Elliott Row was frying an omelet when the phone rang, breaking the quiet of his apartment. The aroma of garlic and butter filled the kitchen as he wiped his hands on a towel and frowned at the unknown number flashing on the screen. “Hello?” he answered, expecting a wrong number.
Instead, a calm voice introduced itself as his family’s notary and insisted he come in the next morning to sign documents regarding an inheritance. Confused—his parents were alive—Elliott nodded silently, curiosity outweighing reason. The next morning, a foggy drive led him to an unusually quiet office, where the notary revealed that an uncle he never knew, Walter Jonas, had left him a mansion on Lake Konamah in central Connecticut.
In his hands, Elliott held a heavy key, a yellowed map, and a single sheet with the house’s address, sparking a thrill of curiosity he couldn’t ignore. Within an hour, Elliott packed a small backpack and drove the forty minutes to the lake. The water stretched before him like a mirror, and in its center rose a dark, imposing mansion.
Locals at a nearby café refused to speak about it, warning that the house was shrouded in mystery. Undeterred, Elliott convinced June, the boat operator, to take him across. As the boat cut through the mist, the mansion loomed larger, its wooden pier creaking beneath his feet.
The boat departed, leaving him alone, key in hand, ready to uncover the secrets hidden inside. The house was both eerie and inviting, filled with dust but surprisingly well-kept. Portraits lined the walls, including one of Walter Jonas standing by the very house, dated 1964.
What happened next changed everything… FULL STORY on the next page.
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