Amelia seemed to consider his words for a moment. The gravity of the situation was clear, and there was no room for ego or pride. "Yes," she conceded, "we need all hands on deck. And if that means shaking up the island's routine, so be it. We can't risk another murder."

  Finn glanced around, taking in the apprehensive faces of the islanders above. He could feel their collective grief, fear, and the burgeoning seed of anger. They were all waiting for answers, for justice, for safety. And it was up to him and Amelia to deliver on that. They wanted their island back, but Finn wondered if a place could ever truly go back to how it was once it had been stained with blood.

  He placed a reassuring hand on Amelia's shoulder. "We'll catch this scumbag," he said, trying to convince himself just as much as he was her. "One foot in front of the other, and he'll be in cuffs in no time".

  Finn felt a buzz in his pocket. It was his phone. Pulling it out, he saw Rob's name flash across the screen.

  "Rob," Finn greeted, trying to keep the unease from his voice.

  "Finn," Rob replied, his tone indicating business. "How's it progressing over there? I was worried that there hadn't been an update."

  "We've found another one, Rob. Third body." The grim nature of the news seemed to pull Finn into a daze.

  A palpable pause lingered between them before Rob replied, his voice filled with disbelief. "What? Three? Finn, do you think this one is getting away from us?"

  "It already is," Finn said, glancing down at the lifeless form on the rocky shoreline. "Every lead, every piece of evidence... it all just circles back. The island's legends, the lore, the fear among the locals—it's all entangled. And the murderer... They're staying ahead of us. You need to be here to know what this place is like, Rob... I know it sounds weird, but it gets to you."

  Rob let out a frustrated sigh. "Damn it. We need to get a handle on this."

  "We do. We 're going to need to do it the old-fashioned way," Finn said, gritting his teeth. "Rob, I need more officers here. This island, these people... they need protection. We're out of our depth. There's only two of us right now, we don't even have any officers here from Storn yet. Hopefully we can get a few today to at least do forensics."

  "More officers?" Rob echoed. "Finn..."

  "I know, Rob. I know it's a lot to ask. But someone else will die if we don’t act quickly."

  There was a brief pause on the other end of the line. Finn could imagine Rob rubbing his temples, weighing the logistics and the demands on his force.

  But then Rob's voice came back, a tinge of distress coloring his words. "Finn, it's not pulling the strings to get the resources to you that's the issue. There's something you should know."

  "What is it?"

  There was a heavy sigh from Rob. "I was actually calling to check in on you and Amelia to make sure you were okay. I just received a warning about an approaching storm a few minutes ago. The initial forecasts that it would dissipate were wrong. All of the bad weather the island has seen this past week was just the appetizer. The full storm is about to hit, and it'll be one of the worst the island has seen in living memory. Finn, it's already too late."

  Finn's heart sank. "What? When?"

  "Within the next couple of hours. The meteorologists say it’s an exceptionally rare one—fast and furious, it built up quickly and is suddenly moving in your direction because of the change in wind. You're about to get hit hard. And by the time Storn gets some officers on a boat, it will be too treacherous to cross the waters to get to you and Amelia."

  Finn looked out at the horizon. The sky was already darkening, the once placid waters growing restless. "That explains the winds. But Rob, I need those officers."

  Rob's voice grew somber. "Finn, you have to believe me. No one can get onto or off the island for the next few days. The storm is making it impossible. All ferries, boats, helicopters – everything's been grounded. I'm sorry."

  Finn swallowed hard, trying to process the situation. Isolated on an island with a terrified community, creepy superstitions, and a serial murderer. He suddenly knew what a caged animal felt like.

  "I'll send officers over as soon as the storm passes," Rob assured. "Just... hang tight. And be careful, both of you."

  "Thanks, Rob," Finn replied, trying to keep his voice steady. "We will."

  Ending the call, Finn stared at the phone for a moment, the dire nature of their situation sinking in.

  Amelia, who had been standing a few steps away, examining the body, now approached. "What's wrong?" she asked, her voice laced with concern.

