. “They’re still awful names.”

She laughed again before looking back to her father with a slight twinge of concern. “Where are we going, Dad?”

“You’ll see, come on.” Then road off ahead.

“You’re not going to tell me?” she called out as she galloped after him.

“Nope!” he calls back.

Taryn let out a sigh of her own, she wasn’t all that up for surprises, but coming from her father, she knew it was something important. When giving a surprise, or anything significant, he was a man that meant something important.

Maybe we have dinosaur bones on the property, she thought to herself. That’d be cool. She looked down at the horse. “Alright, Callus, let’s see how fast you can go.” Flicking the reigns and digging in her heels, she urged the beast to move forwards, it took a bit of prodding, but the horse finally made its way after as she led Callus to follow after the other horse’s tracks in the snow, riding past trees and brush.

Her gaze would go upward when she noticed how the sky looked to be lit ablaze. It was beautiful to see. She never knew why, but seeing a sunrise brought her a great sense of peace, while a sunset, on the other hand, gave her a feeling of wariness and unease. Because with it, she knew sleep would be upon her, and with it, the same nightmare.

She was tried.

Tried of having to be reminded over and over of the events that took place three months ago, ones that refused to let go like shadows clinging to the soles of her feet.

Maybe that was the point of this, something different to break away from her life’s sameness, though she was far more used to her Uncle doing something like this rather than her father. Still, even with how out of the blue this was, it was welcomed nonetheless.

She inhaled the crisp cold air of winter mixed with the trees’ dampness as the horse slowed down to a steady trot. He went really far ahead. She thought, seeing the horse tracks in the snow. Just how far do we have to go? Digging in her heels, she urged Callus to pick up the pace to catch up to her father while following the horse's tracks.

She urged Callus to go faster; her father couldn’t be that far ahead. “Come on,” she to the horse as it now sped through the snow and woodlands, leaping over what looked to be a low stone fence. She frowned, which seemed to have been at least a few decades old, adding to the fact that there was now a path. “What is this place?” she whispered to herself while following the tracks before, finally catching sight of her father, who was waiting for her and began to pick up speed on his steed when he did.

“You took your time,” he said in a joking way.

“I’m not as strong as you when urging a horse. I have girly feet.”

He chuckled. “‘Girly feet,’ I’ll remember that the next time we’re sparing with some of the men, they always complain that you kick too hard.”

She scoffed at that remark. “Have they seen how you kick? You're probably as strong as that horse you’re riding.”

He replied with a booming laugh.

“By the way, Dad,”

“Yeah?”

“Stephanie knows about our family history.”

“How much?”

“She knows about Adrian and the fact that our roots were of nobility.”

He was silent for a moment. “That’s all?”

She didn’t respond right away. “Yeah, both she and Rachael know that, but nothing else. She’s not aware of what I can see.”

“You think if she did, you’d be able to trust her?”

“After all that we’ve been through, I do. But I don’t think I’ll tell her. At least not right now. Though it was kind of funny seeing her reaction about our ancestor knowing the King of France before the Revolution took place.”

“Then she’d be in for a shock if she learned your grandfather met the King of England before he passed, and the Queen with your Uncle.” Both her Grandfather and Uncle were knighted after doing certain spectacular deeds in honour of the Crown, but such a ceremony was done secretly without the public's wherewithal.

The only other person that Taryn knew was Olivia’s father; he was given honours and several medals. Since at the end of the second world war, Olivia’s father became the Squadron leader in the Canadian Airforce, which was the equivalent of a Major when the departments merged not long after World War Two ended.

“Taryn, if you were to pick a place to travel, where would you want to go?”

That sudden question brought her pause. “I’m not thinking of going anywhere any time soon, but maybe I’d go to Egypt or Greece. The history is vast, and I think it’d be wonderful to see and explore the ruins.”

“You sure? Given what you have?”

“If anything, I’d probably find a tomb, that’s something that I would be proud of.”

They continued with small talk for the next thirty minutes as the sky now became a sharp blue that matched her and her father’s eyes until her father stopped his horse.

“Alright, from here we continue on foot.” He said as he hitched his horse to a nearby tree.

“How much farther do we need to go?” she asked while her father gently took her horse’s reins and hitched it next to his.

“Not far,” he said as she climbed off the back of the horse. She looked around silently, nothing looked remotely familiar, yet somehow it did. Weird.

Then she noticed something peaking from above the treetops causing her to frown. Her father gave a faint smile before leading the way on a cobbled path with large trees lining both sides, as a cast-iron gate soon stood before them. This imposing gate was locked with a thick padlock, her father pulled out an old-fashioned key and unlocked it as he let Taryn enter before locking the gate again when they were both past the outside entrance.

This long cobblestone path with large trees on either side leads to a historic home, or rather a mansion.

