Makoto held her breath as Ann, bathed in the afternoon sun, stood before the doors of the Madarame house. The sundress they'd… appropriated from Madarame's would-be victim didn't fully conceal Ann's armor- but Makoto hoped the red leather of Ann's arms would be seen as an undergarment. And Ann had managed to open the bodice of her chestplate enough to show the natural skin of her bust through the sundress. Hopefully, that would draw the eye of a man seeking young ladies, and distract from her limbs. At least long enough to get the doors open.

Ann raised an arm to knock at the estate's broad oak doors.

Makoto took in a deep breath and didn't let pressed her back against the wall of the house, keeping to the side and out of view of anyone who might open at Ann's knocking. Ren was next to Makoto, pressed against the wall between her and the door, his sword in hand. Beyond him, across the door, Makoto could see Ryuji pressed against the other wall, mimicking Ren in readiness.

Meanwhile, Yoshida, Ohya, and a rather distressed young woman, were safely away in the carriage- or so Makoto hoped. Yoshida had wanted to come with them, but Makoto had finally had to order him to take care of the carriage. And to take Ohya with him. The woman had wanted to come, too- but not to help: to watch, notepad in hand. So: no Ohya, either. It was as Makoto wanted it: Ren and her and the Sakamotos. The new team on their first hunt.

Hopefully, not their last hunt.

Ann raised her arm: Rap. Rap. Rap.

For a long moment, nothing happened. Ann stood still before the oak doors. The wind gusted past with a hint of ocean. Ann's eyes shot Makoto a worried glance.

"Say something!" hissed Ryuji.

Ann's eyes flicked to her brother, then back. Makoto realized Ann was looking to her to confirm Ryuji's idea. God! Was it a good idea? There really wasn't any time to think it over. And at the moment, with the situation in flux, Makoto's mind lacked information upon which to calculate; so in blank desperation for any idea at all, Makoto nodded Ann an affirmative.

"Mr. Madarame?" said Ann, her voice unnatural, high and sing-song. "Mr. Madarame, I've decided to accept your offer."

God. Was that Ann trying to act? She was not good at it. At all. Makoto was immediately sure her agreement to Ryuji's idea was a mistake. God. This was all a mistake. Makoto's mind began fantasizing about failure scenarios: which exit strategy would be best to deploy-?

Click!

The oaken doors of the Madarame house began to open.

It was happening! It was working! Makoto's escape plans evaporated. Her last-second worries of being found out, of being… sensed somehow by whatever might be inside the house: a cold ache in the gut which, at the click of the door's latch, transformed and sizzled up into her chest as an anxious excitement. It was happening! Makoto drew her father's hand-canon from its holster, keeping it ready against her thigh.

She was about to forcibly enter someone's estate on loose, unconfirmed suspicions that the owner was really a noble vampire in disguise.

God!

But as Makoto saw Ann's eyes lock onto whoever, or whatever, was opening the doors- there was nothing Makoto could do but to forget those doubts and proceed with the plan. She felt Ren's body brush against her left shoulder, he seemed to be settling onto the balls of his feet, preparing to move. He was not waiting for a command from her, though. Ren would move when he thought it best to move. That was the plan. The plan was in place. It was already in motion. There was nothing for Makoto to do now but do her part in the initial infiltration: bring up the rear, and be the eyes for distant threats while Ren and Ryuji handled anything that might be immediately at hand.

The oaken doors opened wider. Ann was staring at something inside the house, her expression changing from being worried to something else- something with a little bit of fear in it.

Ren moved. Ryuji moved an instant after. They shoved into the doorway and entered the house, cutting themselves from Makoto's line of sight. She waited the prescribed three seconds, and upon hearing no gunshots or shouts of alarm, she spun into the doorway. Gun up, but ready to lower onto any threat Makoto might find.

Afternoon light spilled into an atrium of dark wood. Ren was holding on to a person, but it was not Madarame. It was a pale young man, struggling uselessly against Ren's grip on his throat. Makoto made brief eye-contact with the young man's grey-blue eyes, but she wasn't interested in him at this instant- her eyes continued to scan the room.