  Finn turned and looked his partner straight in the eyes. “Amelia... We're on our own.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR

  Amidst the gales that began to churn the foliage outside, the front doors of Huldra House groaned open, admitting Finn and Amelia. The aging grandeur of the place, with its high ceilings and dark wooden paneling, offered them a brief respite from the impending storm. However, the cold silence of the interior did little to warm Finn's spirits.

  He was starting to think the island was going to take them all down to some unseen, rotten abyss.

  "Lady Ferguson?" Finn's voice echoed through the vast entrance hall. There was no reply, only the howls of wind outside and the internal whisper of air sweeping under the door.

  Amelia looked around, her brow furrowing. "It's so quiet in here compared to outside. Do you think she left for the mainland with Nathaniel because of the storm?"

  Finn glanced out of the window. "I doubt it. The ferries would have stopped running hours ago, and besides, Lady Ferguson doesn’t strike me as the type to flee from Huldra House. Frederick wanted her to get Nathaniel to the mainland, but she had already refused. Where the hell is the rest of the staff, though, it isn't the evening yet?"

  Amelia nodded, absorbing this. "Remember, the staff here don’t all live on the island. Some come from the mainland."

  "You're right," Finn agreed remembering. "With the storm warnings, those who could leave probably made their way back home. Still, there should be some islander staff around."

  "But they might be staying in town," Amelia reasoned. "The cove offers some protection. It's more logical to gather there with other locals than stay in this massive house all alone."

  “I don't know, I think this house seems like the safest place on the island, from storms at least. It's made from thick stone.”

  “Do you think she already heard about Frederick's murder?” Amelia asked. “Maybe she went to the cliffs to see for herself.”

  “She wouldn't leave her son.”

  Finn contemplated his own words, then resumed his calling, "Lady Ferguson!" His voice echoed through the empty corridors and grand rooms, returning to him with no answer.

  The absence of the lady of Huldra House felt out of place. The vast manor, which normally resonated with hushed conversations, footsteps, and the distant movement of staff during the day, now felt like a tomb. Every shout for Lady Ferguson seemed to get swallowed by the house itself.

  "I don't like this," Finn murmured, his unease palpable. “I'd say split up if it wasn't for the warning in the back of my mind.”

  Amelia looked around, taking in the grandeur and vastness of Huldra House. "We can't waste time searching every corner," she said decisively. "We should go straight to the only other person here."

  Finn quirked an eyebrow. "Who?"

  "Nathaniel," Amelia replied. "Lady Ferguson's son. He's tied to this place more than anyone else. She might even be up there with him."

  Finn looked skeptical but nodded. "Alright, let's head up, but Winters, keep your eyes and ears sharp."

  As they approached the grand staircase leading to the upper levels, Finn halted suddenly hearing something, lifting a hand to signal Amelia to be quiet. "Did you hear that?" he whispered.

  Amelia strained her ears, trying to catch any irregularity over the growing cacophony of the storm outside. "I don't hear anything. Probably just the wind."

  Finn wasn't so sure. He took a few steps onto the staircase, trying to pinpoint the origin of the sound. The wind was indeed howling, gusts making the old windows of the manor shudder. But beneath that was something else—a faint, distant thud.

  "There it is again," he said, pausing to listen.

  Amelia seemed unconvinced, but her alert gaze never wavered from the shadows above them. "Look, Finn, this house is ancient. It's bound to have its noises, especially during a storm. We should keep moving."

  But Finn was starting to feel like they were walking into a trap. As they ascended the staircase, the thudding became more pronounced, though still distant. "That's not just the house settling, Winters. There's something else."

  Amelia paused, tuning in. After a moment, her eyes widened in realization. "Okay, you might be right. That doesn't sound like any wind I've heard."

  The two exchanged a worried glance. The violence of the storm seemed to be deepening by the second, and the urgency to find Lady Ferguson became even more pressing. Finn both wanted to find the source of the strange sound and wanted to avoid it like all hell.

