Chapter 2: The Unwelcome Mat

Chapter 2: The Unwelcome Mat

The promise of a ‘special unit’ arrived not with sirens, but with the silent, predatory hum of specialized vehicles. Two sleek, black vans, devoid of any markings, sliced through the rain and parked with unnerving precision. They looked less like government vehicles and more like something designed to transport captured gods. The local police, who had been treating the situation with a mix of confusion and overtime-fueled boredom, straightened up, their authority evaporating in the oppressive quiet.

Doors slid open, and the Aegis Concordate deployed. They moved with the disciplined economy of a military unit, clad in dark, armored tactical gear that shimmered with faint, inscribed warding runes. They weren't here to investigate; they were here to conquer.

My desire to get inside and answer that spectral plea for help slammed headfirst into a wall of absolute authority. The obstacle had a name, and he was the last to step out of the lead van.

Kaelen Vance.

Even from fifty feet away, he was an exercise in calculated intimidation. He was tall, with an athlete’s build packed into a tailored grey suit that probably cost more than my entire office. His silver-blond hair was perfect despite the downpour, each strand seemingly waterproofed by sheer force of will. As he surveyed the scene, his piercing blue eyes swept over the police, the gawking neighbors, and the impossible house with the same cold, appraising disinterest. Then, they landed on me. For a fleeting second, they narrowed, detecting the faint aura of my own abilities, and his expression curdled into one of utter disdain.

He didn't walk, he strode, a subordinate scrambling to keep an umbrella over his head. He flicked a dismissive hand at the police chief. "Sergeant, my team has jurisdiction. Secure a two-block perimeter. No one in or out. And get these civilians out of here."

The chief, a man twice Kaelen’s age, just nodded meekly. The Concordate’s authority was absolute in matters like these. They were the magical world's sledgehammer, and everyone else was just a nail.

I knew this was my only chance. I pushed past the useless tape and met Kaelen as he approached the crushed remains of the rose garden. "Agent Vance," I said, my voice steadier than I felt.

He stopped, his gaze raking over my practical trench coat and worn boots. It was the look a king might give a particularly audacious peasant. "And you are?"

"Aggie McPherson. The homeowner called me."

"A consultant," he said, the word dripping with condescension. "How quaint. Your services are no longer required, Miss McPherson. The Aegis Concordate is handling this anomaly."

"It's not just an anomaly," I pressed, the image of the tormented face burning in my mind. "It’s a parasitic construct, latched onto the city’s primary ley line. And there's someone trapped inside. A spirit."

A flicker of something—not surprise, but annoyance—crossed his features. "Your amateur assessment is noted. And irrelevant." He turned to one of his agents. "Begin deployment of the Arcane Dampening Field. I want this thing isolated. Full energy readings, then prepare for a kinetic breach on my mark."

Kinetic breach. That was their solution for everything. Punch a hole in it with raw power until it stopped moving. If there was a spirit trapped in there, a "kinetic breach" would likely shred it into ethereal confetti.

"You can't just blast your way in!" I snapped, taking a step forward. "You'll destroy whatever's holding it together. You might even destroy the prisoner!"

Kaelen turned back to me, his aura flaring with a pulse of cold, potent energy that made the hairs on my arms stand up. It was a warning, a magical show of force meant to put me in my place. "The Concordate does not negotiate with anomalies. We contain them. We neutralize them. And we do not abide civilian interference." He gave me a final, dismissive look. "Leave. Now. Or you will be detained for obstructing a Class-Four containment operation."

He turned his back on me, the matter settled in his mind. The action had failed. The result was clear: I was out, and his brute-force method was in. My fists clenched in my pockets. He was so sure of himself, so blinded by the protocols and power of his organization that he couldn't see the nuance. He saw a problem to be erased, while I saw a person to be saved.

His team moved with chilling efficiency, planting pylons that hummed to life, projecting a shimmering wall of golden energy around the house. They were boxing it in, cutting it off. Time was running out.

