The Briefing
At only twelve years old, Robert was already 172cm. Many said his height gave him his courage, but he knew it was just pure stubbornness.
He walked up to the huge iron gate with unshakeable confidence, but then he hesitated. How would he climb this monstrosity?
It was easily 18.3 meters tall and smooth.
Just as he thought this, the gate opened soundlessly, smoothly. A faint whisper met his ear: "Do you want to play?"
He took an involuntary step back, his heart hammering a rapid, frantic rhythm against his ribs. An oddly thin blue fog, twinkling like a star-filled night and moving from the open gate as if it were sentient, glided out.
The words had pricked the hairs on the back of his neck, and his hand instinctively rubbed the spot as he stood there, frozen, still denying it all. Michael Simms bet him five dollars that he wouldn't go into the old Willow Shore neighborhood. He was going to get that easy money.
He looked down, a bit too casually, at the blue twinkling fog clinging to him like old magic seeking a conduit. Robert forced a steady breath and stepped into Willow Shore, his steps a little less steady, but the conviction of getting the cash still filling his veins. Fear was just a farce, an automatic reaction to the unknown.
He stepped deeper into the neighborhood and the huge gate silently, definitively, closed behind him.
The conference room was quiet. The floors were freshly vacuumed, the trash empty, the table wiped, and the chairs all neatly pushed under it. The blinds were closed and the lights were off, all light cut off from the quiet, pristine room.
A clock in the building struck 3:00 AM—for some, this is the hour souls walk, the time of unrest and disquiet.
And just as that clock showed 3:00 AM, quiet Conference Room B in the offices of Allen Developers was suddenly flooded with eerie blue light.
The light blinked and fluttered, and a thin, slow blue fog crept along the conference room floor. The fog blinked as if filled with starlight; it moved about as if it searched, as if it knew.
It soon found something: a wide, brown chair at the far end of the conference table. The fog slowly and methodically seeped into the cushion. As it did, a quiet call slipped from the far corners of the room: "I just want Elias Happy."
When that clock hit 3:01 AM, it was all over. Conference Room B was again quiet, but that brown chair now had a peculiar, faint blue glow.
8:30 AM
Kathleen Row was a rather accomplished researcher. She was young, but research was her life. She had started out in sciences and quickly found out she could not make any money in searching for cures.
So here she was, at Allen Developers, the best researcher in commercial real estate. If it was out there, she would find it.
She was a bit early, as usual. The new property was a big one, and she was trying to get a handle on it, but for some reason, she could not get into her usual organized mode.
As usual, she sat at the far end of the table, wanting to spread out and not disturb others. The oversized office chair was oddly warm, but she didn't notice.
She frowned as her laptop froze and went blue for the third time today, odd sparkling light on the screen like an electrical problem threatening to steal all her hard work. Was today just not her day? She looked off and then spun back to the screen. She frowned.
Did a video just play?
But all she saw was the weird rolling blue, sparkling fog-like static.
She pursed her lips as the conference room door opened, and in entered the beautiful and leggy R&D officer, Tara Woodfield, already in full conversation.
"… and then the property would not be a problem, Dan. You really do need to learn to think ahead."
Daniel "Dan" Hale nodded politely and entered, throwing a pleasant smile Kathleen's way. She nodded politely, in turn, to them both, and returned with a frown to her computer.
Marcus and Tomas entered next. The structural engineer and tech specialist, respectively, were already in one of their heated discussions when Tomas noticed the room. He frowned.
"Why are we in Conference Room B? This one is so creepy."
Kathleen smirked. "No one has jumped from these windows since the mid-1900s."
Tomas immediately made the sign of the crucifix over his torso.
"Don't even bring things like that up. Can't you feel how odd it is in here?"
Marcus rolled his eyes as he sat down, opening the file one more time. He had no time for superstition, religious or otherwise. His eyes scanned through the data and picture of the gate surrounding the property. Completely ignoring Tomas, he asked a question.
"Do we have any actual pictures of the property, Kathleen?"
She nodded, but Dan answered. "They are in the PowerPoint presentation." His head never rising from what he was doing.
The last two of the main group arrived shortly after that: Selene Park, a really good environmentalist, and Dr. Raymond Chen, a world-renowned geologist.
Dr. Chen took a seat in front, near the projector, his glasses shining off the soft lighting of the conference room. His eyes roamed over the others silently, his expression blank, and his mind set on work.
"Good morning, Dr. Chen. I rarely get to work with you; this project is bigger than I thought if they need both of us." Marcus smiled broadly as he spoke, but the scientist only gave a slight nod in response. All business as usual, Marcus thought, as he forced himself not to shake his head.
Everyone settled down, grabbing more coffee, a snack, took their seats, and Dan got the PowerPoint started.
"You're right, Marcus, this is a big one. It is a large, high-end gated community extending outward from a good-sized estate. We will need to…"
Marcus frowned as he looked to the screen. "Daniel, start the slide. I read the prelims, but I want to see the actual property."
Dan turned to the screen with a frown. "It is on, is it not showing? Great, Tomas, come fix this."
Everyone looked to the screen, as one, to see a solid blue screen facing them, moving like a slow rolling fog across the projection screen, starlight flashing deep within the blue tone.
Kathleen frowned but stopped thinking about it when Tomas had the slideshow up and running moments later. The first slide was an aerial view of a large property with five streets of homes spanning out in a semicircle from a large estate with a good-sized grove, a large lake, and a rather large estate house.
Selene shivered as a sudden chill ran down her spine. The image on the screen seemed – off, foreboding – she involuntarily leaned further back in her seat.
Marcus frowned. "This architecture is early 1900s. When was this picture taken?"
Dan looked back at him, then to Kathleen, but he answered. "This was actually found in our archives. The Old Man tried, and failed, to buy it about fifty years ago."
Marcus nodded and narrowed his eyes. "Fifty years? Those houses were in good condition."
Dan shrugged. "Makes sense. It is one of the private properties of the Morrison Group."
Tara perked up, her lipstick seconds away from painting her lips as she looked to the screen. "The Morrison Group? They hold on to their properties as if real estate was actually gold and diamonds and not dirt and wildlife." She looked to Kathleen. "What is the property name?"
Selene shivered as she looked at the file for the thousandth time. She had not felt good about this project at all. Her heart seemed to clench when her secretary handed her the file yesterday. Now, sitting in this room, she was feeling odd, like danger was right next to her and she could not see it.
She looked up at Kathleen, dreading her answer—for some reason.
"Willow Shore."
Another cold shiver ran down Selene, and her eyes shut on their own accord.
"Why didn't Mr. Allen make the sale?" Tara blotted her lipstick as she spoke, her voice husky due to the action.
Kathleen answered with readied assuredness and professionalism. "The file doesn't really say. It says he had a lot of resistance from one branch of the Morrison family, and then he just decided to not pursue it anymore."
Tara nodded as if everything was clear to her. "The Morrisons do not like to give up a good property." She looked at her hair in the mirror. "And this looks like an exceptional property."