The key to Ashford Manor
1364 Words
Sophia barely slept.
The silver key rested on her bedside table beneath the weak glow of her lamp while rain continued whispering against the windows outside. Every time she closed her eyes, memories returned.
Thompson’s voice.
The gunshot.
The stranger’s smile.
Your parents weren’t innocent.
Her chest tightened painfully again.
Across the room, unfinished paintings leaned against the wall like silent witnesses. Normally, art calmed her mind, but tonight her thoughts felt too heavy to escape through paint.
At 4: 30 a.m., her phone buzzed.
A message from Thompson.
Do not tell anyone about the key.
She stared at the text for several seconds before replying.
What does it open?
Three dots appeared instantly.
Then disappeared.
Then returned.
Finally:
Ashford Manor.
Sophia frowned.
She had heard the name before. Everyone in Raven Hill had.
Ashford Manor was an abandoned estate hidden deep outside the city near Blackwater Forest. According to local rumors, the mansion once belonged to wealthy politicians before a fire destroyed half the property years ago.
People avoid it now.
Some claimed it was haunted.
Others said criminals used it for secret meetings.
Neither explanation comforted her.
Another message arrived.
We leave tomorrow morning. Don’t go anywhere alone tonight.
Before she could respond, Thompson went offline.
Sophia stared at her phone, emotions twisting painfully inside her chest.
Part of her wanted to stay far away from him.
The other part already knew she wouldn’t.
The next morning arrived gray and cold.
Luna stood inside Sophia’s apartment kitchen making coffee while lecturing aggressively.
“So let me summarize,” Luna said. “Your mysterious rich boy has secret underground galleries, dangerous enemies, family trauma, and now hidden mansion keys?”
Sophia sighed tiredly.
“When you say it like that, it sounds worse.”
“It is worse.”
A car horn sounded outside.
Luna peeked through the blinds immediately.
“He’s here.”
Thompson leaned against his black car downstairs wearing a dark coat again. Wind moved through his hair while he checked something on his phone.
Even from the window, he looked intimidating.
And exhausted.
Luna crossed her arms.
“He looks like emotional damage in human form.”
Sophia grabbed her jacket.
“I’ll be careful.”
“You better. If he gets you kidn*pped, I’m fighting him.”
Despite everything, Sophia smiled slightly.
“You hate him.”
“I absolutely do.”
A pause.
“But I also think he’d burn down the world for you.”
The comment caught Sophia off guard.
Before she could answer, Luna hugged her tightly.
“Just come back alive.”
The drive out of Raven Hill felt strangely quiet.
Fog covered the roads leading toward the forest while old trees stretched endlessly around them. Thompson kept both hands on the steering wheel, focused and tense.
Sophia finally broke the silence.
“You haven’t slept either.”
“No.”
“You should.”
“So should you.”
She looked down at the silver key in her hand.
“What’s inside Ashford Manor?”
“My father’s study.”
“And the evidence?”
“Hopefully.”
His jaw tightened slightly after saying it.
Sophia noticed.
“You think someone has already found it.”
“I think someone has been searching for years.”
Fear settled uneasily inside her stomach.
The deeper they traveled into the forest, the darker the road became. Eventually, massive iron gates appeared ahead covered in vines and rust.
ASHFORD MANOR.
The letters barely remained visible.
Thompson parked near the entrance.
The mansion beyond the gates looked enormous, even in ruin. Burned sections scarred one side of the building while cracked windows reflected the gray sky above.
It looked abandoned.
But not empty.
Sophia felt it immediately.
Someone had been here recently.
“You feel it too,” Thompson said quietly.
She looked at him.
“What?”
“We’re not alone.”
Her heartbeat quickened instantly.
Thompson reached into the glove compartment and removed a flashlight.
“Sophia,” he said calmly, “stay close to me.”
She nodded.
The front doors creaked open with effort.
Dust filled the air inside the mansion. Torn curtains hung near broken windows while faded portraits lined the walls like ghosts from another century.
Their footsteps echoed softly through the silence.
“This place is terrifying,” Sophia whispered.
“It used to be beautiful.”
Something about the sadness in Thompson’s voice made her glance toward him.
“This place mattered to you.”
“My father brought me here when I was younger.”
Sophia noticed the way his expression softened slightly while remembering.
“You loved him.”
Thompson looked away.
“Yes.”
The honesty in that single word hurt more than she expected.
Because she understood it perfectly.
They moved deeper into the manor carefully until Thompson stopped before a large wooden door upstairs.
“My father’s study.”
Sophia held up the silver key.
“This opens it?”
He nodded.
Her hands trembled slightly as she inserted the key into the lock.
Click.
The door slowly opened.
Dust-covered bookshelves filled the room from floor to ceiling. Papers covered an enormous desk near the fireplace while old paintings rested against the walls.
It felt frozen in time.
Thompson moved quickly toward the desk, searching for drawers while Sophia examined the room carefully.
Then she noticed something strange.
A painting hanging crookedly above the fireplace.
She stepped closer.
The painting showed Raven Hill at night, but behind the canvas edge, she spotted part of a metal safe hidden inside the wall.
“Thompson.”
He turned immediately.
“What?”
She pointed.
Within seconds, he moved beside her.
Together they pulled the painting aside completely.
A safe.
Locked.
Damien exhaled slowly.
“This is it.”
“Sophia looked at the keypad.
“Do you know the code?”
Thompson frowned slightly.
“My father always used important dates.”
Sophia thought carefully.
Then suddenly she remembered something her father once told her when she was younger.
Some memories open doors, Sophia.
Her eyes widened.
“My birthday.”
Thompson looked at her sharply.
“What?”
“He and my father were friends. Maybe they used my birthday.”
She entered the numbers slowly.
The safe clicked open instantly.
Both of them froze.
Inside rested several files… and a single photograph.
Sophia carefully picked it up.
Her breath caught immediately.
The picture showed her parents standing beside Thompson’s father years ago.
And beside them—
A younger Thompson.
Maybe fifteen.
His arm rested protectively around Sophia as a child.
She stared at the image in shock.
“We knew each other?”
Thompson’s silence answered first.
Then quietly:
“You used to follow me everywhere.”
Her heart skipped unexpectedly.
“What?”
“You were eight,” he said softly. “You thought I was cool because I let you paint in my sketchbooks.”
Sophia looked back at the photo, stunned.
Tiny memories flickered faintly in her mind.
Dark hair.
Blue eyes.
Laughter.
“You remembered me this whole time?”
“Yes.”
Emotion tightened painfully in her chest.
“That’s why you were watching me.”
Thomy stepped closer slowly.
“I promised your father I’d protect you if anything happened.”
The room suddenly felt smaller.
More intimate.
Sophia looked up at him.
“You kept a promise for three years.”
“I failed it the night your parents died.”
His voice cracked slightly for the first time.
That tiny break in composure shattered something inside her.
Without thinking, Sophia reached for his hand.
Thompson froze at the contact.
“You were just a kid too,” she whispered.
For a moment, neither of them moved.
The air between them changed again.
Softer.
Dangerously emotional.
Then—
A loud crash echoed downstairs.
Both of them turned instantly.
Footsteps.
Several of them.
Thompson’s expression darkened immediately.
“They found us.”
Voices echoed through the manor below.
And one of them sounded terrifyingly familiar.
The man in gray.
“Sophia Benson!” he shouted mockingly. “Come downstairs. We need to talk about your parents.”
- Writer
