Chapter 3 - The Ghost in the Master Bedroom
I didn't wait to inspect the other bags. The terrifying reality of the situation crashed down upon me with the force of a tidal wave. If Julian had done this—if he had brought that into the pool—where was Elena? Was she a victim, an accomplice, or had she fled in terror before she could become his next target?
I left the pool area behind, my boots leaving muddy tracks across the sliding glass patio door. The door was unlocked; Julian’s arrogance or haste had left a glaring vulnerability. I slid the glass panel open with a soft screech and stepped directly into the kitchen.
The interior of the house was eerily pristine, completely detached from the chaos and neglect of the backyard. The marble countertops were spotless, the stainless-steel appliances gleamed under recessed lighting, and a half-empty bottle of expensive red wine sat next to two crystal glasses on the kitchen island. It looked like a normal, affluent family home—except for the oppressive, suffocating silence that filled every room.
"Elena?" I called out, my voice echoing hollowly through the high-ceilinged hallway. No response.
I drew my phone from my pocket, dialing her number on automatic reflex. Faintly, a muffled, rhythmic vibration hummed from somewhere deep within the living room. I followed the sound to a plush velvet sofa. Resting face-down between the cushions was Elena’s phone—screen cracked, battery completely dead.
Panic tightened its grip around my chest. She hadn't been texting me back for three days because her phone had been abandoned here. But where was she? Had Julian hurt her too? Was she locked in a room upstairs, or worse... was she inside one of those bags sitting at the bottom of the green pool?
I bolted up the hardwood stairs, the steps groaning beneath my weight. The second-floor landing branched off into three doors: a guest room, Maya’s ransacked bedroom, and the master suite at the end of the hall. The door to the master suite was closed, a thin sliver of darkness visible underneath.
I approached slowly, my heart pounding against my ribs like a trapped bird. I pushed the door open, the heavy wood swinging inward with a soft click.
The master bedroom was dark, the heavy drapes blocking out the afternoon light. But even in the dim illumination, the signs of a violent struggle were undeniable. The king-sized bed was unmade, sheets twisted and torn. A designer floor lamp lay shattered on the hardwood floor, its glass shade pulverized into a thousand glittering fragments.
And sitting on the edge of the mattress, rocking back and forth with her arms wrapped tightly around her knees, was Elena.
"Elena!" I gasped, rushing forward and dropping to my knees in front of her.
She flinched violently, letting out a sharp, gasping cry as she threw her hands up to shield her face. When her wide, bloodshot eyes finally focused on me, the recognition seemed to take a agonizingly long time to register. Her face was pale, her cheeks stained with dried tears, and her lower lip split and bruised.
"David...?" she whispered, her voice a fragile, broken rasp. "Oh God, David... you're here. How did you... how did you find us?"
"I came looking for Maya because she hadn't answered my calls in three days," I said rapidly, grabbing her ice-cold hands. "I found her locked in a dog cage in the backyard, Elena! What the hell is going on here? Who did this to her? And what is in those bags in the pool?!"
At the mention of the pool, Elena’s body went completely rigid. A wave of stark, unadulterated terror washed over her features, and she began to hyperventilate, her chest heaving as she clawed frantically at my sleeves.
"He's coming back," she choked out, her voice dropping to a hysterical whisper. "Julian... he said he was going away for business until Tuesday, but he always comes back early. If he finds you here—if he finds us—he'll kill us all, David. He'll kill us all!"
"Elena, listen to me!" I shook her gently, trying to snap her out of her panic. "Julian isn't going to hurt anyone anymore. I saw what he did. I saw the cage. I saw the bags in the pool. We are calling the police right now. Who is in those bags, Elena? What did he do?!"
Elena stared at me, her eyes brimming with a dark, terrifying secret. She opened her mouth to speak, but before a single word could escape, a sudden, sharp sound echoed from the ground floor below.
Click.
The front door unlocking. Heavy, measured footsteps stepped into the foyer.
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Elena’s face drained of the last remaining drop of color. She grabbed my collar, pulling me close to her face, her whisper a final, chilling confirmation of our doom:
"He's back."
