Usurped

Chapter 1

Every night, I hear her whispering. At midnight, she descends into the basement, her footsteps echoing on the wooden floor of our small house, the sound eerie in the silence. I've tried asking her what’s going on, but she dodges the question every time, leaving me with nothing but unease.

A few years later, I was ready to find out what was happening. But when I opened the basement door, she greeted me with a smile—a smile from a dead woman hanging from the ceiling. Her eyes were wide open, tears still streaking her pale face. As I followed her gaze, I saw something red on the floor, mixed with a sweet, fishy smell that filled the dark room, along with the scent of a flower I couldn't name. I turned my flashlight towards it, revealing words scrawled in the dripping red substance: “They are coming.”

A scream of pure terror ripped from my throat as my body froze, unable to move. My father rushed down the stairs, and the moment he saw my mother, he swiftly lowered her lifeless body. I didn’t know what happened next—darkness overtook me, pulling me into unconsciousness.

I remember it was the spring of 1978 when it happened: heavy rain pounded the house, bright lightning flashed, and thunder roared. I thought it was just a nightmare—until autumn came.

I was only six years old when a young girl went missing. Rumours of a new Ripper and witches swept through our town, terrifying kids my age. I remember waiting to meet my father after school when, the moment he saw me, he dashed over, grabbed my hand, and hurried us into a taxi, urgency etched on his face.

“Keep the change,” my father said to the driver, his voice low. We stood there watching as the car disappeared down the silent street, leaving only the distant hum of the engine behind.

“Dad, what's the matter?” I asked, watching him fumble with the keys, his hands unsteady as he hurried to unlock the door.

He turned to me, taking my bag and offering a faint smile. "Daddy’s here to protect you," he said. "I promise, you won’t go missing like that poor little girl from your school."

Months passed, and three girls had gone missing, all from our town. As one of the officers assigned to Richmond, my father felt it was his duty to solve the case. No one had seen them after they left their schools in the area.

He hired one of his trusted friends to be our nanny, someone who accompanied us to school and wherever we wanted to go. After that event, my conversations with Dad grew limited as he devoted himself entirely to the case.

Isabella. Elizabeth. Dianne. Those names lingered in my mind as I grew up. The incident happened thirty years ago, yet it remained the reason my father and I grew distant until his death, a result of sleepless nights spent chasing the case ten years ago. I still can’t grasp why he cared so deeply about that case, especially since we didn't know those girls and I, his son, seemed to take a back seat. His obsession baffled me.

In my dreams, I was often visited by memories of my mother, and as they unfolded, I encountered more things I couldn't comprehend. That was another mystery far more baffling than those girls, yet my father seemed to care more about them than about my own mother, his wife.

I followed in my father’s footsteps as a police officer and was eventually promoted to Detective Inspector in my new town, Westershire. I left my hometown to escape those confusing childhood memories that haunted me, seeking therapy to help me forget the traumas. I still don’t understand why I chose this profession, but I keep telling myself it wasn't because of my father's obsession with that case.

“Great job, Benedict,” one of my colleagues said, giving me a reassuring pat on the back.

“Congratulations!” my team cheered, their smiles lighting up the hallway as I marched past them.

“Thanks,” I replied. “Congratulations to all of us.”

We were at the office, having just wrapped up a public interview regarding a new case my team had solved. It had been a hectic day, and resolving the murder scene felt like a thorn finally removed from my heart.

I hopped into my car, eager to finally head home when a thought flashed in my mind. The crime scene had held the same smell I sensed in my house's basement thirty years ago. Beneath the metallic scent of blood from the victim’s wound, there was a floral fragrance. The hairs on my arms began to prickle as I was jolted by a figure appearing behind me in the rearview mirror.

“Surprise!” My eyes widened, and my heart skipped a beat as I turned to see one of my friends crouched in the back seat.

“What the heck!” I shouted, my voice rising in shock.

“Sorry! I'm so sorry,” he chuckled, raising his hands in the air and placing an envelope down on the seat.

“What the heck are you doing, Damien?!” I asked again, finally regaining my composure.

“Oh, gosh! You look so pale,” he said, quickly opening the back door and sliding into the seat beside me. “What’s the matter? I didn’t know you could be such a scaredy cat. This is the first time I’ve seen you like this.”

“I was in the middle of something when you showed up. You nearly gave me a heart attack,” I replied.

“Again, I'm so sorry,” he said, his voice laced with concern.

“It’s fine,” I replied with a sigh.

Silence enveloped us as I started the car’s engine. I was ready to drive when his presence felt overwhelming again. “What are you doing here, and what was that envelope you were holding earlier?” I asked.

He leaned back into the rear seat, retrieved the envelope, and returned to sit beside me. With a smile evident in his slanted eyes, he handed it over, even though he tried to hide his amusement.

“Open it,” he said, attempting to sound serious.

I took the envelope from him and pulled out an invitation. It announced that I was invited to his pre-wedding party, set for tomorrow evening.

“Are you coming?” Damien asked, his eyes gleaming with excitement. “Christine and I will soon be together, and we’re heading to America for our honeymoon after the wedding. You know what that means—I’ll really miss my time with my best friend ever.”

“Bestest friend, huh?” I teased, raising an eyebrow.

“I don’t want my bestest friend—and soon-to-be Best Man—to miss my last night of being single tomorrow at my bachelor party,” he said, his smile finally breaking through.

“Oh, really?” I teased again. “And where is this party?”

“At one of the hotels in Richmond,” he replied. “I know you lived there and might be missing your hometown, so I agreed with my staff's suggestion. Plus, the owner is a good friend of mine.”

My emotions flattened, leaving me unsure of how to feel. I knew I wasn't ready to confront the horrors I had left behind, but if destiny wanted me to return, I would just go with the flow. Besides, it was just one night.