The Wolves ✓

5; voltage

Freya walked into the bedroom upstairs while Greg was asleep downstairs. She pushed past the door and turned on the light. It was dusty, to say the least. Nothing had been moved or touched there in a while.

She approached the wardrobe and opened it, slightly guilty that she was going through a dead woman's personal items. However, she was curious as to what the men wanted so bad. 

Throwing her clothes on the bed, she checked every corner of the wardrobe but found nothing. Bending down, Freya pulled the mattress up and slid in her hand to see if there was anything there.

Unfortunately, there wasn't.

Freya sighed and pushed her hair back into a pony tail. She searched the room quietly when it finally dawned on her. There could be something in Mr. Jones' study room.

She walked into the room and searched the drawers. Minutes later, she looked at the painting that took up most of the space on the wall and tilted it, slightly.

Bingo.

She was looking at a safe built into the wall. Setting the frame aside, she chewed her bottom lip. She needed a key for it.

"Freya?"

Freya spun around, her hand on her chest. "Jesus, Greg! You scared the crap out of me."

Greg raised his eyebrows, "Well, sorry. What are you doing?"

"I was looking for something."

Greg tilted his head and looked at the box behind Freya. "In that?"

"Maybe."

"Why?"

"Because I want to know what that guy wanted to find."

"Well? Have you found it?"

"No, it's locked and I need a key."

"Hmm."

"Where do you think he'd keep the key?"

"I don't know," Greg shrugged, yawning.

Freya sighed, "Let's go to sleep, this can wait til the morning."

Greg nodded and walked out before Freya followed, closing the door behind them.

•

The next morning, Freya switched the fan on with a cup of apple juice in her other hand.

"Hey," she said, sitting next to Greg who was drawing on a notepad he'd found.

"Hey," he mumbled.

Suddenly, there was a buzzing sound, causing Freya to straighten up. "What was that?"

And then the fan slowly came to a halt.

Freya put her cup on the table and went to the switch, trying the lights but they wouldn't work.

"The power's out," she realised.

"Can we fix it?"

"I'll go check," she said, walking out of the room.

She opened the basement door and took the phone out of her pocket. "Come on, Freya," she said to herself under her breath before walking down the stairs.

Finding the electric box, she opened it and held her phone near to see clearly.

She frowned as she smelled something burning and shut the main switch off in panic. Looking at the wire's covering that had come off, she sighed and was about to walk away when something caught her eye.

The basement window, a small one that was previously boarded up with wood had now come undone. She walked closer to it, her heart thumping. Raising her phone torch in the air, she looked around on the walls and then realised that there were no charms on them.

Freya heard something shuffle from near the boiler. Forcing her hand to the side, she thought she saw a pale figure scurry behind the boxes.

Freya's instincts kicked in and she ran towards the stairs, her heart thumping. As soon as she got out, she slammed the door and called Greg.

Locking it, she ran into the bedroom across the hall.

"What happened?" Greg asked, alarmed seeing her push a table out of the room.

"Help me," she said.

Greg helped her push the table and when it was finally in place, she ran for the paint.

"Freya, you're scaring me."

"It's fine, it's fine, I'll handle this," she said, climbing on top of the table and painting a symbol over the door and then two more on either side.

"There's one of them downstairs," she said, finally.

Greg's eyes widened, "Wait, one of them?"

"It broke through the window downstairs," she sighed, putting the paint aside.

"What do we do now?"

"Well, hopefully that will ward off the creature from actually leaving the basement and entering the house. But what we have to do, is find that key to the safe upstairs."

Greg nodded, slowly. "I can check the bedrooms."

"Okay, I'll search the kitchen and the rest."

Greg walked off into the bedroom while Freya went into the kitchen. She began with the cabinets and worked her way towards the drawers under the counter when something shimmered from the trees.

Freya froze and leaned over the sink, her eyes on the bodies outside. The unmistakable glimmer of a piece of metal caught her eye from Mrs. Jones' neck.

"Greg," she called. "I think I know where they kept the key."

Greg walked in a moment later, "Where?"

Freya pointed to the window and when Greg finally saw what she was pointing at, he took a step back. "Oh no."

"Well, shit," Freya muttered under her breath

•