Page 52 of Ethereally Redeemed

I nod, unable to speak as I breathe deeply.

“I would go to the ends of the world and ruin everything that ever hurt you, if only to allow you the peace of mind you deserve. You’ve been through so much, my little doll. So fucking much. And I’m so proud of you for surviving.”

My throat tightens, and the words won’t come. Instead, I manage, “I’m not sure what we’re searching for. But I’m sure we can find something that can give us a better clue of the dealings between Emilio and Frederick.” I step closer to the house, scanning the area for anything that might give us a lead.

This is not a place you can venture without risking the entire façade falling apart. Every creak of the weakened structurethreatens to bury us.

As Grey and I cautiously pick our way through the wreckage, something clicks in my mind that makes me freeze mid-step.

“The basement,” I whisper, the words barely escaping me.

“What?”

I scan the ruins, desperately trying to find the entrance to the basement underneath all the remnants. “There was a basement. Children told all sorts of tales and horrors about it. But it was made of stone. Surely, it must have made it through the fire?”

Thinking deeply, he nods. “If it’s made of stone, it wouldn’t have burned up. We just got to find it. Do you remember where the entrance might have been?”

Memories take me back to the parlor room, where the doll master used to announce the monthly games, until we were all forced to venture outside in wait for further instructions. I used to slip out of the house undetected to escape some of the games, but not all of them. I remember seeing a door to the far right, on the opposite side of the parlor room. Stairs leading down until it reached another door, leading into the basement room where the doll master used to force those children that disobeyed him. I shudder at the memory, but as I look up at the wreckage once more, I can recognize the remnants of what used to be the parlor room.

My heart is a thunder underneath my ribcage, pounding hard as if trying to escape the confines of my bones, and I step over scorched planks and remnants of furniture as I climb my way to what used to be the parlor room.

“It should be here somewhere,” I mutter, Grey tight on my heels. “There used to be stairs leading downstairs, and then a door indicating the basement.”

He lifts planks, using all his strength to search through the area in desperate need of finding that door. “Why is the basement important?”

“He used to take children down there to punish them if they disobeyed. Legends were spread that if you once ventured down, you would never return. It’s a far shot, but maybe that’s where he stashed papers? If no one was allowed there, and no one dared go down because of legends, wouldn’t it make it the perfect place to hide secret papers?” I ask, lifting away what used to be a couch, its fabric long gone. “I know he never stashed important papers in his own office on the other side of the manor.”

I know, because I used to hide from the games there, learning his routines of when he came and went.

Far ahead, there’s tape restricting the area from any trespasser like us, but something tells me the police didn’t care enough to search through the perimeters properly. They most likely wrote it off as unimportant.

“Naya,” Grey calls from where he stands a few meters away, looking at me.

I carefully climb my way over to him, making sure not to trip and fall over the debris scattered across the ground. He’s holding up a plank, having dug up a hole where the stairs once stood.

And there, at the bottom, lies the rusted remains of what used to be the metal door leading to the horror chamber in the basement.

Chapter 19

Naya

“Holy shit,” the darktimbres of Grey’s voice washes over me as he hauls himself over the debris that was once the staircase.

Holy shit, indeed.

He braces himself, leaning against the dirt-streaked stone walls that had been hidden beneath the floorboards. Standing amidst ruins, he glances at the looming, metallic door—the bane of this place’s existence, and the source of every nightmare at Grimhill Manor.

I suck in a sharp breath, nerves coiling tight inside me like a nest of thorns.

“Are you ready?” he asks, making sure I’m alright.

“No, but if it means we get the slightest inkling of what’s going on, then I have to be.”

Without another word, he offers his hand, and I lower to my knees before jumping down the hole into the darkness below. Grey’s hand wraps around my waist to steady me, my eyes meeting his in a wondrous concoction—a blend of longing and something darker, full of lingering lust that both heats something deep within but also makes me wary.

His eyes speak volumes; a seductive touch trailing over my body like calloused fingers—a touchohso burning and fierce, yet dangerous.

He releases me and turns to the heavy metal door. With a grunt, he pushes against it with his shoulder, and to my surprise, it opens with a creak that rattles my bone. A sound that seems to echo through the labyrinth of memories this place holds over me.

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