Page 56 of Not This Time

Rachel's gaze locked onto a tree, where she noticed a distinct marking on its trunk. A vibrant paint splatter stood out against the rough bark, reflecting the moonlight.

"Look at that," she whispered to Ethan, pointing at the tree. "I've seen this before."

"Are you sure?" he asked, his voice barely audible.

"Positive," she replied, determination lacing her words.

They approached the tree cautiously, careful not to make a sound. Rachel took out her phone and snapped several photos of the paint for evidence.

This wasn't the first time she'd seen a streak of strange paint on the Clark Ranch. She thought back to the first victim, wrinkling her nose.

"Alright, let's keep moving," Rachel said, putting her phone back in her pocket.

Ethan didn't reply. He'd gone still by a fence post, and was leaning against it.

"What?" she called.

He pointed towards a small house nestled within a clearing. The dilapidated structure seemed to be swallowed by the darkness that surrounded it.

"Wait a minute," Ethan murmured, his brow furrowing in thought. "That's Jeb's place."

"Jeb Clark?" Rachel questioned, recalling the man and his shotgun.

Ethan just nodded and began moving, slowly, heading towards the house.

As they moved towards the structure in the woods, Rachel couldn't help but feel a mixture of anticipation and dread. The paint marking, the eerie location, and now Jeb's mysterious house – it all seemed to be converging into something much bigger.

"Stay close," Ethan whispered, his voice betraying the slightest hint of trepidation.

As they neared the house, Rachel's eyes were drawn to more of the same paint markings she had seen on the tree earlier. They adorned the front of the house like a sinister graffiti artist's signature, their purpose just as enigmatic. The sight sent a shiver down her spine.

"Look," Rachel whispered, pointing at the markings. "It's the same paint."

Ethan nodded, his jaw set firm as he scanned the area for any signs of danger. "Stay sharp," he advised. "There could be traps. It's Jeb," he added as explanation.

Rachel took a deep breath, attempting to steady her racing heart. Each step felt more treacherous than the last, her sweaty palms betraying her anticipation.

As they approached the open door, Rachel's shallow breathing intensified, the air seeming to grow thinner with every inhale. She tried to focus on the task at hand, pushing aside the mounting dread that threatened to overwhelm her.

"Let's check for any wires or triggers before we go inside," Ethan suggested, his voice low and cautious.

"Good idea," Rachel agreed, swallowing hard. Their eyes scanned the entryway, searching for anything out of the ordinary.

Taking one last steadying breath, they stepped through the threshold.

The musty air inside the house clung to their lungs like a suffocating embrace, making it even harder for Rachel to breathe. The creaking floorboards beneath their feet added an eerie soundtrack to their cautious exploration. They moved in tandem, each taking turns to cover the other as they navigated the darkened rooms.

Rachel frowned, trying to shake off the cold sweat forming on her brow.

The dim light from the hallway filtered through the crack, revealing a sliver of what lay beyond. "I'm going to check that room," Rachel said.

"Be careful," Ethan warned, his eyes never leaving the papers.

As she approached the door, her instincts screamed at her to tread lightly.

She paused, standing in front of the door.

For a brief moment, it was as if time lingered, suspended.

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