There had been too many nights like this, Stephen Rimbauer thought when he woke up and squinted at the early-afternoon sunlight. Too many nights of booze, cheap take-away, and crying until his eyes ached, drinking until he passed out and dreamt of blue eyes and a rumbling laugh. Too many nightmares of never-ending corridors, the sound of a hammer striking wood, and his own voice desperately wailing the same name over and over, searching with increasing desperation for what he had lost.

Rose Red haunted him, day and night, and it just became worse the closer they got to the demolition. He could not stop thinking about what had happened over Memorial Weekend: how he had met the love of his life, the hero of his dreams, the man that had haunted him since he was eight and started dreaming of blue eyes, and lost him in the span of two days. Lost Nick to the house that tormented his nightmares. Lost him to the darkness, to the evil that lurked in that building. But Stephen made a decision, as he stumbled towards the bathroom, that he had had enough. He was going to go back to that hellhole, and he would tear down every wall if he needed to. He would rip the place apart, nail by nail and board by board, until he found Nick. Because he was still there. He had to be. If he wasn't, Stephen was going to have to live the rest of his life without him and that was unthinkable.

Rose Red loomed towards the sky like an old gothic castle in a bad horror-flick, which Stephen thought was a rather accurate description. He stood in the driveway, just inside the gates, and huddled against an icy wind that seemed to come from nowhere yet chilled him down to the bone. In hindsight, going alone and without telling anyone where he was heading was probably not the best idea he had ever had, but he simply could not risk anyone trying to talk him out of this mad scheme. He simply had to go back: his heart ached too much, his soul despaired too much to stay away any longer. And in two days, the demolition crew would arrive. He had two days to find Nick. He walked slowly towards the house, like a rabbit knowing full well it's walking into the jaws of the wolf. He stopped in front of the heavy entrance door, suddenly wanting nothing more than to run as far away as he possibly could. But then he thought of Nick. Thought of how it had felt to be in his arms, taste his lips, hear his name being spoken by that voice. How quickly he had fallen in love, once he finally met the right person! He shivered slightly as he remembered how exhilarated he had felt to sneak out of the bedroom he shared with Joyce to see Nick, and the ecstasy of being intimate with him. If he ever wanted to know Nick's touch again, he had to enter his own worst nightmare.

But first, there was something he needed to do. He wandered around the grounds slowly, imagining that once upon a time there had been two children playing there. Now the gardens lay overgrown with dead greenery, weedy and worn, cracked pavements and dead twigs and brambles in a never-ending chaotic bundle. He walked slowly, trying to shake the feeling of being watched, now and then adjusting the straps of the pack he was carrying. He would have only one chance at doing this, and he would do it. He would get Nick back from the clutches of the evil powers within these grounds; he would save his love, come hell or high water.

After having circled the grounds (which took the better part of two hours), he found himself back in front of the main entrance door. He stood on the steps for several minutes before he could force himself to open it and step inside. The warm evening outside was immediately replaced by the chilly, dusty air of Rose Red's foyer, but so far he could hear no sound. He stepped inside and the door closed behind him with a click that seemed almost satisfied. He shivered with fear, but then he remembered how Nick had taken his face in his hands and asked what it was that frightened him, just after their arrival. He remembered the warmth in those wonderful hands, how the touch had made him tremble and barely hear the question, lost in the feeling of Nick's hands on his skin. The memory made him tremble too, but this time with longing. He stood for several moments in the foyer and wondered where to start searching. The Hall of Dimensions? The Kitchen? The room they had slept in? The hall they had danced and eaten in? The mirror library? The sitting room they had come together for an illicit tryst that had turned into a night of passion?

"Where are you my love?" He asked aloud, but the only reply he received was the silence.

Stephen began his search in the kitchen, which was completely deserted and quiet. He remembered that morning, how Nick had looked at him while making eggs, the secret smile they had shared as they toasted in champagne. It had been a toast to the love they had just discovered, the love that they had spent the night affirming over and over again. He remembered how it had felt to stand there and eat eggs, chatting to the others, acting like it was a normal morning while he could feel a trickle of semen leak from his well-used asshole. How his stomach had fluttered right before... His mind shied away from the tragedy that had occurred, focusing instead on running his hand over the surface of the counter. Nick had sat right here, and Stephen fancied he could still feel the warmth of his body under his hand. He was so lost in his memory he did not notice the pantry door creaking as it opened, just a fraction, just enough for someone to watch him.