This mansion held a mix of French Baroque and a bit of French Colonial with its architectural design. It was not as decked out as many of France’s buildings where it held its significant influence. Something which Montréal also had for its amount of people whose ancestors were originally from France that fled when the French Revolution took place, fearing what would happen if they remained.

Regardless, the building was a marvel, and also somewhat familiar. Then it clicked where Taryn had seen this place, and what it was.

“This is the family home, the original family home that Adrian built when he left France with his wife.” She cast her father a sideways glance when he merely looked at her in turn. “You told me the whole place burned down over a hundred fifty years ago.”

“That was only said to keep those who were greedy away. Several of your cousins have been shunned, tossed out from the family for how they’ve acted. It’s why you don't see much of your great-aunt’s children and a few of their grandchildren anymore. Many believed that they were entitled to everything, regardless of what those who would own said item thought. With even a few sending death threats to us when you were born. They can’t access this land unless they trespass. And if they trespass, they’ll get arrested with jail time and a hefty fine.”

It still didn’t answer her question. “Why are we here?”

“I thought you’d like to make a video about this place, of course, you can’t give the location, but I just thought it could be something that we could do together since it’s been a while since you last made a video exploring somewhere.”

She looked at her camera before looking back at her father. “Besides this being our ancestral home, is there anything else I should know about it?”

“It’s protected under UNESCO’s World Heritage Site, so unless you have a key, you don’t get access no matter who you are.”

“I take it some have tried,” she then looked at her camera once more. “I think I’ll just take some pictures; with my videos of abandoned places, a lot of people would want to find it for themselves.”

“Fair enough,” he then unlocked the door and stepped inside, yet she remained where she stood looking up at it. Causing her father to pause in the doorway. “Something wrong?”

Her eyes fell on her father. “There’s another reason why people don’t come here,” she said with a matter-of-fact tone. “How many people died here, Dad?”

He stepped back outside. “A few, but only one remains, and he won’t harm us.”

“Lucky us then,” Still, she hesitated. “I feel like I’ve been here before,”

“Because you have. There’s also a graveyard on this property. It’s not used anymore but many of our ancestors have been laid to rest there. You were there last year.”

“Before we went to Paris.” She added. “I remember feeling like someone was beside me before we left that graveyard.” Her gaze went back up to the top of the mansion, she knew it wasn’t like the one in Japan, but the mere comparison remained present in her mind.

Her gaze soon rested on her father’s gloved hand that he had extended to her. She took his hand being drawn inside this mansion that should have been lost to time.

As the door closed, her father took out a flashlight giving some semblance of light in a place that had not been outfitted with modern technology. Followed with that, there was even a mat placed in the entryway as her father pulled out slippers for them to wear.

The windows were shuttered, keeping all forms of light or anything else at bay from the inside. As old as this place was, the interior was meticulously maintained—with much of the furniture covered in sheets to keep the dust off.

Even with everything mostly covered, the interior was just decretive as the exterior.

Dark wood that had been stained still had a slightly glossy look to it. The wallpaper, which had not been changed, held an old historic feel. As the sound of a chime went off, startling Taryn as her head snapped to see an old, rather impressive, pendulum clock that was built into the wall of the main entrance. And to her surprise, it was keeping to time. It was about a foot or so taller than her father, given that her father was well over six feet in height.

Her father removed his boots and stepped further into the house while his daughter merely remained where she stood, still absorbing all that she was seeing—understandably given that she had been told that this place had been gone for years previously. It took Johnathan time to adjust as well when his father brought him here many years ago.

Placing on slippers, Taryn entered the home, her gloved hand resting along the top of one of the nearby chairs as her gaze went to what wasn’t covered with cloth.

She decided to take several photos, the first being of the large pendulum clock and some rather impressive paintings.

“How many rooms are there on this floor?”

“About eight or so, there’s the main room, the lounge, the parlour, the dining room, a library that extends into a second floor, including a large kitchen and rooms for servants. Upstairs there are about nine rooms. Six are bedrooms, one is a bath, another is a private study that connects to the upstairs library.”

Taryn wanted to comment on how hard keeping others away from this place would be, but when her gaze caught something in a mirror that was atop a fireplace in the dining room.

There was someone else here, someone dead. Watching the two from a distance.

“There’s a man here with us,” Taryn said, as her eyes remained glued on the large mirror as the ghost of the man slowly made his way to stand behind her. “He’s tall, about an inch or two shorter than you, with a fit build. He’s dressed in clothing from the mid to late 1800s with pale skin, brown hair, a bit darker than mine, tied back into a ponytail and… his eyes. His eyes are just like ours.” She glanced at her father for a brief moment before looking back at the man in question. “He’s Adrian Lowell. Isn’t he?”

Her father nodded as Adrian’s stoic face changed to that of a smile. His gaze became warm as he looked at her. Then, when she blinked, he was gone.

