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She didn't know what to expect as Kelly burst through the door of the home, her gun pointed at anything that would be potentially dangerous. On her left, a doorway arch led her further into the house. But by the state of the interior, she wouldn't call it a livable place. Filth littering the walkway, gaping holes in the walls made up of stone, and wooden boards nailed to the only window she saw. And how could she forget the stench that reeked of... who knows what.
The minimum lighting wouldn't be enough to brighten up the hallway, but it was doable. Kelly trudged further into the home, taking in the messy facade. What kind of person would be okay living like this? She thought. Surely, the person who owned the place would have some standards when it came to their home, yet so far, it looked like it's been uninhabitable for a while—minus a burning lantern in the bedroom and a lit fire in what Kelly presumed to be the dining area.
A faint thump brought her back to her senses, raising her gun in front of her in preparation for a surprise attack. Kelly heard the noise emitting from behind a certain door embedded with a keyhole in it. Her first instinct was to run in and see if Leon was there. However, the other part of her told her to be rational. If there was indeed someone living in the house, and they attacked her partner, chances are, they may be a threat to her as well. It was hard, especially when she wanted to know if her lover was alright, but she had to be smart about it.
Kelly gently pushed the door open, the hinges squeaking as it did so. Entering the space, she found a staircase leading her into a cellar. On the way down, tattered cloth draped overhead, alongside various bones and an unusual wooden craft hanging front and center. If Kelly didn't know any better, she'd think someone hung these artifacts for the purpose of practicing dark magic. Stranger things have happened for sure, and this appeared to be one of them.
A musty smell wafted throughout the cellar, which caused the woman's iron stomach to churn in disgust. Whatever her sense of smell detected from upstairs was similar to the foul odor discharging from where she currently stood, only stronger.
Kelly drew back a shabby curtain concealing a couple of crates and barrels, beaming her flashlight left and right. What stood out immediately was the missing cop they've been searching for, lying stiff on the floor, beaten and bloody. She bent down to examine the body up close, covering her mouth with her sleeve. Purple marks decorated his face, accompanied by bulging red eyes, his teeth and tongue painted in his own blood; a wide slit cut deeply across his neck. This poor man. Kelly's heart sank, her worry about her partner escalating. She had to find Leon—fast.
The woman shot up and broke out into a jog, not so much as paying attention to her surroundings, despite being careful earlier. After Kelly swept past the curtain, she bumped into a slightly taller figure of a person. Kelly jumped back, letting out a frightened yelp while aiming her gun at the assailant, ready to fire.
