The heavy iron gates of Cedarbrook Estates glinted under the afternoon sun as Malcolm’s sleek luxury car pulled into the sweeping circular driveway. Beside him sat his radiant new bride, admiring the grand limestone facade that she believed was the foundation of her glamorous new life. Malcolm leaned back against the leather headrest, a smug, self-satisfied grin spreading across his face as he reached for the garage remote, eager to show off the ultimate symbol of his success.
He pressed the small button once, then twice, but the massive carved wooden doors remained completely motionless. Assuming the battery had died, he stepped out into the humid summer air, flashing his signature confident smile toward his glowing bride while reaching into his jacket for his brass house key. When he jammed the key into the heavy front deadbolt, it jammed tight, refusing to turn even a fraction of an inch against the completely replaced tumbler.
His smile flickered and died as he noticed the small, official brass plaque newly screwed into the brickwork beside the entryway door. The house was no longer listed under his name, and the corporate entity owning the property had already been dissolved and liquidized hours before his plane touched down. Who was standing quietly in the shadows behind the frosted glass door? Go to the next part to discover the horrifying truth…
