They both sat on the stairs of an empty corner at Unknown Street, Dixon. From there, they could see the buried studio clearly—still and silent, like it was holding secrets underground.
The air was cold. Olivia didn't say much. Her eyes stared ahead, but her mind was full of Carter.
She remembered her laughter, her voice echoing in the kitchen, her habit of humming while studying. The memories hit hard. Her throat tightened.
"I miss her," Olivia whispered. "Every second feels heavier without her."
Grace looked at her but said nothing. She understood.
They were both hurting—just showing it differently.
But Olivia pulled herself together. She wasn't ready to fall apart.
Not yet.
"There's still one lead," she said, wiping her eyes.
"We follow it. We don't stop until we find the truth."
The studio stood quietly across the street.
And they weren't turning back.
Suddenly, at 10:30 p.m., the street fell silent. No people. No cars. Just empty air and dim lights.
Grace and Olivia were still sitting on the stairs, lost in thought—until they heard the sound of a car engine slowly pulling up.
A yellow cab stopped right in front of them.
The window rolled down.
The driver leaned out and said, "Excuse me… is there a Grace Williams here? I got a booking in this name. It's showing this exact location."
Grace froze. She hadn't ordered anything.
"I'm the cab captain," the man continued. "Maybe someone else booked it for you?"
Olivia and Grace exchanged a look. No one knew they were here.
No one… except the person who had sent the letter.
Grace stood up slowly, her heart racing.
"Who booked it?" she asked.
The driver shrugged. "Came through the app. No number, just the name… and a note."
He held up a paper receipt. It read:
> For Grace Williams
"Trust the driver. Destination already known."
Grace looked at the note again.
Trust the driver. Destination already known.
It sounded risky. Maybe even dangerous.
But they had no other option. No more clues. No more leads.
"We're going," Grace said quietly.
Olivia nodded, though her hands were shaking a little. "If this is the way to Carter, we follow it."
They opened the cab door and sat inside.
The driver didn't say much. He just glanced at them through the mirror and started the engine.
The cab moved forward slowly, turning away from Vulture Street. The lights of Dixon faded behind them. The streets got darker, quieter.
Neither of them spoke. They just looked outside the windows, trying to guess where they were being taken.
But deep down, both of them knew—
This ride wasn't just a trip.
It was a step deeper into the mystery.
_
At exactly 12:00 midnight, the cab slowed down and stopped in front of a quiet, unfamiliar place. There were only a few old houses scattered along the narrow road. The area looked abandoned—no streetlights, no sound, just a cold wind blowing through dry trees.
Grace looked out the window. "Where are we?"
Before Olivia could answer, three young men appeared from the shadows. Their faces were partly hidden by hoodies. They walked straight toward the cab.
One of them opened the back door. "Come with us," he said. His voice was calm but serious.
Grace hesitated, but the driver spoke from the front. "It's okay. You're safe with them."
He got out of the car too and came around to stand behind them.
Olivia grabbed Grace's hand. "We don't have a choice now."
The boys didn't touch them. They just turned and began walking toward one of the broken houses.
Grace and Olivia followed silently.
Somewhere in that silence, they knew—
They had crossed a line.
And there was no going back.
—
As they stepped into the broken old house, the door creaked shut behind them. The air inside was cold and heavy with dust. No lights. Just shadows.
Then—
A voice came from the darkness.
"You finally came…"
Grace and Olivia froze. It was a soft, echoing voice. Not angry—but not calm either.
A dim light flickered on in the corner of the room.
And there they saw her.
The same girl who had given Olivia the letter at Jackson Square.
She stood near an old wooden table, eyes locked on them.
Beside her was another girl—Grace recognized her too. She had seen her before near a public telephone center while searching for clues. At that time, she had thought the girl was just a passerby. But now, she knew better.
Then, a third girl stepped forward from the shadows. This one was new. Her face was calm, but her eyes looked tired, like she had seen too much.
The room fell silent.
Three unknown girls.
One dark house.
And too many unanswered questions.
Grace's voice shook slightly.
"Who… who are you? Why are we here?"
The first girl smiled faintly.
"We're the ones who know what happened to Carter."
"Not yet," it said.
Everyone turned toward the corner of the room, where the shadows were thickest. No one stood there. Just darkness.
The three girls went quiet, lowering their eyes like they were waiting for permission.
Grace's heart raced. Olivia stepped slightly in front of her, protective.
The voice continued, calm but firm, as if it had been expecting them for a long time.
"You're not here for answers… not yet. First, you must understand what really happened. And what it cost."
