Rain had stopped. The streetlights smeared across wet asphalt, stretching into the dark. The mansion waited, hunched and out of time. Shuttered windows, boards nailed tight. The façade drooped, heavy with years. Rusted signs hung from the gate, swaying, whispering warnings to anyone who might come close.

Jared’s stomach twisted. The Dark shifted under his skin, restless, hungry. Adrian pulled into the drive. The mansion gave nothing back. No lights. No movement. Just the wind threading through broken gutters.

“Looks vacant,” Adrian said, glancing at the house. “No cars, no signs of recent activity.”

Jared stepped out. Gravel bit under his boots. The air was thick. Damp wood, rot, mildew, sharp in his nose. “Great. Perfect creepy old house vibes. Totally normal.” His voice was thin, cracking. He didn’t wait. He moved for the door, coat pulled tight, as if it could keep the place out.

Adrian followed, key and data pad in hand. He slung his med pack over his shoulder.

Jared reached for the door. His hand hovered, inches from the handle. The lock shimmered, faint and cold. Dark pulsed through his fingers, familiar, unwelcome. The mechanism pushed back, resisting. The Dark surged from his chest, down his arm, meeting the barrier. Energy curled around his hand, warning. Not welcome.

Adrian stepped close. Silent. Jared tried to steady his breath. Adrian’s calm pressed against him, a quiet anchor. He didn’t know. Couldn’t know what was already clawing under Jared’s skin.

Ignorance is bliss.

“You ready?” Adrian asked.

Jared exhaled, sharp and quick. No answer. He forced the door, Dark pressed through the handle, biting. The lock clicked, reluctant. He stepped inside. The door snapped shut behind him, final.

Darkness and rot. Mold and dust pressed close, thick as breath. Floorboards groaned underfoot. Dust coated everything. Furniture hidden under sheets. Animal heads watched from the walls, glass eyes unblinking. Shadows clung to the corners. Something shifted, aware.

Jared stopped. Heart pounding, breath ragged. Hands clenched at his sides. The Dark curled along his ribs, curious, twitching. It whispered behind his eyes, questions he didn’t want to hear.

Darkness pressed in. The earth’s scent, heavy, suffocating. Hollowed people, chained and left to rot...

Adrian's flashlight cut a path through the gloom. He aimed it at the edges of the furniture and hovered over the Egyptian-themed décor. Statues, plaques, and hieroglyphics covered almost every available surface.

They stepped through the entryway and into a small, neglected kitchen. Piles of unwashed dishes leaned in chaotic stacks. A smear of something sticky remained on the counter. The fridge was barely stocked. Adrian crouched to inspect the contents with a practiced eye, as if judging the living habits of someone long gone.

"Looks like someone was actually living here," he said softly. "Probably LeMere."

Jared’s stomach knotted. Dark slipped past his grip, seeping out. He wanted to scrub himself raw. No soap could touch what this place left on him.

“Great,” he muttered. “Just the kind of cozy, lived-in horror I was hoping for.”

They moved, carefully, Jared leading. Pistols drawn. Adrian’s light swept ahead, cutting a path. Old habits. Easy, automatic.

Every creak, every shuffle in the dark crawled under Jared’s skin. Movement flickered at the edge of the light. Small. Alive. Scratching. Scuttling.

Scratching above. Jared’s breath caught. The Dark flexed, billowing out, then pulling back. He breathed in the room, the Dark filling his lungs. He felt them. Small things, moving in the dark. Dozens.

Adrian’s hand brushed his arm. Not restraint. A reminder. Grounding. Jared swallowed, nodded. His voice tangled in his chest, caught in the Dark’s pulse.

At the stairs, the air thickened, heavy, pressing down. Jared moved slowly, weighted. Adrian followed, light, untouched by the Dark. Symbols carved into the bannister pulsed at the edge of vision. Faint, almost not there.

The Dark rippled inside. Something tugged, pulling him up. He gripped the banister, trying to anchor himself. Symbols flashed behind his eyes. He moved, not entirely by choice.