“He’s what keeps others at bay.” Her father said as he rested a hand on her shoulder. “He guards this home against those who wish to do harm or steal. I know this because after I came here, one of my aunt’s daughters tried to break in and steal something. Before she was promptly thrown out an open window. She didn’t die, but she had to be hospitalized for a time and couldn’t remember what she was doing. She has no memory of the event. Yet the image of him will never leave my mind; he was physically there. To the point where he looked as real as you or me, he looked like he wanted to break her neck.”

“Why did she try to break in?”

“Because she wanted money, it didn’t matter what it was. She just thought she could sell it off for a high price. Several of my aunts no longer keep in contact with most of their children because of this. Even wrote many of them out of the will to make sure they get nothing. When one of my aunts lost her husband, most of their children just wanted to know what was left for them, they didn’t even care about the deceased. It was a shit show.”

Taryn knew several great-aunts. Her Grandfather was the youngest of eight children, seven of whom lived to adulthood. Out of the seven, six were women who all went and married going by different last names. She recalled meeting at least three of them when she was little.

Though their children, Taryn’s first cousins once removed, were not as pleasant to deal with.

One of these hostile family members openly wished that Taryn should end up dead at the age of four so as not to split the inheritance any further before being physically thrown out by Taryn’s Grandfather. This was after something that Taryn couldn’t even recall, probably because of what happened with her Mother’s sister.

The woman was cut out of the family and eventually spent time in jail for harassment and stalking. Taryn’s second cousins, however, were more like their grandparents, open, caring, and not giving a damn about inheritance or money. Just loving those that they genuinely cared for.

“I can imagine. Why is the majority of our family so fucked up like that? I still remember Jacob telling me that his Dad shaved down his eyeteeth because his father thought it was shameful to have. Like he was possessed by a demon.”

“Honestly, sweetie, I have no clue. Everyone can turn out differently, even if they had the same childhood as their siblings.” He then changed the topic slightly. “Speaking of, anything new from Jake?”

“It’s been a while, but last time we spoke, he told me that he was moving to British Columbia, and cutting out his parents from his life. He plans on marrying his boyfriend and deciding if they want to get a surrogate or adopt. He does wish us well, though, and was sad he couldn’t come to the funeral. He also said, “If my crazy fucking parents even try to pull anything at the funeral, shoot them.” I can’t remember if they showed up.”

“They didn’t, many of them never saw Roy as family.”

Bastards. “Dad?”

“Yes?”

“If I do die before you or Mom, make sure they never see a goddamn thing. People like them don't deserve anything.”

Her father didn’t respond to that. Instead, he wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her into his side and offered her a smile. “Come on, let me show you around and be a glorified tour guide for at least an hour or more. But before I do that, I need to take you somewhere first. Okay?”

She smiled in turn. “Sure, lead the way, Dad.”

As her father took the lead, he went on to explain more about the house’s history and why it was left hidden from the world after the first world war.

The reason was because of Taryn’s great-grandmother, Joséphine Caitlín Delacroix-Lowell. The farmhouse that Taryn’s Grandfather lived in now originally belonged to Joséphine’s family. And since she could see into the future, she predicted that the family would ultimately destroy themselves over the fortune and mansion. So, they managed to make it look like a fire had burned it down with everything inside. How it was achieved wasn’t known.

When word got out, several family members who married into the family showed their true colours and were subsequently cut out of the family—no longer trusted with the mansion, the wealth, or family secrets. Now only a select few knew the truth of the family’s history and origin. And it intended to remain that way.

Hell, one of Taryn’s middle names, was in honour of her great-grandmother.

Still, having to keep such things from the world, her abilities, her family history, and this mansion. Eventually, it’d come out.

“With this place being protected, does that mean it’ll eventually be revealed to others?”

“There’s a plan to make this home into a museum, with our family history, it made the most sense, but that won’t be for at least several years. Until then, it’s private property. And when it is, all the most important things, such as books, jewelry, historical clothing and certain paintings were put into a vault that we have prepared.”

She stopped short when hearing that. “Wait, clothing? There’s actual clothing that’s survived over two hundred years?”

“And is looked after extremely well, remember when you and many of us dressed up in clothes from the 1700s with our extended family while we were in Paris? Several articles of clothing were patterned after what was found here and sent over in advance for our tradition.”

“That makes way too much sense now, no wonder Marie was so adamant about me dressing up. And here I thought it belonged to them.” just thinking how her cousin did that with such ease still astounded her, even though her cousin (though they were distantly related) was rather tall, as tall as Taryn’s father. But then Marie-Josèphe Beaumont was always a bit of a wildcard.

“Was this before, or after she hauled you on a horse and rode to the Palace of Versailles like a madwoman?”

“Ugh, don’t remind me…” She then changed the topic at hand. “Though speaking of which, I’m surprised Mom’s family never spoke up, given all that’s here.”

