Moonlit Novella

Chapter Nine

As Ivy stepped into Mercer’s office, it was cozier than she would have expected. The overhead lights were off, leaving the room lit by pale sunlight streaming in through the windows, and the soft amber glow of a standing lamp by the filing cabinet.

The office felt lived-in. It was functional but personal, like he spent long nights here often. There was a worn leather chair sitting across from his desk, and a few green, leafy plants scattered throughout. A map of Ashford Hollow hung on the far wall, marked with faint red pins.

Mercer dropped a manila folder on the desk with a quiet thud.

“Here’s what we’ve got.”

Ivy settled into the chair across from him as he flipped the folder open. The top page bore the name Nathaniel Carr in crisp, blocky lettering. Forty-one. Historian. Lived alone above Briar & Vine Books on Lowe Street. Last seen two nights ago.

Mercer flipped to the second page, revealing a photo clipped to the report. It showed the alley behind the General Store. Blood pooled near the dumpster. The pavement was cracked, shadows stood looming at the edges.

“The clerk called us just before sunrise,” he said. “Didn’t look like much until he saw the coat nearby. Carr’s wallet was still in the pocket. We found a cross necklace too. The chain was broken.”

“No other sign of a struggle?” Ivy asked.

“Not really. No torn fabric. No overturned trash. Just blood. Like someone led him there, and something happened fast.”

He turned another page, revealing a witness statement.

“Neighbor said he’d been different lately. Not completely unhinged… more scared. Praying outside. Clutching that cross. Wouldn’t go anywhere after dark.”

Ivy leaned forward slightly. “Did he talk to anyone?”

Mercer nodded. “Told her he was being watched, that he heard them whispering at night.” He paused, scanning through the page, “She said he asked if she’d ever seen things in the glass.”

Ivy’s gaze flicked up. “What does that even mean?” She murmured more to herself than him.

“He said something was watching him from the trees,” Mercer added. “And that he couldn’t sleep without the lights on.”

She stilled.

This is starting to sound too familiar.

Her hand tightened slightly on her pen, but she didn’t say anything.

Mercer glanced up at her. Their eyes met for just a second, long enough for something unsaid to pass between them.

“Did he ever report anything officially?” she asked, quieter now.

“No. No threats. He just had this… creeping fear.”

Mercer leaned back, jaw tight.

“I’ve seen it before,” he said, “More than once.” his eyes locked on hers.

“But like this?” Ivy asked.

His eyes stayed on hers for another moment before glancing down to the folder. “Not this bad.”

The silence between them settled like mist.

Then Ivy closed her notebook. “Let’s go see his place.”

Mercer stood, grabbing the file and a set of keys from his desk drawer. “Forensics are finishing up now. We’ll walk through while it’s fresh.”

He opened the door, holding it as Ivy stepped into the softly lit hallway. The station behind them carried on in low tones.

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Downtown Ashford Hollow had the hush of a place still waking up.

A light drizzle clung to the air, misting the brick sidewalks and beading on the windows of the shops lining the street. Ivy followed Mercer around the side of Briar & Vine Books, where an old iron staircase led up to the back of the building. The steps creaked under their weight, slick with rain, and the scent of damp moss rose as they climbed up further.

A uniformed officer stood at the top, arms crossed, nodding as they approached. The door behind him hung open, the sound of low conversation and camera shutters drifting out.

“Wrap it up for now,” Mercer said without slowing.

The officer straightened. “Sure, Chief.”

Inside, the apartment was dim and narrow, ceiling low with slanted beams that made the space feel cramped. Forensic markers dotted the floors and tabletops, yellow numbered tents sat upon scattered papers, half-melted candles, a coat slung over a chair. A woman near the window snapped a final photo before lowering her camera and turning to pack her bag.

The team moved with precision, collecting samples and lifting bags into cases. Nobody questioned Mercer’s call, they simply cleared out, leaving behind a silence that settled like dust.

As the last pair of boots thudded down the stairs outside, Ivy stepped into the room fully, her gaze sweeping the space.

It didn’t feel like a home.

It felt like a place someone had tried to make safe and failed.

Crosses were tacked over every doorframe. It wasn’t decorative, it looked more defensive if anything. Saint icons perched on windowsills. Burnt incense sticks clustered in ash-filled bowls. A Bible lay open on the table beside a near-empty glass of water, the pages slightly curled from moisture.

“This wasn’t just faith,” Ivy murmured. “This was fear.”

Mercer didn’t answer. He moved past her into the bedroom.

Ivy followed slowly, eyes trailing along the bookshelf, lined with old theological texts: books on folklore, symbolism, and apocryphal scripture. Some had pages marked with scraps of paper and string, others sat half-open, like he hadn’t had time to finish.

The bedroom was small, the bed neatly made. A small lamp lit the corner. Mercer stood at the nightstand, holding something in his gloved hands.

He looked up when she stepped in.

“Found this.”

He passed it to her: a weathered prayer book, leather cover soft with wear. Inside, the handwriting changed tone quickly, starting neat and reverent before growing jagged, as if he’d been frantic writing the final entries.

Words filled the margins. Phrases repeated over and over.

“Father, protect me.”

“The evil one is near, they follow him.”

“He watches me through the water. Through the glass.”

The ink was darker near the end. Smeared.

Some lines were written over others: desperate, layered, as though Carr had run out of space and time.

Ivy’s chest tightened as she traced a finger over the final scrawl:

“If I go missing, it was all real.”

Behind her, Mercer shifted, his tone low. “I don’t think this was just a breakdown.”

“No,” Ivy said. “This feels like a warning.”

They stood in silence for a moment, the hum of rain outside was the only sound.

Then something in the hall caught Ivy’s eye. A closet door left slightly ajar.

“I’ll check the rest,” Mercer said, stepping toward the kitchen.

Ivy nodded, but her attention stayed fixed on that narrow crack in the door. At the end of the hallway, Ivy paused outside the closet. She reached forward, fingers brushing the edge, and eased it open.

A tall figure stood inside.

She jolted back with a sharp gasp; a small scream tearing from her throat before she could stop it.

Footsteps thundered behind her. Mercer was there in an instant.

“Ivy—what is it?”

She pressed herself against the wall, heart pounding. “I—I thought someone was in there.”

He stepped in front of her without hesitation, hand hovering near his sidearm as he looked into the closet.

There was only stillness.

It wasn’t a person.

It was a tall shape beneath a white sheet, slouched slightly forward, human-like in its silhouette. The light from the hallway caught on the fabric, giving it a faint, ghostly sheen.

Mercer’s stance shifted. Tension draining, slightly. “You good?”

Ivy let out a breath. “Yeah,” she said, letting out an anxious laugh. “Sorry. It just… it looked like someone standing there.”

Mercer glanced at her over his shoulder, then back at the shape. “Want to see what we’re dealing with?”

She gave a slight nod and stepped forward, catching the hem of the cloth between two fingers. The fabric was coarse and old, the kind used for drop cloths or storage covers.

She hesitated.

It reminded her of the mirror she’d found in her attic. It had the same height, same curve under the sheet, and gave her the same chill down her spine when she first saw it.

She pulled the sheet away.

Dust exploded into the air, catching the hallway light like pale smoke. Beneath it stood a mirror: tall, arched, its wooden frame carved with intricate designs worn smooth by time.

She stared at her own reflection.

It was still in the dim light.

The air in the closet felt colder now. Heavy. Like whatever had been hidden had been watching them first.

Mercer stepped beside her. “Bag it. It’s coming with us.”