Welcome to coniston

After nearly eight hours on the road, they finally reached the outskirts of Coniston. A large sign on the left side of the road, reading Welcome to Coniston Village, reflected the glow of their headlights as they passed.

To either side of the road stretched rolling hills covered in vast expanses of green grass, dotted sparsely with trees. The silhouettes of the landscape absorbed the faint light of the overcast night sky. The digital clock on the dashboard read just past one in the morning. They had promised to meet Fowler's friend the next day, leaving them only a few hours to rest. They needed to find lodging immediately.

Before long, they spotted the first house on the left side of the village road, followed by a few others scattered farther apart.

Entering Coniston felt like stepping back into the Middle Ages. Every house seemed to be built from stacked stone, arranged in square formations with sharply pointed roofs. Few bore any paint; most left the dark gray stone exposed as their primary color, even their roofs matching the same somber shade.

Coniston was a small, historic tourist village nestled beside a vast lake. It was famous for its historic copper mines, its picturesque lake, and its medieval architecture, which had remained virtually unchanged over the centuries. During spring break, the village bustled with tourists, but on ordinary days, it resembled something straight out of a horror film.

After driving a few more minutes, Marlon spotted an old hotel with a wide front yard split by a paved path. If not for the hotel sign by the roadside, anyone passing by would mistake it for a large, eerie stone castle.

Marlon turned the car into the driveway. Thomas was asleep, hugging his backpack like a pillow, a thin line of drool dripping onto the fabric like a leaky faucet.

As Marlon pulled up in front of the lobby entrance, a short, somewhat portly man in a police uniform approached the car with a smile. His face appeared around their age, but a thick blond mustache—matching his hair—gave him an air of forced authority, as if compensating for his stout frame.

He tapped the hood, signaling Marlon to stop.

Marlon braked, leaving the car slightly angled toward the lobby doors—tall, double-leafed gates standing three meters high, wide open and spilling warm yellow light from within.

The man knocked on Marlon's window, gesturing for him to roll it down.

"Good evening. Are you the Holter brothers?" he asked hopefully.

"Yes. Is there a problem, Officer?" Marlon replied, nudging Thomas' shoulder in a futile attempt to wake him.

"Oh no, not at all! Apologies, I haven't introduced myself." The man's voice was eager. "I'm Timmy—Fowler's high school friend, haha!" He puffed his chest slightly, hands resting on his duty belt, trying to appear dignified.

"Oh… You startled me," Marlon answered flatly, his drowsy eyes barely reacting.

"Ahaha, sorry! I'm just relieved. I thought you weren't coming tonight—I've been waiting for hours." Timmy sighed, though his expression was more relieved than annoyed.

"Hold on, I'll get someone to help with your bags." Before Marlon could respond, Timmy hurried into the lobby.

Watching him disappear inside, Marlon restarted the engine and parked properly so as not to block the driveway. He then stepped out and opened Thomas' door—only for his brother to tumble out mid-sleep, still clutching his backpack.

"Ouch… ouch… Where are we?" Thomas groaned, blinking as he took in his surroundings.

"Pleasant trip, Thomas?" Marlon mocked, rolling his eyes.

Nearby, the hotel parking lot stood mostly empty—just two private cars and a police cruiser parked at a distance, likely belonging to the hotel staff and Timmy.

Soon, Timmy reemerged, followed by a teenager in traditional English attire.

"Welcome to the Great Lake, sirs. Let me assist with your luggage," the boy said with forced enthusiasm.

"Yes, please take their things to Room 205," Timmy answered before the brothers could respond.

"Oh, we're in Coniston?" Thomas mumbled, finally gathering his wits.

"Indeed! You must be Thomas?" Timmy asked brightly.

"Uh, sorry, Officer—how'd you know my name?"

"He's Timmy. Fowler's friend," Marlon interjected, pulling bags from the car.

"Oh, right! The rookie cop, yeah?" Thomas grinned, shaking Timmy's hand.

Marlon promptly kicked him in the backside.

"Ow—I mean, congrats on joining the force!" Thomas corrected hastily.

"Ahaha, it's fine! Actually, this is my second month as an officer," Timmy admitted with a smile. "Though, of all the luck—my first big case is something like this. I hope you can help."

"Wait, is something serious happening tonight? Why meet us this late?" Thomas asked.

"Oh no, no! It's just our village's custom to warmly welcome guests from out of town," Timmy replied politely.

"Thanks, Timmy. We appreciate it," Thomas said with a nod.

Behind him, Marlon handed his car keys to the teenager for parking.

"Well, your room should be ready. You should rest—tomorrow looks to be a long day," Timmy said, glancing briefly at the lobby doors.

"Yeah, you too," Marlon replied, stifling a yawn.