The air felt heavier. Grace looked at the three girls—but they didn't speak.
The voice gave one final instruction:
"Room upstairs. Left door. You will find the beginning."
Then silence.
No footsteps. No breathing.
Just that feeling that they were not alone.
Olivia looked at Grace.
"Do we go?" she whispered.
Grace nodded. "We've come too far to stop now."
—
The deep voice echoed again from the darkness:
"Steve… bring Grace to the room. And bring her back after she collects it."
One of the boys nodded and silently guided Grace up the creaking stairs. Olivia watched, worried, but didn't stop her.
They reached the room with the left door.
Grace pushed it open slowly.
Inside was almost nothing—just an old wooden table and one thing on it:
A folded letter.
Its seal was a blood-red skull.
As soon as she stepped closer, a foul smell hit her nose.
Rotting. Heavy. Like something had died in there long ago.
She held her breath, grabbed the letter, and followed Steve back down to the others. Olivia was waiting with the three girls and the rest—eight people now, all watching quietly.
In the center of the house, Grace unfolded the letter.
One name was written on top:
Dr. Henry Ollive
The voice from the dark spoke again.
"Your daughter… Carter… was investigating the 2006 chemical fire at Gavena Laboratory, Louisiana."
"She discovered a name buried deep in forgotten files—Dr. Henry Ollive. Officially, he died in that fire. But the truth is far darker."
Everyone listened, frozen.
The voice continued:
"Ollive was a chemistry expert. But between 1997 and 2005, he kidnapped six people. He tortured them, harvested their organs, and sold them for profit. Each case was hidden so well, the victims were never found… just marked as 'vanished.'"
"Carter found out. She got too close."
"And now—he's taken her."
Silence fell like a storm.
The voice added, almost whispering:
"The world believes he died. But he didn't.
He built something underneath the old Vanishing Point studio.
A place hidden beneath the earth.
That's where he is now.
That's where Carter is."
"But reaching him… is nearly impossible.
His territory is cursed.
And we are not powerful enough to go alone."
Olivia held Grace's hand tightly.
Grace's eyes were full of tears—but burning with fire.
"We're going," she said.
The darkness didn't respond.
But something told them—
The real story was only just beginning.
—
The voice from the dark grew clearer, more commanding.
"Meet our team," it said.
"Steve Hausky, Kalen Pasquel, Osteal Miller.
Millie Harbour, Grase Hausky, Zoah Filkers.
Each of them has seen the trail Carter followed. We're not just searching—
We're hunting."
Everyone stood still as the names echoed through the broken walls.
"We have a source," the voice continued, "and the intel is clear.
Carter is in the hands of Dr. Henry Ollive.
And he's far more dangerous now than he was in 2006."
The shadows seemed to close in as he spoke.
"No one has seen him in years. He hides in silence. But we know this—
Vanishing Point isn't just a show. It's a trap.
And the real nest is underground.
Beneath the studio lies the place where monsters wake."
Grace looked around at the team, then stepped forward.
"But… who are you?" she asked. "Why are you in the dark?"
The voice paused.
Then came a quiet reply:
"I stay in the shadows because that's where I work best.
You don't need my name.
You can call me… the Stranger from the Shadows."
He went quiet again. The others looked at Grace and Olivia.
"You weren't supposed to be part of this," he added, "but Carter brought you in.
Now, follow Steve's lead. He was military—
Strong, tactical, focused. He'll guide you."
Olivia squeezed Grace's hand.
The night had deepened.
Steve gently guided Grace and Olivia out of the broken house and across the narrow street to another old but safer-looking home. The team had already lit a few lanterns inside, and the soft, warm light spilled through the cracked windows.
Inside, it was quiet. The air still carried the weight of mystery, but there was calm too.
A small table in the corner held bread, fruit, and hot soup. Zoah brought them plates while Millie handed them blankets.
"You both need strength," Millie said softly. "It's going to be a long journey."
Kalen sat nearby, checking a map while Osteal tuned a small radio. Grase Hausky leaned back against the wall, sipping from a flask, her eyes watching the windows like a silent guard.
Grace and Olivia sat together on an old couch. The first real food they'd eaten in hours warmed their stomachs. Their hands still trembled, but the kindness of these strangers gave them some peace.
Steve came over and crouched beside them.
"Rest tonight," he said. "You'll need it. We move at sunrise."
Olivia nodded slowly.
Grace looked up at the ceiling, trying to hold back the thoughts rushing in her head. But for now, at least, there was silence. Safety. And maybe… a bit of hope.
—