Читати книгу - "Secrets of the Ancient Estate, Kyuriym"

Sam felt his pulse quicken. “Sacrifices?”

“Yes,” Father Thomas continued, his voice barely above a whisper. “Every generation, someone had to die to fulfill the terms of the pact. And if the blood debt wasn’t paid, the family would be cursed.”

Sam’s mind raced. This was it—the missing piece of the puzzle. The phrase on the crumpled paper, the references to blood in the journal, the strange deaths and disappearances—they were all part of the same twisted cycle, a curse that had haunted the Colton family for generations.

“And you think that’s what’s happening now?” Sam asked. “You think the curse is real?”

Father Thomas hesitated for a long moment before nodding. “I do. And I think Lord Andrew knew about it, too. That’s why he disappeared.”

“Why didn’t you come forward with this information earlier?” Sam demanded, his frustration bubbling to the surface. “People are dying, Father. You could have helped prevent this.”

The priest lowered his gaze, shame flickering in his eyes. “I didn’t believe it myself—not at first. But then... strange things started happening. People began to die, and I couldn’t explain it. I’ve been praying for guidance, Detective. But I fear my prayers may not be enough.”

Sam stood, his jaw clenched. He didn’t have time for guilt or prayers—he needed answers, and he needed them fast. If the curse was real, and if it demanded more blood, then more people were in danger. And with the blood moon just days away, Sam knew that time was running out.

Back at the estate, tensions were running high. Sam could feel it in the air, a thick, suffocating tension that seemed to hang over everyone. Doyle was jumpy, his hands shaking every time Sam spoke to him. Alice, Lord Andrew’s cousin, had locked herself in her room and refused to come out, her face pale and drawn when Sam had tried to speak with her earlier.

Even Sam, who prided himself on staying calm under pressure, felt the weight of the investigation bearing down on him. The village was on edge, the estate staff terrified, and now, with a second body on his hands, the situation was spiraling out of control.

He sat at his desk, staring down at the crumpled piece of paper from Mrs. Taylor’s murder. Blood must be paid. The words echoed in his mind, and with them came a creeping realization—Mrs. Taylor hadn’t been the first victim. And she wouldn’t be the last.

Sam stood abruptly, pacing the length of his room. There had to be something he was missing, some clue that could help him piece together what was happening. He thought back to the photograph he had found in the hidden chamber—the one of Lord Andrew and the others, taken during what appeared to be a secret ritual.

What if the others in that photograph were still alive? What if they were part of the same group that had made the pact generations ago?

Sam grabbed the photograph from his desk and examined it again, his eyes scanning the faces of the people standing beside Lord Andrew. There were four of them—three men and one woman, all dressed in dark clothing. Their faces were partially obscured by the shadows, but Sam could make out enough detail to recognize them.

One of the men looked familiar. Sam couldn’t place him at first, but as he studied the photograph more closely, a name clicked into place—Graham Pritchard, one of Lord Andrew’s closest friends, and a frequent visitor to the estate.

Pritchard lived just outside the village, in a small cottage near the edge of the forest. If anyone knew what had happened to Lord Andrew—and if anyone was involved in the murders—Pritchard would be the one to talk to.

Sam didn’t waste any time. He grabbed his coat and headed for the door, his mind racing with questions. He had to find Pritchard before it was too late—before more blood was spilled, and before the curse claimed its next victim.

As he stepped outside into the cold night air, the wind howling through the trees, Sam couldn’t shake the feeling that he was being watched. The estate loomed behind him, dark and foreboding, and somewhere in the distance, a dog howled.

Time was running out, and Sam knew that the blood moon was rising—along with the darkness that had haunted the Colton family for centuries.

End of Chapter 5.

Chapter 6: Unraveling the Web

The cold wind cut through Sam’s coat as he walked along the narrow, winding path that led from the estate to Graham Pritchard’s cottage. The moon was high in the sky, casting long, twisted shadows through the trees that lined the path. The night felt heavier than usual, laden with a tension that gnawed at Sam’s nerves. He couldn’t shake the feeling that he was being followed.

The events of the past few days weighed heavily on his mind: Mrs. Taylor’s murder, Lord Andrew’s disappearance, and the cryptic clues he had uncovered about the Colton family’s curse. Now, with the blood moon only days away, Sam knew that time was running out. He had to get to the bottom of this mystery, and Graham Pritchard was the next piece of the puzzle.