Adrian followed silently, stepping carefully behind him. No words. No light chatter. Just the rhythm of boots against wood and the occasional creak of the old structure.

Top floor. A bedroom. The door was wrong. Arcane, locked tight. Jared stepped forward, Adrian at his back. The lock pushed back, resisting. He holstered his pistol and pressed his hand to the door. Breath ragged. Something inside pulled at him, even as the door shoved him away.

His joints ground against stone. Pain, sharp and deep. Adrian’s hand pressed to his back. The pressure eased, just enough. Jared gripped the handle, let the Dark go. No finesse, just force. It surged out, wrapped him in shadow, tendrils unfurling, tasting the room.

Dark slid down his arm, through his hand. The door clicked. A trap: dart, blue venom, fire in his neck. Adrian’s hands, quick, sure, pushed his own away.

"Leave it," he ordered.

Jared sagged against the doorframe. Adrian worked fast: sample, scan, dart out, patch pressed to skin. Two quick injections.

"That better?" Adrian asked.

"Yeah," Jared said. He straightened himself. "Thanks."

He went to rub the area, but Adrian swatted his hand away.

"Leave it alone," he said.

Jared snorted.

He saw it then. His Dark had wrapped Adrian, too. Both of them were caught in a swirl of black, shadows writhing around their feet.

"It's not harming me," Adrian stated.

Jared hissed, teeth bared. Weapon drawn. He turned, peering into the room. The pull was still there, insistent, hungry.

A temple of rot and obsession. Candles crowded around a gold statue. The Egyptian god Seth, watching. Incense and decay tangled in the air. Lines and circles carved into marble, hieroglyphics he couldn’t read. In the center, a podium. The tome waited. Old. It called to him, not with words, but with a pull deep in his chest.

Jared holstered his pistols. Calm, sudden, and strange, it settled over him. The Dark coiled, twitching. The tome hummed, alive. Promises whispered: knowledge, freedom, power, peace. Each word slipped into the hollow places in his mind, prying them open. A voice, soft and seductive, brushed against the broken edges inside him.

Adrian noticed the change immediately. He reached out, hand firm on Jared’s arm, before he could lean forward. “Don’t,” he said quietly. “Step back.”

He felt it. A touch in the emptiness of his chest. Promises to fill the hollow, to mend the broken edges, to make him whole. The Dark surged out, filling the room, pulsing with his heartbeat. Jared’s fists clenched. Muscles taut, nerves burning. The tome’s voice grew, filling him.

He was one of the people in the darkness. He was hollowed out and left for dead.

Seductive. Patient. It promised everything. No judgment, only release. The pull to let go, to fall into the abyss it offered.

And then the sound began: soft scuttling. Tiny claws clicking across stone. Shadows rippled along the edges of the room. Adrian’s flashlight beam caught the first movement. A fist-sized, grotesque form crawling along the floor. Another joined it. Then another. The hands moved like spiders. They were disjointed and scuttling with deliberate hunger.

Jared screamed. The Dark hissed and pulsed. He could feel the book moving inside his mind. It promised him everything. He tried to move towards the book, but Adrian’s grip held firm on his arm.

The crawling hands multiplied, coming from every corner and every shadow. They moved fast. The sound of fingers scraping stone and nails tapping on wood filled the room with a chorus of unnatural life.

Adrian shifted so he was standing in front of Jared with his back towards the book. He put an arm around Jared.

“Stay close. Don’t panic.”

Dizzy. Power, horror, seduction. So close he could taste it. He felt himself unravelling, wanting it more than anything. The Dark shrank, wrapping just the two of them in a thin veil of shadow. Jared leaned into Adrian.

One hand scuttled toward him, twitching unnaturally. Adrian moved quickly, stomping on the hand.

“Focus on me,” Adrian said. “Not them. Not it.”