  The howl of the storm was a constant backdrop to the fears inside of him, but that dull, rhythmic thud—almost like a heartbeat—became the focus of their attention. Finn's senses were on high alert, and his earlier unease had transformed into a tangible dread. He had a horrible feeling that the noise wasn't just inside the house—it was tied to its very core.

  “The Hidden Folk,” Finn wondered out loud to himself, thinking about the hidden entrance to their world supposedly concealed beneath Huldra House. He quickly chastised himself for letting superstition into his thinking.

  As Finn and Amelia reached the top of the grand staircase, the labyrinthine corridors of Huldra House stretched before them. The dim light filtering through the cloudy windows added an eerie glow to the faded wallpaper and aging portraits that adorned the walls. Eyes followed them like a vengeful audience about to watch an execution.

  The thud sounded again, echoing slightly, its origin tantalizingly unclear. Finn instinctively reached for his side, a habitual gesture from his days with the FBI. Realizing he was unarmed, he muttered, "You have no idea how much I wish I had my gun."

  Amelia, her face pale and her eyes darting from shadow to shadow, replied dryly, "You have no idea how much I wish you had your gun."

  As they proceeded down the hallway, the thudding became both louder and more intermittent. The unpredictability of it set Finn's nerves on edge. With every step they took, the dread mounted, and the air grew colder.

  Now, another noise joined the eerie chorus—the unmistakable sound of wood creaking. Amelia shot Finn a nervous glance, the tension between them the equal of any storm. Both of them moved silently, their footsteps muffled by the thick carpeting. Each corner they turned held the potential for danger, and they approached every twist and bend with caution.

  “I think it's coming from the attic,” Amelia whispered as they neared.

  “You're right,” Finn said in a low voice. “I bet it's Nathaniel trying to escape from his room.”

  When they reached the hallway that lead to the enclosed attic staircase, they both paused, gazing at it. The thudding and creaking seemed to converge from above, beckoning them into the very heart of the house's mystery.

  “Nathaniel?” Amelia said loudly, staring at the staircase doorway.

  Thud.

  Thud.

  And a creaking noise like a withered tree,

  Taking a deep breath and steeling himself, Finn stepped towards the doorway that led to the rickety steps, with Amelia close behind. With each step, the noises grew louder and more distinct. When they reach the attic stairs, it was cast in darkness.

  Thud.

  Thud.

  Finn looked up and could see something, a shape before them on the staircase. For a moment, he thought he was staring at the outline of the wraith itself. Instinctively, he flicked the light switch to his left.

  Amelia gasped, and Finn felt sick to his stomach.

  Lady Ferguson's lifeless body swung gently from a thick rope looped around a set of sturdy hooks in the ceiling. The drafts from the winds outside, fingered their way through the house, causing her to sway, producing the repetitive thud against the wooden floorboards. Her face was pale, eyes wide in an eternal gaze of horror.

  The rope around her neck creaked.

  Both Finn and Amelia rushed forward.

  “We can save her!” Amelia yelled out.

  Her legs, Amelia said, rushing past him to clearly take the weight off of her neck, pushing her upwards. But Finn stopped her.

  "Amelia," he said in a gentle voice. "Her neck is broken. I can see it from here."

  “No...” Amelia looked defeated. “Why? Why Lady Ferguson?”

  "Four dead," Finn said. "A Lord who had previously lived on the island for years. A fisherman, Ivar Ward, who had an altercation with that very man weeks before. Then Frederick, the butler of Huldra House, and now Lady Ferguson. Three of them connected directly with Huldra House, one a wild card we don't understand yet."

  Finn thrust the side of his clenched fist against the staircase wall in frustration. He looked up at the dead body of Lady Ferguson. He'd had enough death on that island.

  There has to be some damned hope on this island, somewhere, he thought to himself.

  Amelia looked past the body. “Do you think Nathaniel is still up there?”

  Finn gazed at the locked attic door. “We need to get him out of here.”

