crucifyheaven

Detective Ian Wren thought he had escaped the ghosts of his past, but the murder of Eleanor Montgomery pulls him into a web of deceit that threatens to unravel Hollow’s Edge. Eleanor was more than a philanthropist—she was the keystone of the town’s power dynamics. Her death exposes dark secrets tied to the elusive Crimson Hour Society, a shadowy group with ties to corruption and betrayal.

As Ian investigates, he uncovers layers of lies, each piece revealing deeper connections between Hollow’s Edge’s elite and Eleanor’s tragic demise. But the closer Ian gets to the truth, the more dangerous the game becomes. With each passing hour, Ian faces threats, red herrings, and the ghosts of his unsolved case—forcing him to confront his own failure and unravel the darkness hiding in plain sight.

In a town where trust is fleeting and redemption comes at a price, Ian must uncover the truth before the Crimson Hour strikes again.

The Crimson Hour

Chapter 6: The Hidden Cellar

The trapdoor creaked open to reveal a narrow, stone staircase that spiraled downward into darkness. Ian flicked on his flashlight, the narrow beam illuminating the dust-coated steps and damp walls lined with moss. The air was heavy with the scent of earth and mildew, and a faint chill crept up Ian's spine as he descended.

Sheriff Evelyn Cross followed close behind, her hand resting on the grip of her sidearm. "This feels more like a dungeon than a cellar," she muttered, her voice echoing faintly in the confined space.

"Eleanor didn't strike me as the type to maintain a wine collection," Ian replied dryly, his sharp eyes scanning the walls for signs of anything unusual.

At the bottom of the stairs, they stepped into a small, dimly lit chamber. The room was cramped, with walls of roughly hewn stone and a low ceiling that forced Ian to duck slightly. A single bulb hung from the ceiling, its weak light casting long shadows.

In the center of the room was an old wooden table, its surface cluttered with papers, photographs, and a locked metal box. Ian's flashlight swept across the walls, revealing shelves stocked with faded books and files that seemed untouched for years.

"This isn't just a cellar," Evelyn said, her gaze narrowing. "It's a safe room. Eleanor was hiding something."

Ian nodded, stepping toward the table. The photographs caught his attention first—grainy images of people gathered in dimly lit rooms, their faces obscured by masks. One photograph was labeled in Eleanor's handwriting: Crimson Hour - Initiation, 1996.

"This is it," Ian murmured, his breath fogging slightly in the chilly air. "This is what she was afraid of."

He picked up a paper from the table, its edges yellowed with age. The document detailed meeting minutes, names, and agendas tied to the Crimson Hour Society. Many of the names matched those in the ledger Ian had found earlier, but some were new, including:

Mayor Henry Blackwell

Judge Katherine Harlow

Eleanor Montgomery

Evelyn leaned over his shoulder, her expression grim. "This society isn't just a rumor. It's real, and Eleanor was in deep."

Ian's attention shifted to the metal box. It was small but sturdy, its surface etched with scratches and faint symbols that he couldn't immediately decipher. He tried the latch, but it was locked tight.

"Could be the key to everything," Ian said, setting the box back down. "We'll need tools to open it. For now, let's catalog what we can."

As they worked, Evelyn's radio crackled to life. A deputy's voice broke through, tense and hurried. "Sheriff, we've got a situation near the west wing of the Montgomery estate. You might want to get over here."

Ian and Evelyn exchanged a glance. "The west wing," Ian muttered, recalling the second red mark on Eleanor's map.

"Looks like the pieces are falling into place," Evelyn said, already heading back up the stairs.

Ian lingered for a moment, his eyes scanning the room one last time. The cellar felt like a graveyard of secrets, each clue buried under years of deception. Whatever Eleanor had been protecting, it was clear that someone had killed to keep it hidden. And Ian was certain the trail was about to get even darker.