Timmy tipped his hat before turning toward his patrol car.

The brothers headed inside, ready to recharge for the next day's investigation into the town's monstrous secrets.

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The alarm on Marlon's wristwatch jolted him awake. Still lying in bed, he lifted his arm and squinted at the digital display: 8:00 AM. Despite the early hour, exhaustion clung to him. He glanced at Thomas' bed—empty, sheets tangled.

Pushing himself up, Marlon shuffled to the window and drew back the curtains.

To his surprise, the castle-like hotel offered a breathtaking morning view. The large window faced the vast lake directly, and a small balcony with two wooden chairs and a round table stood just beyond the glass doors.

Marlon stepped outside, greeted by crisp air and a panorama of gentle hills blanketed in green, dotted with sparse trees.

When was the last time we took a trip somewhere this peaceful?

Since their father's disappearance, life had become a cycle of duty—no room for leisure.

Sinking into a balcony chair, Marlon allowed himself a moment of stillness.

On the lake, colorful gondolas bobbed at their moorings while hotel staff bustled about.

Elsewhere in the village, Thomas—dressed in snug blue jeans and a white T-shirt—strolled along a cobblestone sidewalk. Shops lined the street, open even in the off-season. Despite its quaint, medieval aesthetic, Coniston functioned like a modern town, its streets clean and well-kept.

Unlike city folk, some villagers still wore period attire.

Thomas entered a convenience store with a glass-fronted facade beneath a steeply pitched roof. He browsed the snack aisles until a striking blonde woman in traditional dress caught his eye near the drinks cooler.

She turned, their gazes locking—her bright blue eyes and rosy complexion sending Thomas' pulse racing. She smiled.

He pretended to examine a bag of chips as she approached.

"Nice costume," he remarked, nodding at her attire.

"Thank you, city boy. That's sweet," she replied, playfully lifting the hem of her wide skirt in a mock curtsy.

Thomas leaned against a shelf, oozing charm. "So, what brings you to our tiny village, handsome?" she asked.

"Work… or maybe just the chance to meet a local beauty," he said, holding her gaze.

"Aww, they warned me about smooth-talking city boys," she teased, biting her lip.

"Don't judge us all, miss. My words are only for the right woman."

"You're quite the charmer."

"I swear I'm sincere." Thomas placed a hand over his heart.

"Well then, I'll accept your flattery… Mr.?" She tilted her head expectantly.

"Thomas. Thomas Holter. Pleasure to meet you, miss…" He took her hand, brushing a kiss over her knuckles.

"Bella. Bella Garcia. The honor's mine." A blush crept up her cheeks.

Their banter mirrored a scene from a medieval romance, fitting the setting.

"So, Bella… any chance you're free to help me find the best coffee around?"

"Hmm… I suppose I have a little time." She tapped her chin theatrically.

"Then let's go."

After paying for their items, they left together.

Marlon finally left his room, phone pressed to his ear as he scrolled for Thomas's contact.

The call connected.

"Yaw, Marlon! Thought you'd sleep till sunset again."

"Yeah, yeah. You win," Marlon grumbled. "We're meeting Timmy at ten. Where are you?"

He paced down the hallway, its stone floors softened by a long red carpet.

"Relax, I'm at a café a few blocks from the hotel. Sending you the pin now."

"Fine. Be there soon."

The elevator doors slid open just as Marlon spotted Timmy in the lobby—already in uniform, newspaper in hand.

"Timmy?"

The officer lowered the paper. "Morning, Marlon."

"You're early."

"Wanted to treat you two to breakfast at a famous spot. My treat." Timmy grinned.

"Great. Mind giving me a lift to fetch Thomas first?"

"Where is he?"

Marlon checked his phone. "Couple blocks away."

"Let's go." Timmy jingled his keys.

Marlon eyed the police car keys and grimaced. "We'll take my car. I'd rather not look like a perp in the backseat."

Timmy laughed, scratching his head. "Right. Forgot."

After retrieving Marlon's keys from the front desk, they headed to the parking lot.

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Thirty Minutes Earlier

The café bustled with life, its lively chatter blending with the clinking of cups and saucers. Nestled in the outdoor seating area, Thomas sat across from Bella, engrossed in their conversation. The café had a quaint, old-world charm, with small round tables and chairs scattered across the courtyard. At the center of each table stood a slender pole supporting a vibrant umbrella, casting colorful shade over the patrons beneath.

They were deep in conversation when a waitress approached, balancing a tray with two steaming cups of coffee and a plate of light snacks.

"Thanks for bringing me here. I love this place," Thomas said, his gaze sweeping over the cozy surroundings.

"Not too bad for a small-town spot, right?" Bella teased, blowing gently on her hot latte before taking a sip.

