Chapter 3
Sheep and a Wolfress
Minutes later, the car rolled through a set of towering iron gates.
Beyond them stood a mansion that looked as though it had been stolen from another century.
Gargoyles perched along the stone walls; their weathered faces twisted into expressions of agony. Statues of dramatized screaming figures stood scattered throughout the grounds, some cracked by time, others partially swallowed by creeping vines.
To the left of the mansion stretched a vast, maze-like garden.
It had clearly been neglected.
Wild vegetation crawled over stone paths and climbed the walls, as though the garden had begun reclaiming the estate for itself.
Far beyond it lay stretches of forested hills and open grassland. The distant forest appeared greener than the trees surrounding the mansion, but there was something darker about it too. The further his eyes travelled, the more the trees seemed to twist together into a vast, living mass.
A haunted forest.
At least, that was what his mind called it.
He felt a shiver run down his spine.
Whoever had designed this place had possessed either extraordinary taste or a disturbing fascination with death.
The car came to a stop.
She switched off the engine.
For a moment, neither of them moved.
She glanced at him.
"So, how is it?" she couldn't hide the amused smile that plastered her face.
He looked toward the mansion.
"Hm."
He squinted.
"Passable."
Hope's lips twitched.
"Passable?"
"Yeah."
He looked around the grounds again.
"Feels like a haunted house."
Her smile widened.
"Afraid of little old ghosts?" she smirked
He slowly turned toward her.
She was enjoying this far too much.
He considered giving her a lengthy answer.
Looking at that smug look on her face, he decided against it.
"…We'll see."
Hope laughed quietly.
"Come on."
She grabbed the shopping bags from the back seat and stepped out.
He followed.
The gravel crunched beneath their feet as they crossed the courtyard.
The mansion seemed even larger up close.
Its stone façade rose above them in dark layers, enormous windows staring outward like silent eyes.
The front doors opened before Hope could touch them.
He stopped.
Hope didn't.
"You have automatic doors?"
"Among other things."
She walked inside.
He followed.
The moment he crossed the threshold, his assumptions about the mansion disappeared.
The grand hall was unlike anything he had expected.
Black marble stretched across the floor, polished enough to reflect the warm glow of the chandeliers overhead. A large rug spread across the center of the room, so dark it seemed to swallow the light around it.
The walls were painted in deep obsidian, their ornate carvings highlighted by thin threads of gold.
Tall arched windows overlooked the gardens, allowing pale green-tinted light to spill into the hall.
Above them, an intricate wrought-iron balcony curved around the upper floor.
Yet beneath all that old-world architecture sat sleek, modern furniture.
Black leather sofas surrounded a glass table framed in polished gold.
Small lights glimmered from hidden fixtures.
Thin digital displays were embedded into portions of the walls.
Every detail spoke of wealth and deliberate design, a place meant to impress as much as it was meant to intimidate it spoke majesty and bold pride in its astute design.
Ancient luxury and futuristic technology had somehow been forced into the same room.
And somehow...
it worked.
He slowly turned in place.
"This is…"
Hope looked over her shoulder.
"Terrible?"
He shook his head.
"Actually…"
He looked around again.
"Impressive."
She smiled.
"I'll take that."
A beat of silence passed.
Then Hope turned toward him.
"Oh."
She suddenly seemed to remember something.
"Where are my manners?"
She placed one of the shopping bags down.
"I never properly introduced myself."
She held out a hand.
"Hope Elizabeth Valentine."
He looked at her hand.
Then at her.
He knew he was supposed to respond with his own name.
But there wasn't one.
"I…"
His voice faded.
He lowered his eyes.
"Sorry. I…"
Hope's expression softened.
"You don't remember?"
He shook his head.
"Nothing."
"Hm."
She withdrew her hand without making the moment awkward.
"It's okay."
She picked the bag back up.
"If it doesn't come back on its own, we'll figure something out."
He looked at her.
There was no teasing in her voice this time.
Just sincerity.
"I'm sorry for imposing on you."
