Chapter 4: Haunted Mansion

They met at a cafe. Dave was rid of his usual smugness. He looked in a dream just like the hunter, but was not as crazy as yesterday. He admitted that there was something weird about his memory.

“Tell me how you spent yesterday before you called me. Describe the way you remember.”

“I don’t know. Everything’s confusing. The night before that I went into a fight with—you know—umm”

“Elaine?” Her former friend who he slept with while he was dating Danica.

“Yeah. Now it was like a dream. I was angry with her—and you—because normally you’d call me and ask me if I was okay. But you didn’t. The weird thing was I found out the date and the changes around me, but I was still confused.”

“Like you were living in two different timelines at the same time.” That’s how George described his experience.

“Exactly. How do you know that? When I woke up this morning, I also remembered I’ve already broken up with you, but—”

“Do you remember meeting any suspicious non-human?” She did not know an other-race that could alter memories this way. Vampires, kitsunes, and demons could influence human minds, but they could not entirely change the memory. They either convinced you or forced you to do something. This was different. This was something entirely new or something more powerful.

“I don’t think so. I remember going to a bar but you know I go there often. That felt so vague. I’m not sure if I was there or not, even though I am talking about it.”

Dave looked like a good person now, losing his usual rudeness and forcefulness. He appeared more like a victim than his normal bully self. She almost felt sorry for him.

“Who did you talk to?”

“I don’t remember. I was drinking with you know—” Ah, Olivia. Another former friend of hers.

“Olivia, just say it. Don’t be shy.”

“If you say so. Yeah, I think I was with her. But she talked about another guy and I was furious. I thought I’d go to you instead. Maybe it’s all in my head though. One minute I was there and the next I was in front of your building. Like I was teleported.”

That was the dead end. His story did not give her any clue more than a sci-fi novel would. They parted ways. It was noon, but the sun was hidden behind the thick clouds.

There was nothing similar or related to that on social media or on TV. Even if there were, it would be confused with normal stuff. People forgot things all the time.

She asked Marc and a few other hunters in her contacts. Although they were not close with her, they talked when necessary and so did she.

“I just met two people this morning, who fit the criteria. I assumed it was normal, but now you mentioned it, it might not be. I’ll get back to you later,” answered Marie. She was an experienced hunter, more than herself.

About an hour later, she called her back and said there was no clue what happened to them. And all three of them, including Dave, had gone to totally different places. 

But from another hunter, she found out about a reporter who had come to interview him, mistaking the dates, as the interview had already taken place. The reporter was the only one who remembered where he went last evening because he had written about the place afterward and it was in today’s release of the Gothic Tribune. 

She bought it, hoping to find some clues. The article was about Block 71, the neighborhood occupied by the other-races. He was a regular columnist about crimes in the city and yesterday he went to a few places in the area, including a warehouse, a mansion, and a bridge.

The article was boring, including no new information. It read more like a travel review. One thing, however, stood out to her. It was about the mansion at the edge of Block 71. She read the certain paragraph that interested her:

“Despite its infamous name, the mansion was a mere old building. Imposing? Yes. Frightening? Everything we’ve heard is nothing more than a long urban tale. What I found was an abandoned, dusty place decorated with ancient paintings which no one had dared to steal for whatever reason I couldn’t fathom. I came back empty-handed. I found no ghost, unlike the rumors said.”

After writing that article, he developed a memory problem. It fit what Marie had told her about him.

She had to admit, as a non-hunter, he had lots of guts to have gone to Block 71.

Until a few weeks ago, she regularly visited the area. More often than not, it was before sunset. They did not like humans, especially hunters coming to their neighborhood. Now the sun had already set. It couldn’t be helped. She decided to pay a visit to the ‘haunted’ mansion.

***

Compared to the previous times she had been here, this was a huge surprise. 

Block 71 was a combination of high and low dark buildings, everywhere crawled by other-races, the streets filled with establishments that offered numerous items which humans either would not want to involve with at all or would give a hand and a leg to get their hands on. Such as blood and flesh for the first group and fairy dust and beauty spells for the second group. 

The reporter had not mentioned any difference. Perhaps he might not have an idea since it had supposedly been his first time here. To her, the difference was like day and night. Normally, there would be fights and arguments everywhere that ended with maiming and killing, which rarely involved a human.

Now there was no fight to be found. Everyone was minding their own business. It was like an ordinary neighborhood except for the residents’ appearances and the ones that were flying above. Pixes and fairies. How civilized and how uneventful.

She parked the car before the haunted mansion. It was built with an unknown material, darker than midnight. The fence was more of a fortress. Not because it was overly high or thick. It was only a stone wall. What made it threatening were runes and magic symbols drawn on every inch of the stone fence and the metal gate.

It prevented going in or coming out of most of the unwelcomed other-races. One symbol was a tattoo on her right arm, a combination of the Mannaz symbol and the Baphomet symbol. It warded off demons from entering any place–whether it may be a building or a human vessel. 

The gate was locked but humans could climb over it. 

As soon as her booted feet touched the yard, she felt the abrupt change in the atmosphere. The street was loud, whereas the yard was deadly quiet. Separated only by a fence, the temperature had gone down several degrees. 

Beneath her feet, a narrow lane curved around unseasonably blooming elms. The sound, the temperature, and the scenery were so much in contrast that she felt like she was in another world. Danica might have heard of something that allowed an environment exist in two different worlds. A spell? She wasn’t sure. Was it even legal though?

Who had the guts to do this in the middle of the human world? She took slow steps on the path, looking all around, part awed and part investigative.

She had never heard of anyone owning this place. To the people, the haunted mansion was considered a public building, having existed for as long as everyone remembered. Maybe four or five hundred years, give or take. Over time, it had become almost a historical building and an icon of the other-race community.

Despite the coolness in the air, there was no wind. Everything was silent and still.

The walls were so black that almost reflected the lights and the size was twice bigger than the entire apartment building she lived in. It was so beautiful. 

However, when she got to a few feet from the door, she halted in her tracks in surprise. This was supposed to be an abandoned building, but the door was ajar and a bright light was pouring out. 

Was someone living here?