Kane stirred awake, the sun streaming through the cracked window, bathing the decayed room in golden light. He groaned softly, rubbing his eyes and stretching before pulling himself up and off the floor. The faint, savory smell of meat drifted through the air—this time, mercifully unburned.

  As he shuffled out of the room, he took his time observing the state of the house, finally appreciating just how far it had fallen into disrepair. Graffiti marred the walls—some crude, others surprisingly artistic, though still intrusive. Most of the furniture had rotted beyond use, the wood warped and brittle. Even the walls and floors groaned ominously under his weight, leaving him marveling at how his grandfather had managed to let the place fall apart.

  Stepping out onto the deck, his gaze landed on Amber’s “butcher station.” The corner of the deck looked like a serial killer’s dream—a bloodstained chopping block, crude tools strewn about, and a few charred remains of failed attempts at cooking. Kane let out a sigh and turned his attention to the campfire ahead, where Amber crouched, watching over a slab of meat sizzling above the flames.

  He pulled up a creaky chair beside her, resting his elbows on his knees. “Alright, let’s piece together what we know.”

  Amber rolled her eyes but smirked. “Sure, Professor. Knock yourself out. Doesn’t seem too complicated to me.”

  Kane pulled a small notebook from his bag and flipped it open, jotting as he spoke. “So. My grandfather owned two massive houses—this one and the main house. From what I can tell, he used this one for storage mostly, though he seemed to abandon it once… that thing got sealed in the basement.”

  Amber flipped the meat nonchalantly. “Makes sense. Still doesn’t explain how it’s still alive down there. I mean, it’s been years, right? Gotta be those weird machines.”

  Kane looked up sharply. “Machines? What machines?”

  She stood, stretching her arms. “I sketched it out earlier. Come on, I’ll show you.”

  He followed her back inside, where she led him to a makeshift workspace. Different sketches for art pieces lines the walls. Tacked to the center of the wall was a hastily -but shockingly detailed- drawn sketch of the creature. Pale, grotesquely bulging muscles stretched its frame to the brink of human recognition. Its veins glowed crimson, branching out from a mechanical contraption on its back—tubes and wires pumping the eerie red substance through its body.

  Amber gestured to the drawing, clearly proud of her work. “Didn’t get the clearest look, but that’s the gist. A bunch of tubes with that red… stuff running through them. Creepy as hell, but it made for good inspiration. I might do a full piece on it”

  Kane smiles gently, “We should probably talk about the ‘pieces’ you’ve put around the house. Plus the damage, but… something feels familiar about this.”

  She tilts her head, giving him a weird look, “Honestly, I don’t know how this could EVER look like anything you’ve ever seen before. It almost looks like a fantasy.”

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  Kane studied the sketch in silence, his thoughts racing. His grandfather’s old stories floated to the surface—tales of an unstoppable creature trapped in a labyrinth. “It’s like a Minotaur,” he murmured. “But… twisted. A grotesque version of it. My grandfather used to tell stories about something like this—just legends, or so I thought.”

  Amber raised an eyebrow. “Yeah? Did his bedtime stories include glowing veins, weird machines, and trapping it in the basement?”

  Kane sighed. “No. But he always said the Minotaur’s weakness was a labyrinth—not a physical vulnerability, but a psychological one. Every story has it trapped in a maze, no matter how strong or smart it is. It can never escape, no matter what.”

  Amber groaned in frustration. “So what? We just leave it down there? No weaknesses? No silver bullet? No stake through the heart?”

  “It’s not that simple,” Kane replied. “We keep it in the maze. The basement isn’t just a storage area—it’s designed to shift and confuse. That’s why my grandfather built it that way, to keep the creature lost forever.” He paused, frowning. “Seems like the door will hold it for a good while. Whatever he did, he must’ve planed ahead.”

  Amber leaned against the wall, deep in thought. “Maybe it’s… I don’t know. Kane, this thing looks human—or it used to be. Minotaurs are supposed to have horns and hooves, right? This… this thing’s man-made. You don’t think your grandpa… had a hand in making it, do you?”

  Kane hesitated, a wave of unease washing over him. “I don’t want to believe that, but… it’s possible. Whoever—or whatever—made it, it’s definitely not natural. But for now, we have one job: keep it locked in the basement. If the house collapses, we’re in big trouble.”

  Amber crossed her arms, visibly annoyed. “Great. So now I’m stuck helping you keep this place from falling apart? Forever?”

  He shook his head. “Not forever. The main house is in better shape, it might have something we can use. I don’t trust it much, though. If there’s one of these things here, there could be more in there. Before we move on, we need to get some help.”

  She raised an eyebrow. “What happened to ‘no police’?”

  “I have a friend up north,” Kane said. “Grandpa said that too many people would break the magic, but I don’t think a handful people is enough to ruin it. I remember me and my family, along with others being here. Even if it does break, it’ll come back afterward… unless this all happened after I left, but I strongly doubt it.”

  She sighs, standing up again, “So you’re just gonna start inviting random people, to see where the limit is? That seems a little dumb, even for me.”

  He laughs a little, “No, that would be a little silly. He’s into haunted places, urban myths, that sort of thing. Runs a vlog. He’ll know what to do. I’ll call him, but it’ll take him at least a week to get here.”

  Amber rolled her eyes. “Another city boy? Great. Why not ask someone local? There’s this woman in town—Melissa Reed. She’s ex-military and handy as hell. Plus, she teaches some of the kids around here in her free time. Even tried to teach me once.”

  Kane froze. “Melissa? She still lives here?”

  “Yeah, why?”

  “She’s… we grew up together. Kind of. She was a few years older than me. I didn’t think she’d come back. She left when I was barely old enough to remember her.”

  Amber smirked. “Small world, huh? Anyway, she’s tough, and I think she’d be up for it.”

  Kane nodded. “Alright. We’ll head into town, grab supplies, and see if she’s interested. I’ll message my friend once I get some form of signal.”

  Amber opened her mouth to respond, then froze. “Oh, crap! The meat!” She bolted back outside, nearly tripping over a loose floorboard.

  Kane followed, chuckling as she frantically pulled the meat off the fire. “You’d think after the first few times, you’d learn.”

  She glared at him. “It was only once. Okay, maybe twice. Shut up.”

  He sat back down, shaking his head. The Ambrose Estate was a puzzle, each piece more twisted than the last. For now, his only certainty was that the Minotaur needed to stay buried beneath the guest house. Only then could they unravel the secrets of the main estate.