The realization hit hard. If Henry Avery was still alive and orchestrating the murders, then Dalton’s mysterious disappearance was only part of a much larger plot. Avery had clearly been watching them, perhaps manipulating them all from the shadows, using their pasts as weapons against them. The deaths of Kenneth and David were only the beginning.
Suddenly, a loud bang reverberated through the room, followed by the sound of footsteps overhead.
Victor jumped, his face paling. “Someone’s in the house.”
Simon’s face darkened. “Let’s move. Now.”
Charles nodded, leading the way up the narrow staircase back into the mansion’s main hall. They were met with silence. The eerie kind that presses in on you from all sides, filling the air with dread. Every creak of the floorboards seemed amplified, every whisper of the wind outside like a sinister warning.
They hurried down the long corridor toward the foyer, where the grand staircase loomed in the dim light. As they approached, the sound of a door creaking open reached their ears. Charles raised his hand, signaling for the others to stop.
There, standing at the entrance to the mansion, silhouetted in the pale light from outside, was a figure.
Charles’s heart pounded in his chest. Was it Dalton? Or had Avery finally revealed himself?
The figure stepped forward, and Charles felt his breath catch. It was Dalton—disheveled, pale, and with a look of haunted terror etched across his face. His eyes darted around wildly as if he was barely holding onto reality.
Victor rushed forward. “Dalton! What the hell is going on?”
Dalton raised a trembling hand, his voice hoarse and broken. “It’s not me... I didn’t—”
Before he could finish, there was a deafening crack, like a thunderclap. Dalton’s body jerked violently, and he collapsed to the floor, blood pooling around him.
For a moment, no one moved. The shock of what had just happened was too overwhelming.
Then Victor screamed. “He’s been shot!”
Charles spun around, searching the dark corners of the foyer for any sign of the shooter, but there was nothing. Whoever had fired the shot had done so from the shadows—and vanished just as quickly.
Simon knelt beside Dalton’s body, feeling for a pulse. He shook his head. “He’s gone.”
Charles stood frozen, staring at Dalton’s lifeless form. The host was dead, and with him, their last hope for answers. Whoever was behind this was still out there—and they were being hunted.
“We have to get out of here,” Victor said, his voice shaking. “We’re next.”
Simon looked up, his expression cold and determined. “No. If we run now, we’ll be killed before we even make it to the gate. We have to figure out who’s behind this, or none of us are leaving.”
Charles took a deep breath, trying to steady his nerves. The pieces were finally starting to come together. Avery was alive, and he was hunting them down one by one. But why? What was the connection between Avery and the rest of them?
And more importantly, how did they survive the night?
YOU ARE READING
Whispers In The Fog
Mystery / ThrillerA group of wealthy men are invited to an exclusive retreat at an isolated mansion, but when they arrive, their mysterious host is nowhere to be found. As the night unfolds, one of the guests is found dead, turning the gathering into a deadly game of...