He meant it.
"And…thank you."
Hope smiled.
"You're welcome."
He hesitated.
"Were you the one who found me?"
"Before the hospital?"
"Yeah."
Hope nodded.
"You actually fell from the sky."
He stared at her.
Then laughed.
A dry, disbelieving laugh.
"Nice one."
Hope's expression didn't change.
"It isn't a joke."
His smile disappeared.
"Wait."
He looked at her carefully.
"You're serious?"
"Like a land mine."
She pointed two fingers toward her eyes.
"Clear sky. Two eyes. I saw the whole thing."
He stared at her.
"I fell…"
"From the sky."
"From a plane?"
"Nope."
"A helicopter?"
"Nope."
He frowned.
"Then what?"
"You just…fell."
He stared at the ceiling as though the answer might somehow be written there.
"That's impossible."
"Apparently not."
"Did I have wings?"
"No."
"Jetpack?"
"No."
"Parachute?"
"Also no."
He rubbed his forehead.
"So, I just dropped out of the sky."
"Correct."
He looked at her.
"And you thought, what? That you'd catch me?"
Hope laughed.
"No. You landed in a lake."
That shut him up.
She continued.
"I saw the splash from the cliff."
"And you jumped in."
"Yep."
He stared at her.
"You just jumped into a lake for a complete stranger?"
Hope shrugged.
"You looked like you needed help."
He didn't know how to respond to that.
For a moment, he simply looked at her.
"Why?"
She tilted her head.
"Why what?"
"Why help me?"
Hope's expression became difficult to read.
"Because you were drowning."
"That simple?"
"Sometimes it is."
He looked away.
Something about that answer bothered him.
Not because it sounded false.
Because it sounded too easy.
He could remember almost dying.
He could remember pain.
He could remember falling.
But he couldn't remember anything before that.
And yet this stranger had thrown herself into a lake after him without knowing who he was.
"That's either incredibly kind…"
He looked back at her.
"…or incredibly stupid."
Hope grinned.
"Little of both."
"Kay, let's not dwell on it too much. It'll come when it comes."
Hope gave him a steady nod.
He studied her for a moment.
She was strangely calm.
Too calm.
Most people would probably be asking questions by now. Who was he? Where had he come from? Why had he fallen from the sky? Why had he been found half-dead in the woods?
Instead, Hope stood there as though bringing a mysterious amnesiac home was simply another item on her schedule.
He glanced around the hall.
"So…"
"So?"
"This place."
He gestured vaguely at the mansion.
"You live here?"
Hope smiled.
"Among other things."
"That isn't really an answer."
"It's the one you're getting."
He narrowed his eyes.
She smiled wider.
He was beginning to suspect she enjoyed doing that.
"Right."
He turned away from her.
"Definitely a haunted house."
"Oh, come on."
Hope walked past him and tossed the bags onto one of the sofas.
"You haven't even seen the best part."
"There's a worse part?"
"The best part."
"That wasn't reassuring."
She laughed.
The sound echoed strangely through the enormous hall.
For the first time since waking up, he found himself almost smiling.
Almost.
Then something moved upstairs.
He looked up.
A shadow disappeared behind the balcony.
He froze.
"Did you see that?"
Hope looked over her shoulder.
"See what?"
"There."
He pointed.
Nothing.
Only the dark balcony.
"I swear something moved."
Hope shrugged.
"Probably one of the staff."
"Staff?"
She looked at him.
"Yes."
He stared at the mansion.
"This place has staff?"
Hope's expression became amused again.
"Did you think I maintained all of this myself?"
He looked at the cracked gargoyles outside.
Then the sprawling gardens.
Then the enormous hall.
"No."
"Exactly."
She picked up one of the bags.
"Come on."
"Where?"
"Somewhere you can shower without drowning yourself."
"That sounds oddly specific."
Hope began walking toward a corridor.
He followed.
.....
They walked deeper into the mansion.
The mansion was even larger on the inside.
Every corridor seemed to lead somewhere else.
