Crowswood: Blood and Moonfall

CHAPTER 2: FIRST CONTACT

Chapter 2: First Contact

Freya's POV

The Crowswood Public Library occupied a building that had probably been elegant in the 1920s. Now it looked like a mausoleum for dead knowledge, its once-grand columns stained black with decades of industrial fallout. Inside, dust motes danced in shafts of weak sunlight, and the silence felt heavy enough to crush bones.

The librarian was a skeletal woman named Mrs. Hartwell who spoke in whispers and moved like she was afraid of disturbing the ghosts. When I asked for local newspapers from the past few years, she led me to a back room filled with microfilm machines that belonged in a museum.

"We don't get many researchers," she said, her voice barely audible. "Most people prefer to forget our history rather than study it."

I spent three hours scrolling through headlines, my eyes burning from the ancient screen. The story they told was depressingly familiar: factory closures, population decline, environmental disasters swept under regulatory carpets. But scattered throughout were stranger items. Missing persons reports that seemed to vanish after initial coverage. Industrial accidents with details that didn't quite add up. And always, always, mentions of the Vennor family.

Vennor Industries owned half the town's remaining businesses. Vennor Foundation funded the other half. Vennor this, Vennor that, like a spider's web with their name at every junction. The patriarch, Magnus Vennor, had died five years ago, leaving control to his two sons. Kael had taken over as CEO while Rhys handled "community relations," whatever that meant.

I found exactly three photos of the brothers in all my searching. Kael looked like he could break someone in half without breaking a sweat. Broad shoulders, dark hair, cold eyes that seemed to stare right through the camera lens. Rhys was leaner, more approachable, with warm eyes and an easy smile that probably made people want to trust him. Both were handsome enough to be models, which struck me as oddly convenient for men who supposedly ran industrial companies.

"Find what you were looking for?" Mrs. Hartwell appeared at my shoulder like smoke.

"Still looking. Do these missing persons cases ever get resolved?"

Her face went carefully blank. "I wouldn't know about that. You'd have to ask the police."

"And the Vennor family? They seem to be involved in everything around here."

"They're... generous employers. Good to the community." The words sounded rehearsed, like she'd said them many times before.

I leaned back in my chair, studying her. "Mrs. Hartwell, I'm looking for information about my sister. Her name was Lyra Chen. She came here about two years ago."

The color drained from her face so quickly I thought she might faint. Her hands started shaking, and she gripped the back of my chair like an anchor.

"I think you should leave," she whispered.

"Please. I just need to know what happened to her."

"Nothing happened to her. She left. People leave Crowswood all the time." But her eyes said otherwise, darting toward the windows like she expected someone to be watching.

"Mrs. Hartwell"

"The library's closing early today." She was already moving away, her whispers turning sharp with panic. "You need to go. Now."

I gathered my notes and headed for the door, but stopped when I heard her voice, so quiet I almost missed it.

"She was asking about the old Vennor place. The manor up on Crow Hill. I told her the same thing. I'm telling you some places are better left alone."

Outside, the afternoon air tasted like metal and regret. I looked up toward the hill that loomed over downtown Crowswood, where a Gothic mansion crouched against the gray sky like a predator waiting to pounce. Even from this distance, I could see the iron gates, the tall windows that reflected nothing but darkness.

My sister had been asking about that place. Whatever answers I needed were probably hidden behind those walls.

I walked back toward the inn, hyperaware of the stares following me. A man in an expensive suit watched me from across the street, his face hidden behind sunglasses despite the cloudy day. A woman loading groceries into her car stopped to stare, her expression unreadable. Two teenagers on the corner whispered to each other and pointed in my direction.

News traveled fast in small towns, but this felt different. More coordinated. Like I was walking through a theater where everyone knew their role except me.

Back in my room, I spread out everything I'd learned on the bed. The pattern was becoming clearer people came to Crowswood asking questions about the Vennors or the missing persons, and then they either left quickly or disappeared themselves. Lyra had been asking about the manor, which meant she'd gotten close to something important.

My phone buzzed with a text from an unknown number: "Stop looking or join her."

I stared at the screen, ice flooding my veins. Someone was watching me, had been watching me since I arrived. They knew why I was here, knew about Lyra. And they were confident enough to threaten me directly.

I should have been terrified. Any reasonable person would have packed up and driven straight back to Chicago. Instead, I felt something I hadn't experienced in two years. The threat meant I was on the right track. Lyra had been here, had gotten close enough to whatever the truth was that someone felt the need to stop her.

I wasn't going anywhere.

As night fell over Crowswood, I sat by my window and watched the manor on the hill. Lights moved behind its windows, and I could swear I saw shapes that didn't look quite human. Whatever lived up there, whatever had taken my sister; they were about to learn that the other Chen sister was just as stubborn and twice as angry.

The game had begun.