The Curse of Blackwood Estate

Chapter 4: The Warning

Ethan’s POV:

As I skimmed the damage reports, my grip tightened around the papers, frustration coiling tight in my chest. My phone buzzed—a new notification from my real estate portfolio. Another unexplained incident. Jaw clenched, I barely resisted the urge to fling the device across the room, the echo of recent setbacks gnawing at me in this strange, remote village.

A knock broke through my thoughts, and I opened the door to find Abigail. She looked pristine as ever, her blonde hair perfectly styled, her sharp black pencil skirt and crimson blouse at odds with the quaint, aged surroundings of Glenwyck. Everything about her—down to her glossy heels—screamed modernity, like she belonged in Edinburgh, not in this tucked-away Highland haven.

“Abigail,” I said, feeling my shoulders ease slightly despite myself. “What brings you all the way out here?”

She flashed me a polished smile, stepping inside without hesitation. “Checking on that coastal property I acquired nearby,” she replied. “Then I thought I’d swing by, see if you wanted some company.” Her gaze lingered on me as she looked around, almost like she was assessing how I’d ended up in such a place.

“How about a little drive? I heard there’s a fair in the village square. Could be nice to… unwind,” she added, her smile tugging at the edges, as if daring me.

Getting out of the house, even briefly, did sound tempting. “Sure. Let’s go.”

The drive was quiet at first, the soft hum of the car mingling with Abigail’s voice as she discussed her latest projects. Her tone was smooth and practiced, each word dipped in the ambition I knew well. I nodded absently, my thoughts still tangled in the mess of my own real estate portfolio, feeling a weight in my chest that the scenic surroundings did nothing to ease.

We soon reached the fairground, where Glenwyck Village was alive with activity. Stalls lined the cobbled paths, each one brightly draped, and the air was filled with the warm smells of grilled meats and fresh pastries. Abigail pointed to a street performer juggling flames, drawing cheers from the gathering crowd.

Then I saw her—a figure moving gracefully between the stalls, her auburn hair catching the low afternoon light like a halo. Lily wore a simple mustard-yellow dress that seemed to belong to this place, blending with the Highland landscape as if she were part of it. As if she sensed my gaze, she looked up, her green eyes meeting mine for a split second, and I felt a jolt of something electric course through me. My heart seemed to stop, and for a brief moment, the crowded fairground faded away. But she looked away just as quickly, moving on as if I were a stranger.

Abigail’s touch on my arm pulled me back, her brows knit in concern. “You alright?”

I forced a smile, rubbing my temple. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

Abigail gave me a searching look before glancing toward the car. “If you’re not feeling it, we could head back. It’s getting late anyway.”

I nodded, feeling oddly drained. That witch must have done something to me, because the feeling stirring in my chest was unfamiliar, unsettling. Abigail’s voice filled the car as we drove down the narrow, winding road flanked by towering trees and dense, mist-shrouded hills, her chatter distant, as if I were underwater. The fading light cast long shadows across the road, and the ancient trees seemed to close in on us, wrapping us in a peculiar embrace.

Out of nowhere, Abigail’s hand slid onto my arm, her fingers warm against my skin. “You know, Ethan, we make a good team, you and I. Both personally and professionally.”

I stiffened, her touch sparking a strange discomfort. “Sure, Abigail,” I managed, feeling my chest tighten with an emotion I couldn’t quite place.

She laughed lightly, but there was an edge to it. “You’re always so intense, Ethan. Maybe it’s time you relaxed a bit.”

The road narrowed further, the trees forming a dense canopy overhead, casting us in an otherworldly gloom. Abigail was still watching me when a figure suddenly appeared, darting out of the shadows.

“Watch out!” I shouted.

She jerked the wheel, and the headlights briefly illuminated an old woman with wild silver hair, her eyes glinting against the darkness. The tires screeched as the car swerved, narrowly missing her. For a moment, we sat frozen, Abigail’s breaths coming in short, panicked gasps as her hands gripped the wheel.

“Did we… did we hit her?” she whispered, her voice barely steady.

My heart hammered as I stumbled out of the car, feeling a surge of adrenaline. The woman lay on the narrow road, her form eerily still, cloaked in ragged fabrics that seemed stitched from different eras. Her eyes, though, were fixed on me, piercing and unnervingly calm.

I knelt, my voice barely more than a whisper. “Are you alright?”

Her gaze drilled into me, as though she were peering into the depths of my soul. “Your aura is corrupted,” she murmured, her voice barely more than a breath, each word sending a chill down my spine. “A curse, bound to your essence. You’ve harmed more than you know… and it will keep taking until you make amends. If you do nothing… that which you fear most shall consume you.”

A cold shiver crept through me. “What are you talking about?” I asked, irritation surfacing. “You were just hit. Let me take you to a hospital.”

She shook her head, her voice growing firmer. “The damage is already done. Only forgiveness can sever the tie.”

The blare of the car horn shattered the quiet. Abigail leaned out, her voice cutting through the thick night air. “Ethan, let’s go! She’s probably just another villager, wandering lost. We need to move on.”

I hesitated, my fists clenching as the woman’s grip tightened on my sleeve, her cold fingers digging into my skin with a strength that belied her frail appearance. Her gaze held mine, an intensity in her eyes that sent a prickle down my spine. “Forgiveness,” she whispered one last time, the word hanging in the air like a warning before she released me, slipping into the dark woods with silent, deliberate steps, vanishing as quickly as she had appeared.

Abigail scrambled out, her irritation clear as she shoved past me. “Let’s go,” she said, exasperated. “This is absurd. She’s obviously fine.”

We climbed back into the car, the silence heavy and thick. I cast one last glance over my shoulder, but the woman had disappeared entirely, as if swallowed by the shadows.

Abigail let out a shaky laugh, the sound brittle. “Ethan… what just happened?”

I didn’t answer, the woman’s words echoing in my mind, a haunting melody tangled with Nana’s recent warnings. I didn’t believe in curses or magic, but something in this village seemed to hold a darkness I couldn’t shake. My grip tightened on the door handle as I stared at the winding road, a chill settling over me that even the car’s warmth couldn’t thaw.