The Housewarming Visitor

I as unpacking in my new house, sorting through the endless stacks of boxes scattered around the living room. Outside, the sun had dipped below the horizon, leaving only a faint orange glow to seep in through the windows. The silence was comforting, yet strange; it was the kind of quiet that felt like it was waiting.

Just as I turned to head back to the kitchen, a soft thud echoed from somewhere deeper in the house. I paused, frowning. The boxes hadn't been stacked that high. Another sound—a gentle scrape, like nails on wood—came from the direction of the hallway.

Feeling my pulse quicken, I grabbed the closest thing that looked remotely useful—a sturdy candleholder—and edged toward the noise. The hallway was dark, but a faint light glowed from the farthest corner. My hand gripped the candleholder as I moved forward, trying to keep my breathing steady.

Then, without warning, the light in the corner flickered, casting long, dancing shadows across the walls. A figure stepped into view—a tall man, impeccably dressed, with a pale, sharp-featured face. He regarded me with an amused smile, his eyes glinting in the dim light.

"You must be the new resident," he said, voice smooth as silk. "I thought I’d welcome you properly."

His gaze slid to the candleholder clutched in my hand. I held it tighter, unable to take my eyes off the unsettling gleam in his.

"Funny," I said, forcing a calm tone. "The welcome committees around here are more... involved than I expected."

The man chuckled, his teeth flashing in the faint light. And there, amid his teeth, were two razor-sharp fangs.

"Well," he replied, "the neighborhood likes to make an impression. And I find it rude to let my future... associates go unannounced."

"How considerate," I replied coolly, as I let my fingers trail a subtle pattern in the air. Sparks flared at my fingertips, weaving together into a shimmering blue dagger that hovered in my hand.

The man’s smile widened, but his expression remained amused. "Ah," he said softly, "a bit of sorcery, is it?"

I met his gaze, feeling the magic crackle in my grip. "Just a little trick I picked up in my travels."

He stepped forward, moving gracefully, his own hand hovering near a silver brooch pinned to his collar, eyes flashing with something ancient and dangerous.

"Let’s hope you stay a while," he murmured, and with a sweeping bow, he vanished, leaving only the faint scent of smoke in the air.

I remained there, candleholder in one hand and dagger in the other, wondering just what kind of welcome I'd truly received.