  Amelia walked up the stairs and knocked gently on the door. “Nathaniel. It's Inspector Winters. Are you there?”

  “Please, the storm... I can't take this,” his tired voice replied from behind the door.

  “We're going to come in... Somehow,” Amelia said.

  “I don't think he knows about his mother,” Finn whispered.

  Amelia nodded and whispered back. “The storm is so loud outside, it might have covered the noise... We've got to get into Nathaniel's room somehow.”

  “I'm not climbing up to that window again,” Finn said, looking around for anything that might help him break down the door. That was when he noticed something strange about the body.

  CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE

  Finn stared at it for a moment, realizing that something was out of place. Clutched tightly in Lady Ferguson's hand was an object. As respectfully as he could, he reached up and pulled a key from her deathly grip. It was ornate, the kind of key meant for a lock of significance.

  He turned to Amelia, speaking barely above a whisper, "I'll bet anything that Lady Ferguson was on her way up here to save Nathaniel when she was intercepted by the killer. This must be the attic key."

  "But why hang her?" Amelia's voice trembled with emotion. "Why this display?"

  Finn eyed the ceiling, noting the fresh imprints around the newly installed hooks. "These hooks weren't here before. This... display, it was premeditated. The killer wanted Nathaniel to witness his own mother's fate. A cruel and unusual punishment. But I reckon we disturbed the killer, he heard us coming and had to run off before having the chance to find the key to Nathaniel's room and forcing him to see this. Whoever did this hates the Ferguson family. He wants them to suffer."

  As realization dawned, Finn gently closed Lady Ferguson's hand. With a voice filled with sorrow and regret that he couldn't save her, he whispered, "We'll make sure your son is safe, Lady Ferguson. I promise."

  Finn walked past Amelia, and she gently patted his arm for a moment. Her eyes were filled with admiration for her partner. Finn then approached the door, the weight of the key in his hand feeling heavier than he had anticipated. He leaned in, speaking softly, "Nathaniel? It's Finn. May we come in?"

  There was a pause, the seconds feeling like hours, before a timid voice from within responded, "Yes."

  Using the key, Finn slowly unlocked the door, its heavy wood creaking as it opened. Amelia followed closely behind him, her concern evident in every movement. The room was dim, with only a faint glow from a single lamp on a nightstand casting long shadows. Outside the solitary window was Huldra Island beneath the skies, darkened drastically by a thick swirling maelstrom of clouds. In the center of the room, a large bed dominated the space, antique furniture sporadically taking up the rest of the attic space. Under the thick blankets, Nathaniel was hidden, a pale face and unruly dark hair peeking out, eyes wide and searching.

  He looked at them, a confused mix of hope and desperation in his eyes. "Where's my mother?" he whispered, his voice quivering. "I've been calling for her. Why hasn't she come?"

  The weight of that question pulled at Finn's soul. Finn and Amelia exchanged glances, and Finn was certain that Amelia also understood the dilemma they now faced. Nathaniel, with his delicate mental state, was now at the mercy of a truth too horrifying for most healthy adults, let alone someone of his fragility.

  Finn cleared his throat, choosing his words carefully, "Nathaniel, we need to get you out of here. It's not safe. Can you come with us?" Finn was racking his brain for a way to get the man downstairs without seeing his dead mother as he waited for an answer.

  Nathaniel hesitated, pulling the blankets closer around him as though they could shield him from the reality outside his door. "I will, but only if my mother says it's okay," he insisted, his voice filled with a child-like hope that his the one person who had always cared for him would soon enter and take everything back to normal. At the very least, be there to take control of the situation.

  Finn felt a pang of sorrow. How does one navigate such a heart-wrenching situation? It was a challenge, even for an experienced agent like him. But right now, he had to make decisions, not just as a detective, but as a protector of an innocent life.

  Amelia took a deep breath, looking at Nathaniel with a gentle expression. "The storm outside is getting bad, Nathaniel. It's going to be the worst one on the island in living memory. We need to make sure you're safe," she said, her voice soothing.

 

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