Ryuji was standing near Ren, covering most of the empty atrium's ground floor with the business-end of his blunderbuss. So Makoto's eyes zipped past him and up along the dual stairway as it curved up to the second level balcony, all empty as far as Makoto could see in either direction. But It was dark inside the house, oddly dark for the middle of the day. There was still an opaque gloom in the far corners of the atrium. Dark places which might be walls, shadows, or passages to hallways and rooms deeper in the building.

People wouldn't keep their house this dark during the day. It was entirely unnatural. And the young man in Ren's grip was unnaturally calm, despite the hand at his throat. He was quiet. Wouldn't a person react more to armed men storming their front door? Wouldn't there be someone else to hear the commotion? An estate this large would have a rather large staff. Where were they? Where was the alarm? The house was quiet and still and dark.

This wasn't a house for people. And that thought actually brought Makoto a slight sense of relief. She wasn't raiding a random citizen's house, at least.

"Ann," said Makoto. "Prop the door."

"Yes," said Ann.

The atrium seemed secure. It was empty and the daylight pouring into the room was like the annexation of territory- no vampiric forces could trespass towards them, if such forces were to be found in this strangely dark house. Perhaps someone could shoot them from the darkness of some hallway or side-room, but there didn't seem to be anything to be done about that danger at the moment- except to move quickly. But the young man in Ren's grasp was an obvious source of information, so as Ann began dragging some sort of small table to use as a door prop, Makoto decided it would be best to see what tactical intelligence the captive might provide them.

"Ryuji, keep an eye on the hallways," said Makoto, turning her attention to their captive.

"Sure thing."

The young man in Ren's grasp was dressed simply in a white dress coat and black trousers, albeit the sleeves and pant-legs were both some inches too short- and the coat was unbuttoned at the top. It looked like the man had grown a bit since the clothes were made, or they were made for a different, smaller person. His face was slightly long: a broad forehead half-secluded by blue-black hair, a sharp but small nose, a definitively pointed chin. He seemed resigned to Ren's hand at his throat and was not struggling. Instead, his blue-grey eyes stared at Makoto with intensity- no, not at her, he was looking past her. Makoto glanced behind her to follow the man's gaze. Ann. He was staring at Ann, who was removing the borrowed sundress in an unintentionally provocative manner.

"Where is the master of the house?" said Makoto, stepping between the young man and Ann. His eyes didn't refocus. It was like he was looking through her and still seeing Ann.

"Master Madarame is…" mumbled the man.

"He's enthralled," said Ren. "He doesn't know much more than he's allowed to know."

"Enthralled!" Makoto felt excitement, relief, and no small amount of anxious dread. "So there is a vampire here!"

"Yes," said Ren.

So, was this some sort of involuntary butler? An enthralled human could be useful for a vampire hiding in high-society. Someone who could go out in daylight. Carry messages. Open doors in the middle of the day. All sorts of things.

"Can you break it?" said Makoto, "The enchantment?"

"Morgana is already working on it," said Ren. "He says it's been in place for a long time."

Makoto's eyes shifted to Ren's left hand, which was both Morgana's… (home?) and the hand Ren was using to hold their captive's throat. "How long has he been enthralled?"

"Years," said Ren. "Many years. Apparently, it's hard to unravel."

"Can I talk to him?"

"You can try, but the inside of his head is likely crowded."

Crowded? What did that mean? Well, it wasn't important right now. She took a step closer to their captive.

"Who are you? What is your name?"

The young man blinked slowly. His eyes blearily turning their attention to Makoto's face, as if surprised she was still there.

"Yusuke…" he mumbled.

Easy enough. They had a name, at least. "Okay, Yusuke. Do you know where your master is? Is he home?"

