I slip past the gates, heading toward the door. There's no real reason to sneak around, but I'm so used to it I can't help but do so.
I mean, it's not like anyone's going to be here. This place was abandoned years ago.
But when I open the door, I know I spoke too soon.
The entry hall is covered in dust, and I can see footprints across it. Made in the past few hours, too, and it's possible that whoever made them is still here.
Cautiously, I look around. There it is, right there, the object I came for.
But now I can't move. Someone could be watching me, and it may very well be the guy who owned this in the first place.
I go over the situation in my mind. He was declared dead six months ago, but they never found a body, so he could conceivibly still be alive. It seems unlikely, given how high-profile he was, but his money could have bought people to hide him, and a place to stay. This house was long considered abandoned, but it's remained up, not to be sold or demolished.
It's rather unnerving, going through here. There's like a ghost around, in every phantom footstep. It feels like someone's following me as I approach the treasure. It had nothing to do with him personally, it was just a painting he happened to own. But it feels like he's everywhere.
Bah, when I came in, nothing bothered me. Just some footprints across the floor. That only means that *someone* was here, not necessarily him...
Now I see something moving out of the corner of my eye...
The ending's kinda creepy.