The Silent Shadows of Blackwood Mansion

The night in the ossuary was anything but peaceful. Even though the air was thick with the scent of dust and the heavy silence of forgotten souls, there was a lingering tension. Ethan Blackwood's resolve remained steadfast. As the dawn broke through the cracks in the old crematorium walls, he wasted no time pulling out his phone, dialing the number of his superior at the funeral home. His tone was calm, almost too casual, as if what he was about to say bore no weight.

"I won't be in for the next couple of days. Got some personal stuff to handle," Ethan stated, his voice steady, and without waiting for a response, he hung up.

The audacity of it left me stunned. I couldn't help but ask, "Aren't you worried they'll fire you for calling in like that?"

Ethan chuckled darkly. "If they had the guts to fire me, I'd thank them. Trust me, even if I didn't show up for a year, they wouldn't dare get rid of me."

His nonchalance only made me more envious. I had responsibilities—ones I couldn't shirk without consequences. Reluctantly, I reminded him, "Well, unlike you, I need to go back to the office and get approval for some time off. I also need to borrow a couple of hidden cameras."

Ethan smirked but didn't argue. We got into his hearse—a dark, sleek car that sent shivers down anyone's spine as soon as it appeared. He drove with reckless abandon through the city until we pulled up to the office building. The sight of a hearse stopping at the front entrance had the expected reaction. A young security guard, initially stepping forward to investigate, immediately backed off upon realizing what kind of vehicle it was. People scattered like frightened birds, giving the car a wide berth.

We stepped out and headed straight for the office of Daniel, my direct supervisor. Daniel's expression was one of incredulity as he stared at me, his face growing redder by the second.

"Are you out of your mind?" he finally spat out. "We just secured a sponsor, and now you want to blow it all up by investigating them? Have you thought this through, kid? You're about to ruin everything for us."

"It's just a scam—a shady temple conning people out of their money. What's the big deal about exposing the truth?" I replied, meeting his anger with cool determination.

"If you do this, no one will want to sponsor Friday Phantom ever again. You think brands line up to slap their name on a ghost-hunting show? Let me tell you, they don't! We barely scraped this deal together. You're risking everything."

I took a breath. I had expected resistance. "Daniel, this show needs more than just sponsors. It needs integrity. Right now, we're no better than any other low-budget ghost-hunting knockoff. But I believe in this show—Ethan and I are doing this because we care. We want to create something that matters. Money will come, but first, we need a reputation. If we sell out now, we'll never be able to recover our credibility."

Daniel frowned, the tension in the room palpable. For a long moment, he didn't speak. Finally, he sighed and said, "Alright, I'll give you the benefit of the doubt. But you'd better know what you're doing, because if this backfires, you're on your own."

With a nod, I thanked him and quickly secured two state-of-the-art button cameras—tiny, discreet, and perfect for the kind of investigation we had in mind. Ethan and I spent the next few hours learning how to use them, familiarizing ourselves with every detail.

By late afternoon, we were on our way to Seven Treasures Temple, taking a cab this time to avoid drawing attention. As we rode in the backseat, Ethan toyed with the camera in his hands, while I leaned back, mentally preparing for what lay ahead. Sensing my calm, he broke the silence.

"You're not worried we won't get the job?" he asked, half-smirking as if he expected a bluff.

I glanced over, confident. "Oh, we'll get in. Trust me. No matter how weird the interview process is, I've got a few tricks up my sleeve."

Ethan raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical but amused. "I'd like to see that."

We arrived at the temple, which looked eerily similar to how we had left it the previous day. A few familiar faces among the crowd of scam artists outside were huddled in new positions. I brushed them off, stating firmly that we were here to apply as monks, and they dispersed quickly, no longer interested.

To my annoyance, even applicants had to purchase entrance tickets. This temple had truly mastered the art of making money. Begrudgingly, we paid the fee and entered, heading straight for the inner sanctum where job interviews were being conducted. A line of applicants snaked down a dim hallway, men and women of various ages, all looking equally uncertain about their prospects.

Ethan and I waited our turn, watching one dejected applicant after another leave the interview room with slumped shoulders. When our turn finally came, we entered the chamber together. A middle-aged monk in bright robes sat behind a large desk, his fingers fiddling with prayer beads as he observed us with disinterest.

"One at a time," he commanded, his voice stern. "Who told you to come in together?"

Ethan shot me a confused glance, unsure of how to proceed, but I stepped forward quickly, pulling out two boxes of premium cigarettes from my pocket and placing them discreetly on the table.

"Master, we're cousins. He's a bit...new to the city, and I'm afraid he might say something foolish without someone to guide him. I've worked in temples before—I understand how things go. Please, allow us to stay together," I said, lowering my voice respectfully.

The monk glanced at the cigarettes, a small smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. After a pause, he nodded. "Very well. We are looking for many types of workers. Some will be performing rituals, others will interpret signs or offer blessings. Which are you applying for?"

Ethan's face remained impassive, but I could tell he was still unsure of my strategy. He answered quickly, "We want to be monks. We'll work inside the temple."

"Monks?" the monk scoffed. "Do you think becoming a monk is so easy? We require qualifications—education, the ability to drive, and most importantly, you must be able to recite the Diamond Sutra by heart. Can you?"

I didn't miss a beat. "Not just the Diamond Sutra, Master. I can recite the Heart Sutra and the Kṣitigarbha Bodhisattva Sutra as well."

The monk's eyebrows rose slightly. "Prove it."

Without hesitation, I began to recite from the Diamond Sutra, my voice steady and measured. I could feel Ethan's gaze on me as I delivered each verse with precision. The monk nodded slowly, clearly impressed by the flawless recitation.

"Enough," he said, raising a hand to stop me after a few minutes. "You have some skill, but reciting scriptures isn't enough. We'll contact you if there's a place for you here."

I knew that meant rejection, no matter how polite it sounded. As Ethan turned to leave, I grabbed his arm and whispered, "Wait."

Approaching the desk again, I lowered my voice even further, just loud enough for the monk to hear. "Master, we're both willing to work hard and serve you well. In fact, we'd be happy to give you half of our monthly wages as a sign of our loyalty."

Ethan looked at me in shock, clearly baffled by the offer. But the monk's eyes lit up instantly, and he smiled—a smile that didn't reach his eyes.

"You're a wise one," he said, his tone now dripping with approval. "You'll do well here. Come back tomorrow for training."

As we left the temple, Ethan was silent, his mind clearly racing with questions. Finally, he broke the silence. "I can't believe you pulled that off."

I shrugged, a grin tugging at my lips. "Told you I had a few tricks up my sleeve."

Tomorrow, our journey into the heart of Seven Treasures Temple would begin. But as I glanced back at the towering structure behind us, I couldn't shake the feeling that we were stepping into something much darker than we anticipated.