“They know some of our family’s history, but not to such a far extent as your Mother. Besides, the compact you have is significant to your Mother’s family. It’s protected family members for as long as anyone can recall.”

“I remember, Mom said that it’d keep me safe in more ways than one when she gave it to me. It surprised me given how much of a skeptic she is regarding things involving the dead.”

“Just because your Mother is a skeptic of all things supernatural, does not mean she would put things like that above your safety. It all goes out the window if you’re hurt. Both your mother and my brother were about to throttle your Mom’s sister for even leaving you alone in her home with Roy and Isaac when you three were so young after you were hurt.” He told her while opening a door.

That was a time she could barely remember. She wasn’t sure if it was because she was older or, for the most likely reason, because her mind blocked most of it out.

As they entered a room that was the first-floor library, almost every wall had a tall, imposing bookshelf all lined with books. The walls that didn’t have shelves were covered by a painting or two. The room also had a spiral staircase connecting to what was an upstairs library and tall windows that could let in so much natural light.

Her father opened the currents for one of these windows before sitting down in a dark velvet green chaise with a dark wood finish. He sat on the end while he motioned for her to sit with him where she would be where the arm/headrest would be.

The moment she had done so, the two fell silent. Taryn’s gaze went from him to the now visible outside, where she could see the treetops as snow began to fall anew.

That silence was soon broken when her father spoke, his tone weighted with a feeling she couldn’t describe off the top of her head. Her father rested his elbows on his knees as he stared out to the winter expanse before them as he did so.

“When I came back home after being in a warzone, none of it felt real. I felt like there was going to be an attack at any moment while I stood in that crowded airport. Out in the open with no weapon or cover to protect me, surrounded by too many people. I was on edge. And it’s something I still get from time to time to this very day. It’s something your Grandfather, your Uncle, Isaac and… Roy had to cope with, and still do. Just because we return home from war does not mean that we’re “back” at least in the mental sense.” Johnathan glanced at his daughter. “And I know that’s what you’re going through. You’re still there, aren’t you.”

“Yes, but so are Stephanie and Rachael, we’re all like that. It’s just affecting us differently.” Taryn admitted. “When I talk about some of what happened with Norman, even though I want to tell him everything, I just can’t say it. Like it’s stuck in my throat no matter how hard I try.”

“Why do you think that is?”

“Because I’m afraid.” She said as she gazed out into the endless forest. “I’m afraid that if I tell anyone, people are going to die. And I don’t want that. What I saw was horrible, and what happened there still scares me, even now. The nightmares I’ve had? It involves someone from that place, climbing up to me, with the intent of… taking me away, back to the mansion. But I always wake up at that part.”

He was silent for a moment. “I will admit that I am not the best source of knowledge when dealing with the supernatural. But I am when it comes to dealing with an aftermath of a horrible event that leads to trauma.”

Her gaze remained locked on him, his expression, his eyes. And the seriousness behind them. This was her father. Open and honest.

“Your Grandfather brought me here a few days after I returned. He did the same with your Uncle. Then I did the same with Roy and even Isaac, albeit at a different place for him when they returned.”

She looked at him, confused by this. “Why?”

“To talk. Like what we’re doing now.” His blue eyes looked out to the expanses of the forest, one that, from where they were, seemed to go on forever as the cold November wind rattled the windows and swayed tree branches. “To say whatever it is you want to say, no filter or fear of being judged, just simple honesty. To get it all out with no bias holding you back. To scream it if you want to.”

Taryn swallowed hard. “I don’t know if I can…”

She really didn’t.

“I know,” he continued when she looked at him with a frown for his admittance. “You’ve had to contain everything about your life within yourself. About what you see, and what you feel from it, the emotions people leave behind. Even with Norman’s help, it’s still been hard on you.” He looked at her, merely looking at her features. “When I was in the Army, I had to crush my emotions. I couldn’t let them control my actions. I had to do what I was told without asking why. I had to fight my nature when listening to those orders. It took me a long time to get those back. And in a way, it was thanks to your Mother for helping me bring them out again. Along with you when you were born.”

He then paused, looking at his hands as if recalling something.

“Back when you were fifteen and had collapsed in school, and the reason for it, I was angry. It was the second time I ever felt so angry in my life. The first was your kidnapping.”

Makes sense. “Why were you angry that second time?”

“I was angry that you had to witness such a horrible thing, before finding the body. I know it wasn’t the first horrible memory you’ve seen in your life through another’s eyes, but I so badly wanted to break those who did it for what you had seen. And for what they did to that girl. I also know you wanted to hurt them, even though you’d never say it.”

She flinched and turned her head away before her father gently tilted her head to look back at him with his index and middle finger.

“There’s no shame in it.” He tells her. “None for what you were feeling. And those who did it, they will never get out. Never.”

“But I shouldn’t have even had those thoughts, to begin with.”