"Are you kidding? It's perfect. A beautiful place with a beautiful woman—what more could a city guy ask for?" Thomas leaned in slightly, a playful smirk on his lips.

"Well, then you owe me. Next time, you're taking me to your favorite place in London, deal?" Bella raised her pinky, holding it just inches from Thomas's face.

"Alright, it's a promise," Thomas chuckled, linking his pinky with hers.

"But seriously," Bella rested her chin on her palm, her curiosity piqued, "what brings you to this little town outside of holiday season, Thomas?"

"Hmm… It's a bit hard to explain, Bella. Might ruin the mood." He hesitated, trying to deflect.

"Come on, Thomas. You can't just leave a girl hanging after showing her around!" Bella pressed, her eyes narrowing in playful suspicion.

"Sigh… alright, alright. I was just enjoying our lighthearted chat, that's all." He exhaled dramatically.

"Thomas, you're making me even more curious now!"

"Fine. Truth is… I'm a detective from London. I'm here to help solve the disappearances in this village." He lied smoothly, unsure if she'd believe the real nature of his work.

"Oh… oh! That's right. People have been vanishing for months now. Most of the victims are men—you should be careful too, Thomas." Worry flickered across Bella's face.

"Don't worry, Bella. It's not easy to take down a trained detective like me." He grinned, puffing out his chest in mock bravado.

"Speaking of which… have there been any other rumors about the disappearances?" Thomas probed.

"Actually… there's something that's been bothering me. But I'm not sure you'd believe me if I told you." Bella hesitated, her fingers tightening around her cup.

"It's okay. A good detective keeps an open mind—even about supernatural stuff." Thomas nudged gently, encouraging her.

"Wait… you'd believe that? Even supernatural things?" Bella's eyes widened.

"Yeah, especially those." His tone turned serious, adding weight to his words.

"Alright… just thinking about it gives me chills." Bella wrapped her arms around herself, her gaze dropping to the table.

Thomas reached out, rubbing her arm reassuringly. Unlike Marlon, he had a way with women—gentle, confident.

"It happened a few nights ago. My friends and I were out late. I remember it was almost midnight when we decided to head home. I was walking back with one guy and one girl."

"The girl lived closest, so we dropped her off first since it was on the way. Then it was just me and my guy friend. We split at a fork in the road—he went right, I went left."

"But just a few steps after we parted, I turned back… and he was gone."

"I froze, confused. Then I heard a noise from an alley between two buildings near where he'd gone."

"Curious, I crept closer to peek inside… and that's when I saw it." Bella's voice trembled. Her eyes glazed over, staring blankly at the table as if reliving the horror. She shivered, shrinking into herself.

She fell silent, her fear palpable.

"It's okay, Bella. I believe you. Keep going." Thomas reassured her softly.

Bella met his eyes briefly before looking down again, forcing herself to continue.

"My friend… he was talking to himself, following something. I don't even know what it was."

"At first glance, it looked like a naked person—skin deathly pale, as if no blood ran through its veins. Its hair was long, patchy, almost falling out."

"I was terrified. But I couldn't just leave him. So I followed, hiding in the shadows."

"He walked all the way out of the village, toward the hills. There was nowhere left to hide, so I finally gathered the courage to scream his name."

"But he didn't react. It was like he was hypnotized."

"Then… the creature turned toward me." Her breath hitched. "Its eyes… like bottomless black pits. I've never felt such dread. I ran."

Tears welled in her eyes again.

Thomas pulled her into an embrace, letting her rest her head on his shoulder.

"That's enough, Bella. You don't have to say more." He stroked her arm gently.

"But I shouldn't have left him, Thomas!" Her voice cracked with guilt.

"You did the right thing. If you'd kept following, something worse might've happened to you too."

"Just one more thing… can you show me where it took him?" Thomas asked, his tone grave.

"I… I think so." Bella wiped her tears.

"Good. I might go there today."

"Actually… there's more." Bella lifted her head, her eyes pleading. "I need your help."

"Whatever it is, I'll help. Tell me."

"Thank you, Thomas." She exhaled in relief.

"The night after that… after it saw my face… it started appearing outside my house. Every night, it stands in my yard, staring straight at my window."

"Tonight… will be the third time. I'm so scared, Thomas." Fresh tears spilled over.

"It's okay. You did the right thing telling me." His voice was steady, reassuring.

"Tonight, my partner and I will watch your house. We'll ambush it when it comes."

"So don't worry, Bella." His large hand squeezed her arm, grounding her.

"You'll really do that?" She searched his eyes for confirmation.

"Of course. It's my job."

"Thank you… I'll give you my address."

"I'll be there tonight."

A brief silence settled between them—until Thomas's phone buzzed. Marlon was calling.