"Master is… master's home is…"

Makoto waited, but Yusuke's eyes glazed over again. Was that an answer, or was he just repeating her question? Perhaps there was another way to phrase it, but before Makoto could come up with a new form of the question, Yusuke closed his eyes and shuddered- practically vibrating from head to toe.

"It's broken," said Ren, cautiously releasing Yusuke's throat.

Yusuke didn't fall, but he teetered alarmingly for a moment. Then he opened his eyes, clear and free of the glaze of trance. He quickly looked at them all, an expression of confused wonder on his face. Then his eyes settled again on Ann, who had finished propping the doors with odd bits of furniture. Yusuke's wonder transformed into panic.

"Get out!" said Yusuke. "You have to get out! He will kill you!"

"He can try!" said Ryuji.

"Who will?" said Makoto, "Your master?"

"Yes!" said Yusuke. "Master Madarame! He's a demon!"

"Where is he?" said Ren.

Yusuke shook his head, his expression becoming manic. "You have to get out! Before he-..."

"It's okay," said Ann, stepping toward Yusuke, gaining his instant attention. She placed a hand on Yusuke's cheek, locking his eyes with her own. "It's okay. We know he's a monster. That's why we're here. To get him, and to free you."

Yusuke was calming. He almost seemed enthralled again. Makoto was eager to use the momentum.

"We're vampire hunters, Yusuke" said Makoto, gaining only a brief glance from Yusuke before he refocused on Ann. "Can you tell us where your master is? Where does he spend his time? What room?"

"Many places," said Yusuke. "The house is not still."

"What does-?"

errrrrrrRRRRRRRRT

Makoto spun towards the sound, her gun coming up to find a threat. But there was nothing there but the door of the estate, seemingly closing of its own accord. The furniture Ann had appropriated as doorstops was being shoved along the floor by the door's closing motion, making the alarming sound. Before Makoto or anyone could overcome the shock of witnessing the magically moving doors, they slammed shut with a resounding boom and darkness regained control of the atrium.

"You were supposed to prop the doors, Ann!" said Ryuji.

Makoto could still make out his silhouette in the darkness. She could see the vague outlines of everyone. The black was not total, as enough light leaked under and around the main doors to vaguely illuminate them all.

"I did!" said Ann.

"Quiet!" said Ren.

The Sakamoto's fell into a chagrined silence. For a long moment, that silence stretched. Makoto could only hear the soft pounding of her own blood in her ears, and the faint tense breath of Yusuke near at hand.

Ren's voice came out of the darkness: "Nothing. Light the lanterns."

There was a shuffling and fumbling of gear as Ryuji and Ann extricated a lantern from Ryuji's belt. There was a click and a flash of light, sparks flying from the flint briefly illuminated Ann's face, her eyes a brief blaze of blue. Darkness shrouded them again as the lantern didn't catch.

Makoto watched Ann's face appear and disappear in a few more clicks of metal and stone. She made a mental note to invest in a mechanical firestarter. They didn't work for very long, but it would be preferable to this. Though, Ann could also summon fire magically... but with her lack of control, Makoto appreciated Ann's decision not to attempt to fire-magic the wick attached to the small bomb of lantern oil her brother was carrying.

With a few more clicks, the lantern ignited. A dull, warm glow permeated the tense air about them. Ren stood with his back to them, his sword visible before him, his outline a dull greyness in the dim lantern light. Ann and Ryuji were looking at the lantern with relieved expressions, but as Ann lifted the lantern up above her head, their gazes swept out with Makoto's.

The light didn't quite reach the walls of the atrium, giving Makoto the sense of a sort of sinister largeness which hadn't been there before the doors had slammed shut. The two curving wooden staircases curved upward darkly, vanishing into the vagueness of the lantern-light fringe. Makoto looked around, her body tense, her jaw tight in anxious anticipation of some attack. But if some threat was coming, if some defender of Madarame's estate was responding to their intrusion, there didn't seem to be any evidence of it.

"Well," said Ryuji, breaking the silence, "What now? Shouldn't we just open the doors again?"