Hands clicked, circled, probed. More and more, inching closer. The Dark surged from the tome, shoving at him, urging obedience. Jared’s eyes found Adrian’s. Calm, steady, holding him here.

He let out a shaky breath and forced his hands to unclench. Adrian’s gaze never wavered from him.

“We can handle this,” Adrian said quietly. “Together. You don’t need to touch it.”

Jared nodded, his voice gone.

Adrian moved, light, deliberate. Kicked a hand aside. Drew his pistol, shots precise, each one measured. He guided Jared back, step by step, in control against the chaos.

The tome pulsed once more, soft and insistent. Jared’s fingers twitched toward it, but Adrian’s hand caught his wrist, iron against his own.

“Not now,” Adrian said. “Not until we understand it.”

The tome hissed. Hands clicked, closing in. They stepped back, Adrian leading, Jared following. Heart pounding. The whisper of forbidden knowledge lingered, echoing in the dark corners of his mind.

Once back in the bedroom, Adrian slammed the door shut.

The bedroom was a refuge, but thin. The door shuddered, the house resenting them. Beyond: scraping, skittering clicks grew louder. Jared’s pulse hammered. The Dark coiled, restless, reaching for the door, for the book. It wanted him to go back. To give in.

Adrian set his shoulder against the door, bracing it. “We’re not done,” he said, voice low, urgent.

Jared nodded, hands shaking. Claws pressed at the door, knuckles scraping, nails tapping, precise and relentless. Thump. Another. The room called them forward.

The first hand slipped through. Small, spindly, moving too fast, too sure. Fingers jerked like spider legs, claws scraping as they lunged. Jared raised his pistol, hands shaking, and fired. Bones splintered, fragments scattered.

Adrian moved with deadly precision. Each shot was calculated, measured, and carefully aimed to intercept the advancing horrors. He didn’t hesitate, didn’t flinch. One hand lunged at Jared from the side; Adrian’s shot caught it midair. Another hand crawled up the bedpost toward Jared’s shoulder; Adrian snapped the barrel of his pistol downward, crushing it flat against the wooden frame.

“Jared! Focus!” Adrian’s voice cut through. Jared’s eyes snapped to him. Panic, longing for the book, both fighting inside. Hands surged closer. One leapt for his foot. He kicked, bone snapping, but another crawled up behind. The Dark pressed in, coiling, whispering. Just touch the tome, just end it, be whole.

“No!” Adrian’s voice was sharp, urgent. He shoved Jared back, pistol flashing again. The shots were clean, each hand that dared approach meeting the cold precision of the gun. A wave of clicks answered the recoil, but the hands hesitated at the sight of Adrian’s unwavering presence.

The room blurred. Hands everywhere, skittering up walls, leaping from the dark. Jared’s breath tore in and out. The Dark shrieked, seduction whispering at the edge of thought. Knowledge, release, power. Adrian stayed, solid, pushing back against hands and the tome’s pull.

A rhythm. Shoot. Step. Kick. He and Adrian moved as one, each covering the other. The hands were fast, but they were faster. Claws crushed, shot, stomped. The clicking grew frantic, desperate.

The last hand fell, twitching, done. Silence crashed down, heavy. Shadows clung to the corners, empty now. Only the Dark’s hum, the tome’s whisper, and their ragged breath remained.

Jared slid down the wall, chest heaving. Adrian dropped beside him, hand steady on his shoulder. “You okay?”

Jared swallowed hard. “I… yeah. I think so.”

The tome’s whisper lingered, patient, seductive. He felt it pulling, promising, but he stayed where he was.

Adrian’s gaze was steady. "Now, let's take care of the book."

Jared watched Adrian move, hands sure, eyes focused.

Adrian stepped back from the pedestal. Tablet out, fingers moving fast. He called them all in. Containment for the book, forensics for the rest, Clean Up for the hands. The mansion’s silence broke as vehicles pulled up outside.