He passed paintings that appeared centuries old beside transparent digital displays embedded into the walls.
The combination was bizarre.
Ancient.
Modern.
Almost incompatible.
Yet somehow it worked.
He noticed things Hope never bothered explaining.
There were no photographs of family anywhere.
No obvious signs of a normal household.
Instead, there were locked doors, advanced security panels and strange pieces of equipment tucked discreetly into otherwise elegant rooms.
The mansion didn't feel like a home.
It felt like something else.
Something disguised as one.
"You live here alone?... Apart from the staff"
Hope glanced at him.
"No."
"Family?"
She was quiet for half a second too long.
"Friends."
He noticed the hesitation.
But he didn't push.
Not yet.
….
As they passed a long corridor lined with paintings.
He stopped before a painting.
One in particular had caught his attention.
A woman stood in an elaborate dark dress beneath an enormous crimson moon stared back at him from beneath a golden frame.
Her eyes seemed unnervingly familiar.
He slowed and stepped closer.
Hope noticed.
"Something wrong?"
"I…"
He stared at the painting.
"Do I know her?"
Hope looked at it.
"No."
"You sure?"
"Yes."
He stared for another second.
Nothing.
No memory surfaced.
Just an inexplicable feeling.
"Then who is she?"
Hope stopped walking.
She looked at the painting.
Then at him.
"One of my ancestors."
He looked back at the portrait.
"She's staring at me."
"No."
"She stares at everyone." She joked
He frowned.
"But she's staring at me."
Hope gave him a strange look.
Then she continued walking.
"Maybe she likes you."
"That isn't funny."
"I thought it was."
He walked on.
...
They eventually reached a quieter part of the mansion.
Hope opened a door.
"Here."
Inside was a bedroom.
Modern, clean and comfortable.
A large window overlooked the gardens A bed occupied one side.
A wardrobe stood against the opposite wall.
Several shelves held books, equipment, and objects whose purposes he couldn't even begin to guess.
Hope placed the clothes on the bed.
"Bathroom's through there."
He looked toward the door.
"And?"
"And?"
"You just brought a strange man you found dying in the woods into your house."
"Yes."
"And you're letting me shower unsupervised."
"Yes."
"You trust me?"
Hope leaned against the doorway.
"No."
He stared.
She smiled.
"But I'm curious."
"That's somehow worse."
She laughed.
Pointing at the bags placed on the bed.
"Clothes."
He looked down at himself.
"Right."
She pointed toward the bathroom.
"Go clean up."
He nodded.
Then stopped.
"Hope."
She looked back.
"Yeah?"
"Thank you."
For a moment, her teasing expression disappeared.
A small smile appeared.
"You said that already."
"I know."
"Still…"
She nodded.
"You're welcome."
She stepped out.
The door closed behind her.
He stood alone.
Silence settled around him.
For the first time since waking up, he was alone.
He stared at himself in the mirror.
A stranger stared back.
Young.
Tired.
Confused.
He raised a hand.
The reflection did the same.
He touched his face.
Nothing.
No memory.
No name.
No childhood.
No home.
Nothing.
Just an empty space where his life should have been.
His eyes drifted downward at his chest.
His chest tightened.
He looked down
His fingers hovered over the place where the impossible wound had been.
There was no scar.
No damage.
Not even a mark.
He pressed his palm against it.
At first, nothing happened.
Then—
Bdum.
His eyes widened.
A faint warmth spread beneath his skin.
Bdum.
He pulled his hand away.
The warmth disappeared.
He stared at his chest.
"What…"
A flash of lightning crossed his mind.
Rain.
A rooftop.
White light.
Pain.
Something floating inside him.
He stumbled backward.
The memory vanished as quickly as it came.
He gripped the edge of the sink.
Breathing hard.
He stared at his hand.
"What the hell are you?"
…..
A knock came from the other side of the door.
He straightened.
"You alive in there?"
Hope.
He looked at the mirror one last time.
"Unfortunately."
The door opened slightly.
Hope peeked in.
