Is That Mom

Part 2 of Chapter 8

Chapter 8:

Unraveling the Lies

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Part 2:

The Hidden Location

The road narrowed as Ethan approached the coordinates he had followed, winding up a series of steep, uneven hills. His car's tires crunched over gravel, the sound sharp and intrusive in the otherwise suffocating silence. The estate came into view slowly, emerging from behind a wall of mist and trees, as if it had been hiding, waiting for someone to stumble upon it. Ethan’s breath hitched when he saw it—a sprawling, dilapidated mansion, half-consumed by the overgrown vegetation that seemed intent on swallowing it whole. Moss clung to the stone walls, ivy snaked up toward the shattered windows, and the entire place exuded a sense of abandonment, of something long forgotten.

As he parked the car, Ethan sat for a moment, staring at the mansion. It was larger than he had expected, with an air of faded grandeur. The tall, wrought-iron gates hung slightly open, creaking softly in the breeze, as if inviting him to step inside. The house had an almost predatory stillness to it, like a creature lying in wait. Ethan shivered, pushing the thought aside. He was just nervous. After all, this was what he had been searching for, wasn’t it? Another clue, another chance to piece together his mother’s past.

The air was heavy, thick with moisture and the faint, earthy scent of decay. Ethan got out of the car, pulling his coat tighter around himself as he walked toward the entrance. The gravel crunched beneath his feet, the only sound breaking the eerie silence that had settled over the estate. Every step felt deliberate, almost reluctant, as though his body was resisting the urge to move forward. As he neared the gates, he noticed that the rusted chains which had once held them shut were lying on the ground, snapped, and twisted. Someone had been here recently. The realization sent a jolt of anxiety through him. For a moment, he hesitated, his heart pounding against his ribs. He scanned the grounds, his eyes darting between the shadows, but there was no movement, no sign of life.

Ethan pushed the gates open and stepped inside. The mansion loomed before him, its dark, jagged silhouette framed by the cloudy sky. Up close, it was clear just how much the place had been left to ruin. The once-stately pillars at the entrance were cracked, the stone steps leading to the front door chipped and uneven. Wild, untamed grass had overtaken what might have once been a garden, and a thick layer of dust covered everything, dulling the edges of what little remained of the estate’s former splendor. Yet, even in its state of disrepair, there was something about it that felt... purposeful. As if the decay was part of a disguise, a way to deter prying eyes.

He moved cautiously, every nerve on edge, as he made his way toward the front door. It was slightly ajar, a dark sliver inviting him inside. Ethan paused, his mind racing. Who had been here before him? And were they still inside? He swallowed hard, trying to shake off the feeling of unease that had crept up on him. The place was unsettling enough on its own, but knowing someone else might be here—someone who had the same information he did, or worse, someone who was trying to stop him—made the situation infinitely more dangerous.

Slowly, Ethan pushed the door open, its rusty hinges groaning in protest. The inside was dark, the faint light from outside barely penetrating the shadows. He fumbled for his flashlight, the small beam cutting through the gloom, revealing the grand, dusty foyer. The floor was littered with debris—crumpled papers, shards of glass, and what looked like remnants of old furniture. A grand staircase curved upward, its banister broken in places, leading to the second floor. Everything was shrouded in a layer of dust, as if time had stopped here, but as Ethan’s flashlight swept across the room, he noticed something that didn’t belong: a single, fresh footprint in the dirt near the entrance. His breath caught in his throat. Someone had been here. Recently.

Ethan knelt, examining the footprint. It was faint, but unmistakably fresh, the pattern still sharp against the dusty floor. He stood up quickly, his mind buzzing with questions. Was it a sign that he was being followed, or just a coincidence? He couldn’t tell, and that uncertainty gnawed at him. He swept the beam of his flashlight across the room, half-expecting to see a shadow flit across the corner of his vision, but there was nothing. The silence pressed in around him, amplifying the sound of his own breathing.

He took a step further into the foyer, the wooden floorboards creaking beneath his weight. As he moved deeper into the mansion, his anxiety began to morph into something more acute, a sharp, biting fear that gnawed at the edges of his mind. What if he wasn’t alone? The thought sent a chill down his spine, but he forced himself to keep moving. He had come this far; he couldn’t turn back now.

The place felt like a labyrinth, the hallways stretching out into the darkness, each door he passed leading to rooms he could barely make out through the shadows. Some were open, revealing empty, dust-filled spaces, while others remained stubbornly shut, hiding whatever secrets lay behind them. As Ethan ventured further, he noticed subtle signs of disturbance—a chair that had been moved, a door left slightly ajar, cobwebs that had been brushed aside. Someone had been searching, just like he was.

He approached one of the rooms that was partially open, his hand trembling slightly as he pushed the door wider. The room was empty, save for a few old, rotting pieces of furniture and a large, dusty mirror leaning against the wall. For a moment, he thought he saw movement behind him in the mirror’s reflection, but when he turned, there was nothing there. Just the empty hallway, stretching out into the darkness. His heart pounded, a tight knot of fear settling in his stomach. He had been so focused on finding the estate, on discovering what his mother had left behind, that he hadn’t truly prepared himself for the possibility that he might not be alone.

Ethan’s paranoia began to take hold, every creak of the floorboards, every whisper of the wind outside sounding like a threat. He felt exposed, vulnerable, as if he were being watched. He moved carefully, his flashlight flickering slightly as he navigated the dimly lit corridors. He was drawn deeper into the mansion, searching for something—anything—that might explain why his mother had been connected to this place. But with every step, he became more aware of how isolated he truly was. There was no one to call for help, no one to reach out to if things went wrong. If someone was following him, or if he stumbled into something he shouldn’t, there would be no one to pull him back.

As he turned a corner, Ethan spotted another clue—an old, wooden door at the end of the hallway, slightly ajar, the faintest sliver of light peeking through the gap. He hesitated, his mind screaming at him to be careful, but he couldn’t ignore the pull. He approached the door slowly, his hand hovering over the handle. For a moment, he closed his eyes, trying to steady his breathing. It felt like the walls were closing in on him, the dark, suffocating presence of the mansion pressing down on him.

With a deep breath, Ethan pushed the door open. The room was small, barely more than a closet, but what he saw made his heart skip a beat. There, in the center of the room, was a small table, and on it, a set of documents spread out, as if someone had been examining them not long ago. Next to the papers was a half-burned candle, the wax still warm, slowly solidifying. Someone had been here, and they might still be close. The realization sent a cold wave of dread washing over him.

He glanced around, half-expecting someone to step out of the shadows, but the room remained still, silent. The documents were old, the edges yellowed with age, but they were clearly important—blueprints, diagrams, handwritten notes. Ethan reached out, his hand trembling as he picked up one of the sheets. The handwriting was unfamiliar, but the name scrawled across the top made his blood run cold. It was his mother’s name, clear as day, along with a date that suggested she had been here not long before she disappeared.

Ethan’s mind raced, his heart pounding in his chest. Whoever had been here had left in a hurry, but why? Were they coming back? Was he being watched, even now? The sense of foreboding that had been lingering at the edges of his consciousness suddenly felt like a tangible weight, pressing down on him. He was too close now to turn back, but the fear gnawing at him was stronger than ever. Whatever he was about to uncover, it wasn’t just about his mother’s past anymore. It was about his own survival, and he wasn’t sure he was ready for what he might find.