Elias stepped onto the veranda of the Alderidge Lane house as if drawn by a glamorous force. The fog rolled in thick swells, entwining around the broken rail, around the gnarled trees, concealing the path beneath. The house impended like a living guard, its makeup shelling, its windows dark yet nearly shimmering with expectation. A low hum sounded to radiate from the walls, wobbling through the rustic bottom beneath his bases, threading into his bones. He broke, gobbling sprucely, every instinct screaming to flee, but some unnoticeable tether embedded him in place. He knew that whatever awaited him outside would be worse than last night, worse than any agony, and yet he could n't stop. The house had claimed a part of him the moment he entered, and now it called him back, case, eternal, impregnable.