Walking into a fully lit house at 12 o’clock in the evening seemed so human that even I shocked myself. However, I knew keeping a place set aside for us to go to was the best idea I could have come up with in these circumstances. Right now I was glad I chose this house. Although it was fittingly named “Casa Lobo” (Spanish, if you didn’t know), it looked just any other large house in the countryside. Elsbury, the main town in the centre of Chiltern, was about one mile from here and I could just make out the lights of civilization that the house faced. The Casa Lobo was stood at the end of the long driveway like a sentinel between the rest of the world and us.
The door shut and locked itself with a soft click that was hard to hear over the moaning I could hear coming from our basement. It was tiny in comparison to the one I had been in just 5 minutes beforehand. Walking calmly towards the sound, I wondered how he was doing down there.
Slowly opening the small door in front of me, I peaked cautiously into the room. The dim light was on and flickering a little. I need to change that again. I made a mental note to myself.
I gazed vaguely around as I walked in, treading carefully to avoid making unnecessary noises. Reaching out with my mind, I felt the room’s occupant whimper in pain.
“How’re you doing Regan?” I asked tentatively.
He answered by shifting for, probably, the hundredth time this evening.