Elias checked his watch as he entered the apartment building—8 PM, later than he'd planned. His backpack hung heavy with supplies, and the day's events weighed even heavier on his mind. From being arrested, to hours of research, to deals struck in hushed corners, Dunwich's Reach had already proven itself a town that demanded patience.
The streets here had eyes that followed you everywhere—cold and watchful, like sharks circling in murky water.
He was heading for the stairs when a familiar voice caught his attention. It came from the tailor shop beneath his apartment. Elias paused, then backtracked to investigate.
Through the doorway, he found Greaves leaning against the counter, surprisingly transformed. Gone was the weathered coat; in its place was a tailored suit that gave him an unexpected air of sophistication. Behind the counter stood a woman with rigid posture and hair more gray than black. Her hands moved steadily over fabric, but her attention kept drifting to the conversation.
"Well," Elias said from the doorway, "civilization is full of surprises if Greaves can dress this sharp."
Greaves turned, unsurprised by the interruption. "Civilized is a generous word for a place like the Reach."
Elias raised an eyebrow, studying the transformation. "Perhaps you're trying to impress someone? A lady you fancy?"
Greaves didn't reply. He simply watched Elias with quiet amusement, as if waiting for him to solve a puzzle.
After a moment, Elias narrowed his eyes. "Or are you perhaps headed to Beatrice Wren's gala this Friday?"
A chuckle escaped Greaves. "I knew you'd figure your way around the Reach." His expression darkened slightly. "But the blade cuts both ways. Be careful who you ask questions to in this town."
Elias studied him, weighing whether to pursue the thread. "So tell me—what delightful rumors have you heard about me?"
Greaves glanced toward the tailor, who suddenly became very interested in her thread and needles.
"A young man's been looking for you," he said quietly. "Searching for his sister." His eyes locked with Elias's. "Claims you took her."
The room fell silent.
"Maddie," Greaves added, letting the name hang in the air.
Elias let out a short laugh. "You win. That caught me off guard." He stepped forward. "What can you tell me about Maddie?"
"We don't talk about missing people," Greaves replied with a hint of irony. "Bad luck." He tilted his head toward the tailor. "Ask her."
The woman stiffened, clearly caught eavesdropping.
Elias noticed her reaction, his thoughts racing behind his eyes. He checked his watch again, patience waning.
"Enough games," he said. "Do you have anything useful?"
Greaves sighed, like someone denied their entertainment. "Maddie and Pike were close. Closer than cousins."
Elias considered what that might mean, then nodded. "Tomorrow evening. The Black Harpoon."
"Wouldn't miss it," Greaves replied.
---
Back in his apartment, Elias methodically unpacked his supplies. A torch with fresh batteries. Canned food that wouldn't spoil. A small crowbar that fit nicely in his hand. A pocket knife with a clean edge.
He changed deliberately—dark sweater, worn jeans, gloves, and running shoes that wouldn't make noise on hard surfaces.
The crowbar felt natural in his grip. He swung it gently, getting familiar with its weight and balance. The torch clicked on at his touch, then off again with another press.
Through his window, the lighthouse beam swept across the night in steady intervals. Elias watched it for a moment, thinking it was a perfect night for bad decisions.
He slipped out quietly, resolved to find answers.
---
The lighthouse stood tall against the night sky, its beam casting long shadows over the rocky shore. At its base waited a hooded figure, shoulders hunched against the coastal wind.
Elias approached and directed his torch at the man's face. The figure winced at the sudden light.
It was Jacko from The Black Harpoon, with his small glasses and yellowed teeth.
"Were you followed?" Jacko asked nervously.
Elias gave a cold smile. "If you were worried about being followed, then we wouldn't be meeting under a goddamn lighthouse, Jacko."
Jacko exhaled, his breath visible in the night air. "Are you ready?"
Elias nodded, glancing up at the full moon hanging in the sky. Its silver light illuminated the landscape—the cliffs, the churning water below, and the path ahead.
Without another word, Jacko turned and began picking his way along a narrow trail leading away from the lighthouse. Elias followed, heading toward Pike's old house—and whatever secrets it might hold.
---