"Good."
She grinned.
"For a second there, I thought the haunted house got you."
He rolled his eyes.
"You really don't get tired, do you?"
"Nope."
"Figures."
She tossed him a fresh towel.
"Come on. I want to show you the grounds before sunset."
He caught it.
"The grounds?"
"Trust me."
He looked suspicious.
"That's exactly what someone in a haunted mansion would say."
Hope laughed.
"Get dressed."
Several minutes later, he emerged from the bathroom wearing the clothes Hope had bought.
They were simple.
Black trousers.
A dark shirt.
A jacket.
Nothing special.
Yet somehow, wearing them made the situation feel more real.
He was no longer a patient.
He was a person again.
Or something pretending to be one.
As he entered the hallway, he heard voices from downstairs.
Hope wasn't alone.
He descended slowly.
But on arrival he found no one there.
He didn't ask.
....
A short while later, they stepped back outside.
The evening sun was beginning to descend behind the distant hills, painting the sky in muted gold and violet.
The gardens looked different under the fading light.
Less threatening.
Almost beautiful.
Almost.
Hope walked ahead; hands tucked into her jacket pockets.
He followed several steps behind.
For the first time since waking up, he wasn't running.
Nobody was chasing him.
Nobody was restraining him.
Nobody was asking him questions.
Just walking.
The silence felt strange.
Almost peaceful.
"So…"
Hope glanced back.
"You hate the house."
"I never said that."
"You called it haunted."
"I still stand by that."
"Fair."
They continued walking.
"Do you remember anything from before the woods?"
"No."
"Anything at all?"
He thought for a moment.
"A heartbeat."
Hope looked back at him.
"What?"
He touched his chest.
"Nothing useful."
Her eyes remained on him for a second longer than necessary.
Then she smiled.
"Well…"
She turned forward.
"Maybe it'll come back."
He nodded.
"Maybe."
They walked deeper into the estate.
Past the old garden.
Past the statues.
Past the outer wall.
The trees grew thicker.
The mansion gradually disappeared behind them.
He looked around.
"Where are we going?"
"Just walking."
"Just walking?"
"Yep."
He narrowed his eyes.
"You're suspicious."
"I'm charming."
"Debatable."
Hope laughed.
They continued farther from the mansion.
The path became narrower.
The forest swallowed the last traces of the estate.
He looked back.
He could barely see the mansion anymore.
For the first time, he realized how far they had walked.
"Hope?"
She stopped.
"Hmm?"
He noticed something.
Her back was still turned toward him.
"You said you live with friends."
"Yeah."
"Where are they?"
Silence.
Hope slowly turned around.
The playful smile was gone.
He instincts stirred.
Something was wrong.
"Hope?"
She looked at him.
"I'm sorry."
He frowned.
"For what?"
Her eyes sharpened.
Before he could react—
she moved.
A flash.
A sharp impact struck the side of his neck.
His vision exploded into white.
His knees buckled.
He tried to reach for her.
"Wh…"
The world tilted.
Hope caught him before he hit the ground.
She lowered him gently.
His vision blurred.
The last thing he saw was her face.
No smile.
No teasing.
Only a cold, unreadable expression.
Then darkness.
…..
Drip.
Huh….
Drip.
He woke to the sound of dripping water.
Drip.
His head throbbed.
He tried to move.
Metal restrained his wrists.
Cold stone pressed against his back.
He opened his eyes.
Darkness surrounded him.
A single light flickered above.
Then footsteps approached.
One pair.
Then another.
Then several more.
A familiar voice spoke from somewhere in front of him.
"Good."
Hope stepped into the light.
But she wasn't alone.
Several unfamiliar silhouettes stood behind her.
Her expression was different.
Professional.
Cold.
The woman who had saved him at the lake was gone.
Hope looked directly into his eyes.
"We need to talk."
He pulled against the restraints.
"What is this?"
Hope remained silent for a moment.
Then:
"Let's find out who you really are."
The light above him flickered.
And the darkness returned.