He shook his head. “It’s human nature to want revenge in the heat of the moment. To get back at those who did such a horrible thing.” When she remained silent, he added. “Do you think I wouldn’t do something like that? Or even your Grandfather? Your Uncle? Your Mother? Roy? Or even Isaac, Isabella or Bob? Anyone you hold dear? People have and will hold a desire for revenge; it all depends on how you act with those feelings.”

“Would you ever act on it?” she asked.

“Depending on the circumstances.” He tells her, his voice flat. “You’ll never know how you will act until it happens. Similar to “Flight, Fight or Freeze.” Every person is different. Some will run, some will freeze, some will fight.”

Silence fell between them.

She took a few breaths, as though she struggled to breathe, fighting back the urge to cry. “I don’t… I don’t know if I made the right choice.” She admits to him. “I…” she squeezed her eyes shut and grasped his right hand with her left. “Dad… did you really mean what you said? That I can say anything? And you won’t get mad?”

He squeezed her hand back. “Don’t hold back.”

She took a shaken breath. “I wasn’t truthful when I first talked to you about what happened… in the mansion. I did stab someone but… he… he was just the first. There was also another…”

Her father said nothing, merely waited.

“But… if I tell you. I need to tell you everything. It’s going to be hard to believe, more so than normal.”

“Go ahead. I told you, Taryn, no need to hold back.”

She took another shaky breath. “Then I’ll start at the beginning. No filter.”

He squeezed her hand again. “Take as long as you need.”

Closing her eyes, she opened her mouth and began to tell her father everything. Her interactions with Robert at the airport, seeing the notice of a reporter gone missing in Tokyo, the need to change their hotel room, of Stephanie and her chatting at the bar—receiving jewelry for free from the man at one peculiar jewelry store.

When they arrived at the village, the mansion, having an unsettling feeling about the place while getting lost. The blood-red Hydrangeas.

Meeting Toya. The scattered notes. June. The missing people. Yoko. The hidden underground village. Robert's death. The Doll.

Everything.

“I still question it,”

“You mean the people that were turned into dolls?” her father asked.

“Yeah, it’s something I can’t wrap my head around. There were others, so many other people who were like that, just unable to move in a room where June led me. She… along with the others; wanted to die. Toya didn’t have any desire to, at least, I think. He knew that I didn’t want to fight him, and he still… but with these people, it was different. They just wanted to die. They wanted to end it. But were unable to do it on their own. So, they asked me. And I did… I… I killed them.” she bit out those words, her throat feeling hoarse from talking so much. “I burned them… alive.”

She took a few short breaths before continuing.

“The thing is, I don’t even know if it worked. I didn’t wait to find out. I couldn’t stay in that room. I just wanted to go home. And yet I massacred those people, I… I willingly killed them through arson. I burned them alive, Dad…” The tears began to fall as she looked at him in horror, as though the reality of her actions finally struck home. “I killed all of those people. I murdered them. What right did I have to do that? They were alive. They still had a say in it. What if… what if there was someone who… who didn’t want that? That I ignored it and…” her throat became tight, unable to get the words out. “Even before that, I thought I was faced with two options. I wonder what would have happened if I didn’t decide to face Toya.”

“Why did you?”

She laughed, a harsh, bitter one directed towards herself. “Because I let Toya’s words get to me, and I pictured it. I pictured it in my head. Seeing you, Mom, everyone… dead. Dead at his feet. I felt that… that if I didn’t take a stand right there, he would have kept to his word and done something horrible to all of you to get to me.” She scoffed at her own thoughts. “I play the fucking hero and look where it gets me… it makes me wonder what would have happened if I just said “fuck it” and leave. Even before all of that, when Robert and I left those tunnels. Then, maybe, Robert wouldn’t be in the ground.”

The wind picked up for a slight moment, sending snow flurries about outside.

“I know thinking the “what ifs” do nothing. But it’s always been on my mind since then.” Her hands balled into fists in her lap. “That if I didn’t do this, that if we made a run for it, no one would have died.”

She looked to her father to see if he would say anything, but he remained silent and waited true to his word, expecting her to continue. So, she did.

“I feel like they died because of me. It’s my fault that Robert was killed. That both Stephanie and Rachael were hurt, I made a stupid decision and nearly died myself.” She closed her eyes from the scenery and looked down at her feet, hiding her face. “Even now, I can still see it. I can still feel it, stabbing Toya repeatedly. Over… and over… and over… and over… and over again. But I’m not even sure if it… if it worked. Like with the fire to the others that he had done this to. What if he’s somehow still alive? Part of me feels that way with what he is. Or was or… shit, I don’t know.”

For a moment, she stopped realizing that she was now gripping her father’s hand in a death grip with both of her own. When she was about to let go, to move away, only for him to pull her close.

Her shoulders shaking before finally subsided as she hugged him tightly. Her gloved hands pressed hard against his back as a sense of ease slowly came over her.

