‘Hey, honey. Damn, it has been a while since we chatted, and I am deeply sorry that I couldn’t return your calls.’ Rachel’s husband said over the phone. His breath was hasty as his cheap Android struggled to register his voice in the rain. ‘But I have good news! I have that promotion, and I have a strong lead on our story on that cult near Talbot. I promise that once this is done, I’ll take you to Tahiti and smother you in kisses and cuddles. See you soon, and I love you.’

  The last recording of her husband ended, a voice message Rachel got when she was busy during a meeting. It had been three months since he had disappeared without a trace. Vanished when he was uncovering a story about a cult located in the Welsh countryside. He was curious about them, wanting to know why the secluded cult had popped up and what they were doing. But when he tried to figure out what they were about, he was gone.

  Everyone was confused about his sudden disappearance. No one could figure out what had happened to him or if he was even alive. However, what hurt her the most was when the police told her that there was nothing they could do to find him. It was false. She hadn’t been a war journalist for 8 years just to be told nothing could be done. Her husband, her Henry, was out there and needed her help. He just needed someone to get to him and take him back home, and she knew the cult was involved somehow. They must have something to do with Henry.

  She was alone, desperate. She had to take action to find her husband. Finding his notes wasn’t hard, as her husband was detail-oriented and always liked to have a backup of his notes on his hard drive. What made her struggle was trying to understand the notes and pick up the pieces that he left off. Henry was a competent journalist on his own, but he always needed help with formatting and with having someone connect the dots that he might’ve overlooked.

  Normally, it would be difficult and unbearable to help someone, but Henry was different. He was kind and listened whenever people gave him any. Rachel loved that about him. He always respected her opinion and always liked to listen to her whenever she had something to say. Though that didn’t mean he always agreed with her.

  The last conversation they both had together was an argument. It was minor, she hated how he got a face tattoo of a rose and spent a lot of money on it. She hated it, but her beloved adored his tattoo because it was something he had always wanted as a child.

  Rachel hated herself when he didn’t return, regretting that the last things they said to each other were petty insults and grovelling, besides acts of affection. The first thing she promised to herself was to apologise to him.

  But he’s gone, his absence a wound Rachel couldn’t ignore anymore. From his notes and her understanding of how cults historically function in Wales. She managed to figure out the location where he might’ve gone. The place he vanished from the face of the Earth. A small mansion northeast of Port Talbot, isolated from anywhere and anyone.

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  Rachel could’ve reported to the police, but she doubted that they would do anything to help her find her husband. Three months missing also made her terrified of what could’ve happened to him, so she decided the best anyone could do was go there and try to find Henry herself and get him to safety. Nothing else mattered, not when she believed his life was on the line.

  Scared, she reached for her phone and played Henry’s voice message. Wanting to hear his loving voice one more time while she drove through the rain in the middle of the night. ‘Hey, honey. Damn…’ The recording played again, letting her calm her breath while she got closer to her destination. Even when bullets flew over her head and bombers rained down fire from the heavens, she was fearless. That time was different, as she had to go in alone into the depths of the unknown. To walk into the silent darkness that held her husband from her. She tried to put on a brave face, but there was no point in lying to herself. No one could hide that sort of fear.

  ‘…love you.’ The recording of Henry ended, followed by a loud click of her stereo’s radio.

  ‘I miss you,’ Rachel mumbled to herself as she ended the recording.

  Her hands trembled as the mansion came into view. But as she got closer, the more her heart raced. The front gate was bent and wide open, the window on the third floor was smashed open with some sort of black liquid pouring out of it, and the cars near the entrance were broken into and torn apart. There were no lights, but she could make out the damage the mansion had suffered.

  She parked her car in front of the mansion’s gate and immediately turned off the lights. She didn’t want to get anyone’s attention, if there was anyone in that mansion. Even though the place looked abandoned, Rachel reasoned that it might have clues or information about her missing husband. Though her gut told her to start the engine, drive off, and never look back. She had to do a bold thing and ignore her gut for the first time.

  Rachel reached for her ORDRO video recorder with a night vision mode and her torch in case she needed to use it. Before she could psyche herself up and get inside the building to find out what had happened and to see if her husband was still alive. She checked whether her camera was still operational and able to record.

  ‘Battery is full, picture is solid.’ She mumbled as she flicked through the settings, only to find that the only flaw was the date. 13th of February 2015. Only three days ahead. A minor and insignificant flaw, but something that bugged her. She needed to correct it before walking into the abyss, for that gave her some semblance of control.

  ‘Okay,’ Rachel whispered before getting out of the car. ‘It’s okay, Henry, I’m here.’