Adrian’s voice cut through the gathering noise, sharp and authoritative, “Secure the basement and sweep for residual Dark. Entry on the east wing. Coordinate extraction of the tome and all artifacts. Containment shields up at all times. No direct contact until the field is stable. We cannot risk contamination.”

No questions, no hesitation. Adrian was efficient, exact. Orders sharp and precise. Jared watched, admiration and envy tangled inside. Adrian commanded without effort. No doubt, no falter. Everyone listened. Jared wished he could do the same.

Teams moved in, precise. Containment gear, analyzers, and wards. They settled in fast; efficient.

Adrian put away his tablet and came over to where Jared was watching him.

"That's everything for now," he said, putting a hand on the small of Jared's back.

Jared nodded. Hands itching, Dark coiling under his skin. He wanted to touch the tome, just once. To feel its knowledge burn through him. Adrian’s calm held him back, kept the urge from tipping over.

Adrian gestured toward the door. “Let's go home.”

The drive back was silent. Jared watched the world blur past the window.

At Jared’s apartment, Adrian led the way in. Keys, door, living room. Jared followed slowly.

"Let me check your injuries," he said, pointing to the couch.

Jared leaned against the wall, watching Adrian set up. The mansion still pressed against him. Whispers from the tome, the itch of hands on his skin, the Dark pulsing in his chest. Adrian knelt by the sofa, opening a kit full of tools Jared didn’t know. Every movement was methodical, controlled.

Jared’s voice was brittle. “You don’t have to do that.”

Adrian looked up briefly, eyes softening for a fraction of a second before professionalism reclaimed them. “I want to make sure you’re alright.”

Jared swallowed, words stuck. He wanted to say something, but nothing came. He slumped onto the couch, pushing things onto the floor but not paying attention to that. Adrian crouched beside him, checking scanner readings, hands steady, hovering close but not touching.

“You’ll be okay,” Adrian said softly.

Jared wanted to believe. But the Dark slid through his guts, twisting doubt tight. How could he be okay with this thing inside him?

“How do we stop it?” Jared asked, voice raw.

Adrian’s eyes met his. “We stopped it from hurting you tonight. That’s enough. We don’t control it. We contain it, we wait, we learn. That’s how we survive.”

Jared nodded. It would be so easy. Just reach into the Dark, let go. He clenched his fists. Adrian said nothing, just sat beside him. Minutes passed. Silence. The equipment hummed, lights blinking as it scanned.

Adrian reached over, brushed damp hair from Jared’s forehead. The touch was light, careful. Jared froze, heart pounding. He wanted to look away, to pretend it was nothing. But he didn’t. Not really.

“You need to rest,” Adrian said, voice low and gentle.

Jared exhaled sharply. Stared at his feet. Nothing to say. Silence. Adrian didn’t press, just settled on the sofa’s edge. The closeness was almost too much.

Jared noticed everything. Adrian’s shoulders, the calm in his eyes, hands always ready. The truth pressed in. He’d followed Adrian not just for duty, but trust. Something deeper. Something he was afraid to name.

Adrian finally spoke again. “I'll take care of your wounds.”

He started with the small abrasions. He cleaned each quickly and efficiently. Jared flinched, but didn’t pull away.

He gave him another shot. "The dart's residue is neutralized. That should help you feel better in a bit."

“You’re not seriously injured,” Adrian said. He was looking down at the equipment's readouts.

Jared nodded, a weak laugh escaping him. “I feel… not okay, anyway.”

Adrian didn’t respond immediately, simply meeting his gaze and giving him the space to admit his own fear without words. Jared swallowed hard. The admission caught somewhere between pride and terror. The Dark stirred again at the edges of his consciousness. Whispering, pressing, urging him to lean into it, to surrender just a little so he could finally know peace.

“You want me to stay?” Adrian asked, voice soft.

Jared hesitated, swallowing hard.

“You don’t have to,” he muttered, though his words lacked conviction.

Adrian’s hand hovered, then rested lightly on the couch beside him.

“…I want to,” he said simply.

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