She hadn’t rested in ages, always busy being tormented, but whether due to sheer exhaustion or because she had slept so deeply the night before, she woke up not long after.
“…He’s not back yet?”
Silence met her question. Silas was still out. It made sense. The police station had summoned him, after all.
Not just anyone, but Silas Blackwood—the serial killer from The Devil’s House. They certainly wouldn't have brought him in for a minor offense.
A glance at the clock showed it was already 4 p.m. All she had eaten that day was breakfast, having completely missed lunch amidst their endless intimacy.
She decided to grab a light snack, assuming Silas would cook something delicious once he returned.
“What should I eat…”
Rachel hummed a faint tune as she descended the stairs. Was it really alright for her to be feeling this unbothered? Or rather, was this even considered "doing well"?
In her previous life, she had never once experienced intimacy, yet ever since transmigrating into The Devil’s House, not a single day had passed without it. And it wasn't just a casual occurrence either.
It was every single day, without fail. Was this not a house inhabited by a demon, but rather a dwelling for the literal incarnation of lust? Just as she was engaging in this rare train of logical thought, a sound broke the quiet.
Clatter.
At first, Rachel assumed she had misheard. But then came the distinct sound of footsteps. Thump, thump. Was Silas on the first floor instead of the second?
“When did you get back?”
The distant noise abruptly cut off at her voice. Had it been Silas, he would have called out, "Honey, are you awake?" or "I suppose I was too gentle with you earlier, wasn't I?"
An inexplicable sense of tension made her heart race. It suddenly dawned on her that this place was, in fact, the setting of a horror game.
“Ah, aaah. Guess not…?”
Attempting to act as nonchalant as possible, Rachel turned to head back up the stairs. Since escaping outside wasn't an option, she reasoned it was best to retreat to the bedroom—the space she knew best.
Unfortunately, according to Silas’s evaluation, Rachel’s acting skills were at a level "a three-year-old wouldn’t fall for." Moreover, she was barely dressed, merely wrapped in a hastily draped bedsheet, making proper movement difficult.
And perhaps because panic was setting in, her already clumsy body became even less cooperative.
She ascended each step cautiously. With every stride she took, she heard the unmistakable echo of a man’s footsteps below. They even quickened to match her frantic pace. The steady thump, thump of heavy steps suddenly escalated into an urgent, rapid rush—thump, thump, thump, thump.
“Kyyakk!”
Rachel’s shrill, terrified scream echoed through the mansion. Abandoning the bedsheet, she tried to sprint up the stairs. But before her foot could even reach the next step, a massive hand reached out from behind and clamped firmly over her mouth.
Terrified beyond measure, Rachel thrashing helplessly. She had truly never imagined she would meet her end at the hands of anyone other than Silas within the world of The Devil’s House.
She was completely unprepared—Silas had grown gentler lately, granting her a fragile sense of security.
“Wuuhn! Nhn! Uuuhhn!”
“Calm down! I’m with the police.”
The police? Rachel froze, her mind racing as she tilted her head back slightly. Through her tear-filled eyes, all she could discern was that he was a Black man.
“I’ll remove my hand if you promise not to scream.”
Rachel nodded frantically in response to his low voice. She had no choice. Even after releasing his grip, the man remained on high alert, prepared to cover her mouth again at a moment's notice.
However, as Rachel collapsed onto the stairs, gasping desperately for air, he slowly stepped back. He reached down to retrieve the fallen bedsheet and gently draped it back over her shoulders, having belatedly noticed the crimson marks patterning her skin—stark evidence of their passionate night.
“I’m Detective Derek Cole, NYPD.”
“The police…? Why are you here…?”
Derek briefly flashed his badge and police credentials before quickly tucking them away, concealing the fact that he belonged to the Homicide Division. But Rachel already knew precisely who he was.
Derek Cole was one of the police protagonists from The Devil’s House. His partner, Noah Cruz, was responsible for managing the evidence at the station—reviewing surveillance footage, analyzing phone records, and interrogating suspects, including Silas.
Derek Cole, on the other hand, was the detective tasked with gathering physical evidence directly from crime scenes and Silas’s mansion.
Her question—"Why are the police here?"—implicitly meant: "Why are you investigating here when I, the primary victim, am still alive?"
It meant the main storyline of the game had officially begun. She couldn't help but feel completely bewildered. When on earth had Silas, who had been tangled up with her all day, found the time to go out and commit a murder?
“That….”
Derek was equally taken aback. Silas Blackwood was currently being interrogated as a key person of interest in the murder of Ella Cates in Central Park. Though officially classified as questioning, the precinct was nearly certain of his guilt after securing a credible tip from an anonymous informant.
According to official public records, Silas was a single man living alone with no surviving family, leading them to assume the residence would be entirely unoccupied during his interrogation.
While executing an unauthorized search was highly illegal, the anonymous tipster had been so adamantly convinced that another homicide was imminent that they chose to take the risk.
'And yet, someone is actually here.'
A department psychiatrist had formally evaluated Silas Blackwood as a psychopath, adding the assessment that he likely possessed sociopathic traits as well.
Consequently, the detectives assumed he lived in complete isolation. Finding a live-in partner inside the residence was an absolute shock. Wait... haven't I seen her face somewhere before...?
“Eileen?”
“What?”
“Aren’t you Eileen—the woman who went missing a few weeks ago? What was your last name again…?”