And after a long moment of silence, he asked her while keeping her embrace. “Do you want to continue?”

Slowly Taryn opened her eyes she used the back of her hand to remove the tears before answering. “I’m afraid that I’ll never move past this, Dad. This feeling I have, I don’t want to live in constant fear, with the anxiety and sadness and the countless nightmares that come with it. But I just don’t know what to do.”

“Then why not write it?” her father offered as she looked at him with a frown. “Write it down like you would with one of your stories. You wouldn’t even have to show anyone. Write it for you and no one else.”

“Do I even have the right to?”

“Taryn, you have every right.” He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her into him once more. “In regards to that feeling, of seeing it again and again behind closed eyes, I can understand. There’s something your Grandfather told me that always stayed with me. “Taking a life can be difficult; living with it is even harder. Especially when you know, it’s something other than self-defence.” But in life-or-death situations, you never know which is the right choice. You do what you must to survive. Even when your back is against the wall, as unpleasant as it is, you fight to live…”

“Go for the throat.” She finished. “You, Uncle Gerald and Grand-père said that to me before, after Roy’s funeral. I recalled it along with what Grand-père said when I fought Toya. I don’t remember anything else at that moment except repeatedly stabbing him in the fight. It’s blurred together in one big motion.” She looked at her father. “Dad, do you have this trait?”

This was a question that had never come up between them until now, she knew that her Uncle and Grandfather had this trait, but never asked if it was the same for her father. His answer surprised her.

He smiled. “I thought I did once, it was when you were two, you, your mother, me and my Dad, your grandfather, went to Transylvania where something happened, I thought I felt something as was described as this family trait but besides becoming hyper-focused on what I needed I still remained the same. So no, I’m probably the only one out of our immediate family who doesn’t. A trigger is what causes this trait to manifest, but it never happened to me. Your Uncle has it, same with my father, as did your great-grandfather, but none of your great-aunts have it, nor their children, or grandchildren that we know of. Which made it all the harder for me to squash my emotions and to bring them back when coming home from the battlefield.”

“I never knew…” she said softly. “It makes it sound like we’re monsters, doesn’t it?”

“You’re not a monster, Taryn.”

She looked at him skeptically. “Dad, if people knew of our history and my abilities, I think they would see me as a monster.” She paused, her eyes going dark as if recalling something long ago. “But then, Monsters are People just as much as People are Monsters. It’s an endless cycle, and it’s scary.”

“Then do you hate the man who did this?” her father asked, changing the topic back, snapping Taryn out of whatever thought she was in.

“I don’t know,” Taryn admitted. “I just… there are moments that I recall Toya being a good person, that he genuinely cared, but then I think of all that he had done in contrast. I still hold mixed feelings about it. He did so many horrible things and manipulated countless people, yet I don’t think I hate him.”

“Then what do you feel?”

“I was afraid, at first, when I learned the truth. But then, I just felt sorry for Toya, that becoming what he was drove him to that madness. That he didn’t want to feel alone. I know I can’t forgive what he has done. I never will. I just can’t think what it would’ve been like. Finding out that you’re practically unable to die and be all alone as everyone else you love ages around you while you remain the same? How horrifying would that be?”

“Probably one of the worst things in the world. I imagen. It’s not like that in books, is it?” when Taryn looked at him confused, he reiterated. “So many people talk about how great something like being unable to die and remaining youthful would be, but they don’t even think about the repercussions for it, like what if you can’t grow back a limb? Or unable to move? Or heaven forbid being unable to buy a decent bottle of beer because you look like a teenager?”

She snorted at his attempt at being funny. “That’s because it’s fiction Dad, no one cares about stuff like that in a story.”

He folded his arms across his chest, clearly dissatisfied. “Well, I think they should have some realism in there, living forever isn’t all that it’s cracked up to be. Fiction writers should do more than just mention how many abs a dude has with a shit personality with the mind of a brick or how deep some girl’s eyes are with either large boobs or complain she has no boobs, who clearly need glasses to see just how toxic the relationship is.” Then he said something she didn’t expect. “If you ever ended up dating some dick like that, I’d rightfully kick the bastard through a brick wall before arresting his sorry ass.”

Taryn found herself laughing at her Dad’s apparent attempt to lighten the mood, sensing that she, currently, had nothing more to say, despite how she initially felt. Yet now, after talking for hours on end with her father, she felt… better. As though some of what weighed on her shoulders had eased somewhat. It was all gone, of course, but being as open as she had, gave her some clarity to think things through.

Then her father asked. “Do you think you might be able to speak with Norman about this now that you’ve talked with me?” he asked, eyeing her carefully, making sure that she was indeed a bit better. “That is if that’s what you want.”

“Not right now, but I will.” She answered him honestly. “Though it’s going to be a pretty long session if that’s the case. I should tell him to make extra space on his recording device for when, or, if I do. Hey, Dad?”

