I felt tense and uneasy as I trudged through the dark, gloomy halls of the Hedquist manor. I had been in the homes of alchemists before- but I had never felt so sick to my stomach from the amount of corrupted magic in the air. It seemed to pervade every shadowed corner of the mansion, from the black walls sparsely decorated with gothic portraits and paintings to the thin grey carpet which created a pathway along the black marble floors.

This place was like a void, empty of any signs of warmth, pulling at me like it wanted to drain me of every ounce of vitality until I was a husk of myself just as empty as this godforsaken manor: a pretty exterior, with nothing inside.

I wrapped my arms around myself, shivering as I tried not to pay attention to the portraits on the walls; they all carried familiar features of Ian and his relatives, sharp eyes seeming to follow me as Ian’s grip on my leash dragged me further into the heart of their home. The further we walked, the emptier the halls became- as if there were no need to put on the facade of a wealthy, venerable family. Even the door became few and far between, until the hallway we walked ended in a single, thick metal door with several locks over its dark surface.

My stomach churned as I noticed spots of red along the bottom of the door- rust, or blood, I couldn’t tell. I wasn’t sure I wanted to know, as I watched Ian retrieve a ring of small keys from his pocket. It took four of them to open each of the door’s locks, my nerves fraught as I tried to remember the pattern in case I could by some miracle attempt a quick escape.

Ian’s gaze was knowing as he looked back at me, as if he could read the thoughts from my focus. A faint smirk curved his lips as he tucked the keys back into his pocket before reaching for the long, bar handle of the door.

My heart sank as I felt sick magic coil outward from the door, sigils that had been unnoticeable against the dark gray metal glowing with a faint sheen of rusty red. It slithered around Ian’s hand, sinking into his skin for a moment before withdrawing; a hidden lock clicked, and the door opened at Ian’s pull.

He glanced back again, his voice deep and smooth as he explained, “It’s bloodborne magic. It won’t save you from my relatives, unfortunately, but it means nobody other than my direct family members can enter… or exit.” There was a thinly veiled warning under his words, Ian’s periwinkle eyes flashed with a danger that sent another shiver down my spine.

Despite his clear intent, a flicker of relief calmed my thoughts; I’d gotten around this kind of magic before. If Ian dropped his guard, if only for a moment, it would be simple enough to do it again. 

His knowing eyes seemed to read my thoughts again, Ian’s hand jerking at the chain and tugging me a step forward so I was pressed almost flush against him. “Even if I dare to have a moment of weakness around an arcanist as powerful as you, it won’t work out in your favor. The ward requires living proof- painting your hands in my blood won’t fool it.”

My face paled, and I flinched back as I dropped my eyes from his harsh, cold gaze. I wasn’t sure what I hated more- that I had been considering such a brutal act so calmly, or that Ian had been able to see through me so easily.

His soft scoff brought my gaze back up to him, the leash between us snapping taught as he stepped into the dim opening which led down to the basement. “Come with me, before I change my mind about you being worth the risk and toss you to my uncle.”

Bile rose in the back of my throat, my eyes narrowing at the back of his head. It didn’t feel like an idle threat, so I forced myself to step forward, my foot hitting the first stair and the door closing immediately behind me with a solid, heavy click of locks falling back into place.

It shut us into complete darkness for a moment before I heard the rustle of Ian moving in front of me. He was close enough that I could faintly make out his outline as he stretched a hand out toward the wall. My skin crawled as his fingers brushed the surface and artificial magic sparked to life; lanterns flickered in alcoves leading down the sharply angled stone steps.

Softly glowing symbols bridged the distance between the glowing lamps, and I tried not to watch them- to track the way they seemed to shift over the stones. I didn’t want to see it any more than I wanted to inspect whatever fluid filled the lamps; the thick glass jars were locked with sturdy lids, ringed by circles of runes that made my stomach churn. 

Sickly green light pooled over the dark stone, unease clawing with cold fingers at the edges of my thoughts. The garish color brought out the dark bruises around Ian’s neck, fresh marks already beginning to form from his grandfather’s rough treatment. The way it the lamps underlit Ian’s sharp features made him look like something inhuman, the kind of monster my parents had whispered cautionary tales of when I was younger… the kind of monster his grandfather seemed to be.

“Going to stand there all day?” Ian’s dry tone dragged me out of the spiralling thoughts, bringing me back to the moment to see him a few steps down. The leash was taught again in his hand, glowing links extended between us.

I stared at him in silence for a moment, wondering why he hadn’t simply yanked me forward. Was he too concerned I would fall into him and send us both tumbling to the basement floor? It was the only obvious answer, because I couldn’t believe it was out of any concern for my comfort. I swallowed, rubbing at my throat where the sick magic of his contract was a constant ache against my skin. “Do we have somewhere better to be?”

Ian surprised me with a faint chuckle, some of the tight lines of his face easing. His blue-gray eyes met mine, a slight smirk on his lips as he said, “Don’t you want to know why I really brought you here?” His taunting grin grew at my sharply indrawn breath, as if he knew he’d caught me. “I have answers for you- but not ones I am willing to impart here. Follow me… or don’t. The choice is yours.”

With those words, Ian stepped away from me. I stiffened, expecting to feel the pull of the leash topple me forward. Instead, with a shimmer of unnatural magic, the chain began to lengthen which each step Ian took further down into the depths of the mansion. My fingers reached for the links, mystified by the sensation of trying to touch them; I could feel the cool metal, but only as a tingle, a ghost of a physical construct. Ghostly, but unbreakable, producing a tug at my thoughts that lured me forward as surely as any tangible pressure.

I let my hand drop, my gaze finally reluctantly turning to the lamp closest to me. The fluid inside was viscous, lapping at the sides of the glass in small waves that seemed to stick to the slick surface. As the sound of Ian’s footsteps began to fade, so did the light of the runes. The liquid inside the lamp from its sickly glow to something entirely different: an unmistakable, deep red that caught only faint glimmers of the remaining radiance of the unnatural magic.

It struck a chord of fear through me as I turned my gaze back, for a brief moment, to the door which had sealed me into the basement. I had no idea what awaited me below, what other horrors Ian was capable of, but of one thing I was certain; if I had to choose between descending to unknown horrors, or facing the brutal man who had stood before us only minutes ago, the answer was clear.

So I took the first step forward, and chose the lesser of two evils as I followed Ian into the depths.