Makoto flinched against the sound of his voice. But again, nothing happened. The atrium continued to be dark and dubious and no threat appeared. Makoto lowered her gun and glanced towards Ren. He also had lowered his sword. He was looking in her direction, frowning. Ann looked vaguely worried.

"I doubt the doors will open easily now," said Ren. "But I can hammer them open."

His left hand reached for the engineer's hammer which now hung from his waist. Makoto was surprised he didn't walk lopsided with the weight of it on his hip, but apparently it was inconsequential to Ren's strength. And it was an idea. Makoto would prefer to have an escape route secured, rather than pushing ahead and leaving the doors closed and presumed locked. Plus, they had Yusuke to consider. Makoto would rather get him safely outside then drag him along with them, or abandon him to his own devices in Madarame's estate.

"This house is not still," said Yusuke, his soft voice eerie to Makoto's ear.

"I'm sure he's right," said Ren. "Defenders are probably moving into position. Right now."

Makoto considered. They were here for Madarame, but this Yusuke was an unexpected objective: a young human slave. How long had he been in Madarame's care? How long enthralled? He probably knew a great deal about god knows what, perhaps even beyond Madarame himself. Yusuke was an unexpected prize, not simply a rescued captive.

"Let's get Yusuke outside with the others," said Makoto, "Then we'll find Madarame."

"Yes," said Ren. He withdrew his hammer from his belt and strode for the big wooden doubles which had so recently slammed shut behind them. His steps echoed about the room. His dark cloak blending him into the dim walls almost immediately.

Ryuji quickly moved to follow, blunderbuss still in hand. He was two steps behind Ren, then suddenly rocked backward onto his heels and grabbed his forehead.

"Ow! What the-?!"

To Makoto, it looked like Ryuji had walked into a wall in the dark. Then, she realized she couldn't hear Ren's footsteps anymore. A sudden dread welled up in Makoto's stomach. Ann stepped after Ren's retreating back, coming close to where Ryuji stood now, rubbing his head. She reached out and Makoto saw her hand touch something solid in the dark. Press flat against the air as if there was a wall.

"It's kind of soft!" said Ann.

"Ren?!" said Makoto, stepping forward herself, pushing her own arms in front of her. They met something solid, something slightly soft, scratchy, a vague rough texture. Makoto recognized the feeling immediately. She'd often gotten into trouble as a child because she felt this texture: it was canvas! Canvas and dried oil paint! The feel of a painting.

As if it had suddenly solved the riddle, Makoto's mind deciphered the lie her eyes were telling her. That was not Ren's cloaked back, blurry in the gloom of too soft lantern light. It was the slightly blurred texture of an oil painting: an oil painting of Ren's cloaked back in a gloomy room.

"Makoto!" said Ann, pointing down.

Makoto's eyes followed Ann's indicating fingers. The vision of the atrium behind them ended abruptly with a wooden frame, then a small section of stone wall, and then the floor. Ann stepped back and held up her lantern. Makoto looked up and could see the other side of the painting's frame near the ceiling. It was a nearly wall sized canvas, and it was where the exit of the Madarame estate was supposed to be. Where it had been, only moments ago!

"How-!?" said Ryuji. "Where is Mr. Amamiya, then?!"

Makoto didn't have an answer. She pushed hard against the canvas, but it responded like canvas does. Slightly spongy under her hands, but not exactly solid either. It was like Ren had walked into the painting itself.

Makoto drew her sword and slashed at the painting, cutting a large line. She stuffed her hand into the gap and yanked, ripping a section of the painting out. Ann leaned in and shined the lantern onto a bare stone wall. There was nothing but old stone behind the painting. What was going on?! The atrium wasn't made of stone, but here was a stone wall.

Makoto turned to the only source of information she had. Yusuke stood quietly in the dark, frowning and slightly downcast. His shoulders slumped. His arms strangely stiff.

"Mr. Yusuke?!" said Makoto. "What is going on?!"

"The house is not still," said Yusuke, "It moves."