“Yes?”

She leaned over and gave her father a much-needed hug. “Thanks for bringing me here. I really needed it.”

He hugged her tightly in turn. “I’ll always help whenever I can.” He says softly. “And, if you ever find yourself wanting to come back here to talk, just let me know.”

“I will,” then she hesitated. “Do you think I should tell Mom?”

“Do you want to, is the question.”

She frowned, eyes moving in thought. “I’m not sure, part of me wants to. Hell, to tell the world even, but who’d believe me?”

He looked at her straight. “You know I do, and your Mother would too if you decided to tell her. Same with everyone else who knows about what you have. They wouldn’t doubt you for a second in what you saw.”

“The rest of the world wouldn’t,”

“Then screw them, forget the whole world and focus on who matters most to you.”

She looked at him with an arched stare. “Should the Chief of Police be saying something like that?”

His stare was pointed as he grasped her upper arms as he became serious. “You’re my daughter. You matter. The whole world could be burning or be dealing with the worst of the worst, but you and your Mother will always come first to me.”

“That sounds like something your brother would say.”

“Well, we are related.” He said in a slightly joking way, then stood up. “Now then, do you still want that tour? There’s a lot you haven’t seen yet.”

She thought about it for a moment. “Sure, I’m still up for it. Lead the way O mighty and tall tour guide.”

Her father smiled as he did just that, speaking about what he knew of some of the artwork, those who lived here, and, as cheesy as it was, some ghost stories.

By the time the two left the mansion, it was late into the evening. Taryn paused when she felt that same feeling as before, looking back to the second-floor window, she could see Adrian looking down at them. His expression was unreadable as he offered a bow, whether it was one for goodbye, gratitude or thanks, she wasn’t sure.

The feeling she got from him could be either one; there was no malice or hate. Still, she almost found it strange how lighter she felt talking about it with her father, how Taryn was able to air out what felt like with such ease.

She couldn’t see herself as she was before, by any stretch. That was something that would never change. However, with all that in mind, something did rear itself from the conversation. The possibility of Toya’s return, he may come back, he may not, but if he did, she would have to get herself prepared for it, mentally and physically.

There was no real way of knowing if he would or not, given that it all happened in the underground tunnels. If there were a chance that Toya would make himself known, she’d have to be ready to do something about it.

But before any of that could be done, there was something else that she needed to do…

* * *

When the two had returned, Dimitri was the first to greet them, letting them know that he had an impressive dinner in the oven for everyone tonight. Taryn was the first to head back inside with her Grandfather, letting her know that her friends were playing pool in the basement. Her father added that he’ll join in a little while.

As she entered the home, she gave a quick hello to both Isabella and Bob as she removed her jacket, boots, scarf, and gloves before heading down into the basement to where her two friends were playing.

“So, who’s in the lead?” Taryn asked as she sat down on a stool by the bar.

“Stephanie is,” Rachael sighed. “And she is kicking my butt. You’ve played before, right? Help me, please, I beg of you!”

Stephanie responded with a snappy. “Hey, don’t cheat.”

While Rachael just motioned for Taryn to help anyway in which Taryn merely shook her head as she remained where she sat.

“So, where the heck did you guys go?” Stephanie asked when the game came to an end.

“A private museum tour,” Taryn said with a shrug. “It was something my Dad wanted me to see for a long time now.”

“Oh, neat. I didn’t know there were any museums this far out.”

However, Taryn’s expression became stern at that moment. “Do you guys mind if I ask you something? It’s important.”

Both Stephanie and Rachael looked at each other, slightly puzzled before Stephanie responded. “Go for it.”

She told them about writing what she had experienced into a book, though affirmed that she had no intention of making it public or selling it. To her surprise, they both agreed and thought of doing something like it in their own ways. In actuality, Taryn had used it as an icebreaker for the real thing she wished to talk about with them.

“I don’t think I killed Toya.”

Dead silence.

“But you stabbed him,” Stephanie stated. “You said so yourself; you repeatedly stabbed the guy. He couldn’t have lived after that.”

“Yes, but only after I shot him and ran out of bullets. Shooting him did nothing. I only grabbed the closest thing I could get to. Even then, I have no clue if it was a blessed blade like June mentioned. I had no way of knowing at the time.”

“Well, fuck…” Stephanie muttered. “So, what does that mean?”

“He’s either dead or not dead.”

“And if he’s not?” Rachael asked.

Taryn looked directly at her friend. “Then he’ll be coming for me. Simple as that.”

Stephanie fell silent for a moment. “You’re still in contact with the detective, right?”

“Yeah, Daichi told me that he plans to come here for his wedding with his significant other. He’s also kept me informed of what’s going on. They still haven’t found the room I mentioned; it seems that several tunnels have been blocked off by fallen debris. Including the well. It’s going to be a while before it’s secure enough to dig through.”

