Chapter 4 - The Darkness
The deafening echo of the gunshot faded, replaced only by the howling wind outside.
I held my breath, afraid that even the sound of my own lungs would give away my position.
Downstairs, the chaotic scrambling of feet told me that everyone was panicking in the sudden darkness.
“Where did she go?” Nicole shrieked, her voice frantic and high-pitched.
“Turn on your phone flashlight, you idiot!” Arthur snapped harshly from the floor.
A small, weak beam of light suddenly pierced the darkness, casting long, terrifying shadows across the living room walls.
I crawled carefully along the carpeted landing, moving away from the staircase and toward the guest room.
I knew this cabin better than anyone else in the world, every creaking floorboard and every hidden corner.
My late husband and I had built this place from the ground up thirty years ago.
I slipped inside the guest room and quietly closed the door, leaning against it to catch my breath.
I still had the metal box tucked securely under my arm.
Inside this box was the only tangible proof of their massive, million-dollar forgery.
Without these documents and the fake notary seal, their entire fraudulent empire would crumble to dust.
I heard the heavy, thudding footsteps of Arthur climbing the wooden stairs.
“Come out, old woman,” Arthur called out in a mocking, sing-song voice.
“We just want to talk about the future of the estate.”
I moved quietly toward the heavy oak dresser sitting in the corner of the room.
My husband had always kept his vintage hunting rifle hidden securely behind this very piece of furniture.
It hadn't been fired in years, but I prayed the ammunition box was still sitting right next to it.
I reached my hand blindly behind the dusty dresser, my fingers searching desperately in the dark.
My heart skipped a beat when I felt the cold, hard steel of the gun barrel.
I pulled the heavy rifle out, quickly checking the chamber by feel.
It was empty, but my fingers brushed against the small cardboard box of shells resting on the floorboards.
I fumbled with the cardboard flap, my hands shaking violently as I loaded two heavy rounds into the chamber.
The satisfying metallic click of the bolt sliding into place gave me a sudden surge of fierce courage.
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I was not going to let them take my home, my life, or my family.
I walked quietly toward the closed door, raising the heavy barrel of the rifle and waiting in the shadows.
