𝗽𝗵𝗮𝗻𝘁𝗼𝗺 𝗼𝗽𝗲𝗿𝗮 ➪ 𝗮𝗻𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗻𝘆 𝗹𝗼𝗰𝗸𝘄𝗼𝗼𝗱

𝗳𝗼𝘂𝗿𝘁𝗲𝗲𝗻. 𝗵𝗮𝘂𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗱 𝗺𝗮𝗻𝗼𝗿𝘀 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗯𝗼𝗺𝗯 𝗳𝗹𝗮𝗿𝗲𝘀

*the Berkshire manor in the picture above*

THE TRAIN BLARED.
Agnes was finally close to her home again.
anxiety crippled inside of her, it filled her mind and stomach. she felt sick to her core.

"wow, there's a lot of green!" George commented with a smile, which was not returned by Agnes in the slightest.
"never been outside of London before, George?" Lockwood asked, he was in the front. Lucy behind him, Agnes behind Lucy and George was the last of them all.
"I visit my gran in Sidcup." George commented.

"that's in London, dumbass." Agnes chuckled, at least one of them was able to calm her nerves down by a notch.
"well, then you have your answer. doesn't look like I've missed much." Agnes swiped the cold sweat out of her forehead, almost letting her baggage fall.

"I can't believe we're going to Sir John Fairfax's house!" Lockwood exclaimed, barely believing it.
"yeah well don't get too excited; it's nothing too fancy or accommodating." Agnes frowned, recollecting bad memories full of trauma from the place she'd hated from the beginning of her life.

"you say that cause you're a Berkshire. I bet your house is ten times nicer than all of the manors in here!" George commented.
"more or less." the blonde shrugged.

pieces of glass perforated her body,  blood dripped from her nose as she laid on the floor. too exhausted to get up, body close to giving up. her mother sat down in a chair.
she had her left hand on her temples with a sigh, looking at her daughter's deplorable situation.
Emilia Berkshire's voice was hoarse, hoarse from screaming. she had her daughter's blood on her knuckles, but she didn't regret it. that little spoiled girl had what she deserved, talking back to a man like Sir John Fairfax was unacceptable; no matter the situation.

Agnes felt like a zombie walking, she didn't listen to her companions talk about the creep of a man with such astonishment of what he succeeded.
if she listened she'd get on another screaming match with Anthony Lockwood, and she had enough of that for the week.
on the exit of the station the company met a woman.
"welcome. I'm Ellie, Mr.Fairfax's assistant. this way, please." she was young, not as young as Agnes at the time but...the blonde couldn't help but wonder, had he touched his assistant the way he touched Agnes in the past. with so much ignorance and brutality he'd call love. bruises on her porcelain skin from his love, scars on her legs from punishments of not listening to his sickening orders.

the woman threw Agnes's bag on the car, she grunted as she did so. Ellie gave a knowing glance to Agnes.
"must we ride in this old wreck?" George smirked.
they hopped in the red Chevrolet, passing by a city Agnes knew so well.
they'd arrived Combe Carey Hall. it's castle like architecture was not as big as the Berkshire's, no house could compare to it but Combe Carey Hall was absolutely breathtaking.
Agnes's colleagues mouths were agape, they'd never seen a building like it so close; and now they'd have the opportunity to enter it.

"Welcome to Combe Carey Hall. you're late." Fairfax had his hands to his back, Agnes scoffed.
"now drop your bags and hurry up, please. the sun's going down." he ordered.

the teens explored the house, George had the blueprint as they walked around.
"I can't figure this place out. nothing's where it should be!"

"this is the gallery. the original priority was destroyed after the monks decided to commit mass suicide. you had to make your own fun in those days." Fairfax joked.

"yeah like you did, right?" Agnes raised her brows, riling Fairfax up. she felt something was up. and if she went down, Fairfax would die trying to claw his way out of Agnes's grip.
the old man gave a dark look to Agnes, something along the lines of: I'll kill you, or, I'll tell your parents you're here and they'll deal with you. but honestly, those were close to the same thing.

Lockwood did sense something was going on between his...colleague, and John Fairfax.

"the modern house was built in the ruins. so it's a bit of a Frankenstein." the older man ignored the girl, directing his word to Lockwood.
"Mr.Lockwood has broken the deal. he brought a bomb flare." Ellie had the object in her hands, Agnes tried to hide a knowing smirk.

"oh dear! I asked Ellie to go through your bags." Fairfax admitted.
"you did what?" George asked surprise.
"well, then you've broken the rules of the deal too, by searching our bags." Lockwood glanced behind him, searching for Agnes who was on the middle of Lucy and George, hands in pockets, trying to hide her fists as she resisted the urge to beat Fairfax and his little assistant.
"as far as I recall, there's nothing in our agreement that prevents me making sure you won't burn my house down. you do have form, after all, let's call it quits. well, time is ticking. the sun's nearly down." George whispered something in Lockwood's ear.

"we'll leave you to work. it's a little late for us to be in this house safely. through there, you'll find the Screaming Staircase. it'll take you round to the Red Room, which is the most likely site of the primary source. we'll be back in the morning. I trust you have everything you need from here?" his voice was slow, every time a word was brought out of his mind was another torture inflicting upon Agnes's mind.

"i'm sure we'll be fine." Lockwood responded, "good luck." Ellie and Fairfax left the house, leaving the four teenagers alone in the house of torture.
glasses tinkling, laughter and piano music filled both listeners ears. Agnes could see small shadows from the corners of her eyes.
soon the happy atmosphere was changed by shouting, crying and shrieks; the glasses were shattered and a repeated smashing sound filled Agnes's and Lucy's ears. it was loud, so loud it hurt the insides of Agnes's ears.

a pulse of energy flowed through, making the room quiet once more. the temperature dropped significantly, Agnes's breath shivered as the hairs from her arms stood up.
"this whole place is freezing up." George commented.
"we've noticed." Agnes replied in a loud whisper.
"and it's hard to map a source because the rooms don't fit together properly.  I think there's something old that's hidden away. it feels like we're going in blind. are we sure we wanna do this?" George questioned, they felt anxious, nauseated.

"I'm not. Lockwood?" Lucy called out.
Agnes stayed silent, listening to the sounds and paying attention to small glows and shadows.
"Lockwood what are you doing?" George questioned.

"just uh... a spot of fishing. hopefully, this will relax you both a bit." Agnes glanced at him, smirking.
"me and Agnes came here yesterday after Satchell's to do a bit of recon and stashed this outside. Agnes's idea, really so all credit goes to her." he flashed her a charming smile.

"it was obvious, Fairfax being who he is, he was gonna search our bags. and we being we, we were gonna smuggle flares in." Agnes spoke nonchalantly.

"we don't have our usual kit, but we do have this bomb flare. industrial strength. better be, cost enough." the boy revealed the bomb flare.
"so the flare in your bag was just decoy contraband." George smirked.
"all part of the dance." he commented.

"why didn't you tell us?" Lucy questioned.
"what, and deny us all this beautiful moment? come on, Luce. we're not monsters." he chuckled drily.
"right. shall we?"