This was the turning point. I couldn't go through Kaelen. So, I would have to go around him.

I backed away, melting into the chaos as the police began pushing the neighbors back. Out of Kaelen's immediate sightline, I ducked behind a large oak tree on the edge of the Gable's property. My heart hammered against my ribs. What I was about to do was incredibly risky. If the Concordate caught me, I wouldn't just be detained; I'd be stripped of my license and magically neutered. If the house caught me, I might be devoured.

But the memory of that silent, desperate plea—Help—eclipsed the fear.

I took a deep breath and activated my Spectral Sight again. The world dissolved into its glowing, energetic underpinnings. Kaelen’s containment field was a solid, impenetrable cage of gold. His mages were preparing to focus a beam of pure force on the front door, a magical battering ram. It was all power, no finesse.

I ignored them. I focused on the house itself, on the chaotic, thorny lattice of its own purple-black energy field. I remembered what Silas Naugle's diary might say, that this house was a sanctuary turned prison. A lock. And you don’t open a lock with a sledgehammer. You use a key. Or, failing that, you pick it.

I scanned the house's aura, searching for a flaw, a vulnerability. The Concordate’s sensors would be looking for power fluctuations, structural weaknesses. They weren't looking for the quiet spots. My gaze drifted down to the foundation, to the place where the house had crushed Mrs. Gable's prize-winning roses. There. A subtle distortion. A seam. It was a spot where the house's parasitic nature had been forced to accommodate the sudden, violent intrusion into the physical world. The energy field was thinner there, woven with a different, slightly discordant frequency. It wasn't a door, but it was a loose thread in the tapestry.

I dropped to one knee, shielded from view by a thick hedge. My hands were shaking, but my purpose was firm. I opened my leather satchel and pulled out my tools: a stick of silver-infused chalk and a small, tarnished brass locket containing a sliver of a captured echo. A Resonance Ritual. It was delicate, dangerous work. I wasn't trying to break the lock; I was trying to convince the lock I was the key.

I quickly scribed a complex rune on the damp earth. A circle of mimicry, designed to attune my own energy signature to a target frequency. I placed the locket in the center and pressed my palms to the ground on either side of it. Closing my eyes, I focused on the discordant frequency of the seam, humming low in my throat, matching its strange, sorrowful pitch. It was like trying to tune a guitar in the middle of a hurricane. Outside the bubble of my concentration, I could hear Kaelen shouting commands. The air crackled as his team prepared their assault.

A wave of nausea washed over me as my energy began to sync with the house. It felt… wrong. Ancient and deeply wounded. For a terrifying moment, I felt its hunger, a bottomless craving that threatened to pull me in and swallow me whole. I gritted my teeth, pouring more of my will into the rune, forcing the mimicry. I am not food. I am part of you. Let me in.

"All units! On my mark!" Kaelen's voice boomed, amplified by magic. "Breach! Breach! Breach!"

A blinding flash of white light erupted from the front of the house, followed a split second later by a deafening BOOM that shook the very ground I knelt on.

The surprise was twofold. As Kaelen's overwhelming power struck the house, the entire structure groaned in protest. Its defensive field flared, and in that moment of distraction, my ritual found purchase. The seam in front of me shimmered. The air tore open, not with a bang, but with a silent, graceful parting, revealing an inky darkness that smelled of dust, old paper, and forgotten time.

It was my only chance.

Without a second thought, I scrambled forward and dove through the opening. The world twisted, and for a heart-stopping second, I felt like I was falling through static. Then my boots hit solid ground.

I was inside. The portal snapped shut behind me with a sound like a sigh. The thunderous noise of the Concordate's assault was instantly muffled, reduced to a distant, impotent thudding. I was standing in a grand entryway, the air thick with an unnatural stillness. There was no door where I had entered. There was no front door where Kaelen was attacking. There was only a long, shadowed hallway, and the faint, lilting sound of a waltz being played on a distant gramophone.