“Then, they still haven’t found anything?” Rachael asked.

She shook her head. “No, not even of Sato, but given what I did to him, he’s most likely dead. He wasn’t like Toya; Sato was completely human.”

“How can you be sure?” Stephanie asked.

“Because he bragged about it to me, before Taryn stabbed him,” Rachael answered. “He wanted to sell this power to the Japanese military, to turn people into undying soldiers.”

“That wouldn’t work, would it? I mean, so many people died from Toya’s attempts, it’d be crazy to even try it.”

“But a great number of people didn’t,” Taryn told Stephanie. “They just couldn’t move, and those who did were part of the staff, as far as I’m aware. Even they haven’t been found. I have no idea how many Toya turned, but they were under his strict orders.”

Concern was etched over Stephanie’s face as she looked at Taryn. “Do you think he’d send them to get you?”

“I doubt it. If anyone were to come after me, it’d be Toya, and him alone,” she let out a breath. “But just because I told you guys this, I don’t want you to panic.”

“Don’t want us to…” Stephanie moved for her seat, paced for several turns, then stopped before looking directly at Taryn. “Your joking, how could we not? There’s some insane bastard possibly out there that can’t practically die, that wants you for some arbitrary bullshit reason. And you don’t want us to panic?”

“We don’t know if he is,” Taryn says. “He could be alive, or he could very well be dead. But it’s something I don’t want to dwell on, which is why I’ll wait for Daichi to tell me. A person can go mad from something like this, this rampant paranoia. And the last thing I want is to be put into a padded room like my Mom’s brother where I could be easily targeted.”

Stephanie winced, while Rachael merely looked worried. “Taryn…”

Taryn, however, offered them both a smile. “We only have one life and I don’t intend to live in constant fear. At least that’s my intention; if he does show up, I’ll do what I need to. I already plan to tell my family about it in the new year.”

“Okay then,” Stephanie said after a moment of silence. “I won’t tell anyone, at least not right this minute, but I’ll tell my father. He won’t believe a word about a human-sized living doll, but he will if I just say that it was someone who tried to kill us at the mansion that is still after us. He’d believe that.”

“Same,” Rachael added. “Making it more believable that it’s someone who just wants to take you because he thinks he’s immortal and killed all those people would make more sense. Hell, I think anyone would believe that.”

She looked at them both. “You know you guys would be safe. He’s only after me.”

“Like hell!” Stephanie snapped.

“We are not letting you face this alone,” Rachael said as she closed the distance and gripped her hand. “Not after all this.”

“We’ll face him as much as we have to if it means you stay safe,” Stephanie said. She had a look of confidence, but her eyes betrayed that confidence with shadows of fear.

She got up from the stool and hugged them both. “Thanks, guys…” even though in the deepest part of her mind, she felt that she would have to face Toya alone.

Just like before within those tunnels, but she kept to herself.

* * *

Later that night, Taryn was in her room as she took off her brother’s ID-Disc, her gaze went to the necklace that was atop her dresser, still in its box, she only ever wore it once, when she attended Robert’s funeral.

If Toya was out there, she needed all the protection she could get. Taryn put it on before looking at herself in the mirror; she paused when, for a moment, she saw someone else. A woman dressed in a beautiful gown from the 1700s, her hand resting in between Taryn’s shoulder blades where her birthmark of a bell and a darker birthmark of the fleur de lis lay on top of the bell-shaped one, then she was gone.

Taryn looked at her reflection puzzled. Marie?

What was she doing here? Her ghost should have been in France in Versailles, not here in Canada. Though such a thing shouldn’t have surprised her, as not all ghosts were confined to one place. Some could roam free, while others chose to stay in one place. Given how much Marie would watch Taryn when she was in Paris when she was little and the events of last year, it shouldn’t have surprised her that this ghost would offer moral support in Taryn’s time of need.

Then her gaze fell back onto the necklace in her reflection.

The necklace, the compact, the mark on her back, and her abilities. She laughed softly; it was like she was gearing up to fight in a war.

In a strange sense, that’s what it was.

A war between her and a man overtaken by his desire and unyielding madness.

“Taryn, dinner’s ready!” her father called from the bottom of the stairs.

“Coming,” Taryn stopped before leaving the room, headed back to the dresser and grabbed her brother’s ID-Disc, too soon. It felt too early to go without this. She put it back on underneath her clothes while the necklace remained over top.

“Watch my back, Roy.” She said softly, then headed down to eat with the others.

Whatever was to come, however long it would take, she'd face it head-on. This was her own battle, her war, her fight. Be it months or years for it to start and end. She’d face Toya.

Like those before her who fought in war.

She would fight to defend her home and those she loved.

She would go until bitter the end.

She would never surrender.

Whatever the cost may be.

TO BE CONTINUED…