The Blood Contract
Chapter 100: The bunker

Chapter 100: The bunker

The air inside the house was cooler than Serena expected, touched with a faint trace of wood smoke and something older—dust, perhaps, or time. The hallway stretched narrow before opening into a cozy living room. The furniture was plain, the walls decorated with old photographs and faded wallpaper. There was nothing about the place that screamed "bunker"—nothing secretive or hidden. Just an ordinary country home.

But Serena’s attention snapped back when a figure stepped into view from the back room.

A woman, lean and sharp-eyed, held a flashlight in one hand and a blade in the other. Her hair was tied back in a severe ponytail, and her gaze narrowed immediately upon seeing them. Just behind her, a man followed—tall, wiry, and dressed in all black. He moved with fluidity, a gun already in his hand, held at the ready.

Serena froze, her heart lurching, but Darrell raised his hand calmly.

"It’s me," he said, voice steady. "Darrell."

The man’s face remained set in a permanent frown, though a faint, fleeting smile flickered across it when he recognized Darrell. Slowly, he lowered the gun, giving a slight nod.

"Didn’t expect you," the man muttered. "But I guess if you’re here, things must be messy."

"They are," Darrell said, walking in and extending a firm hand, which the man clasped briefly. "Boss Lucian sent us. He needs you to take Serena to the bunker."

Serena, who had been glancing around the house, took a few curious steps forward. The floral curtains, the small bookshelf with dusty covers, the faint scent of herbs in the air—it all felt like someone’s grandmother’s house, not a place of secrets.

"The bunker?" she asked, frowning as Darrell’s words reached her ears. "What other bunker are you talking about? I thought this house was it."

Darrell turned to her with a slight tilt of his head. "The house is just the cover. The bunker’s underneath."

Her eyebrows knitted tighter. "Okay, but... why are you telling him to take me there alone?" She crossed her arms, eyeing the man again. "What about you, Darrell?"

"I can’t go down with you," he said, his voice gentler now, but firm. "There’s no signal in the bunker—none. Once you’re in, there’s no way to communicate with the outside. Someone needs to stay topside and monitor what’s happening, get word to Lucian if anything changes."

Serena stared at him. "But—"

Before she could finish, a loud, urgent knock pounded against the door.

Every person in the room went rigid. The man instantly raised his gun again and moved toward the window, peeking through a narrow slit. The woman tensed as well, her grip tightening on the flashlight and blade.

Darrell turned to Serena, his tone urgent now. "You have to go, madam. Now. We’ll handle things over here."

The man gave a short nod to the woman beside him, and with only a glance, she understood. Without speaking, she moved to Serena’s side and motioned for her to follow.

Serena hesitated, her heart thudding painfully against her ribs. She looked to Darrell, eyes wide with unspoken fear. "Don’t do anything stupid," she said quickly.

Darrell gave her a small, reassuring smile. "Just go. I’ll catch up later."

The woman led the way through the house, past the kitchen and a narrow laundry room, into what looked like a pantry lined with shelves of canned goods and dry food. She moved swiftly but silently, not sparing Serena a word. Serena followed close behind, glancing over her shoulder even as the knocking at the front of the house grew louder, more forceful.

At the far end of the pantry, the woman stopped before a brick wall. It looked solid, unmoving. But with a swift movement, she flicked a lever hidden beneath one of the shelves.

The wall gave a soft groan and then shifted, sliding inward to reveal a narrow staircase leading down into darkness. Cool air rushed up from below, damp and musty. The woman pulled a torch from her belt, flicked it on, and stepped into the opening without a word.

Serena hesitated for only a second before stepping in behind her. The staircase descended steeply, carved from solid stone and reinforced with rusting metal handrails. The beam of the torchlight bobbed ahead of them, lighting the way.

When they had gone far enough that the house above seemed like a distant memory, the woman stopped and reached for another switch embedded into the stone wall. She flicked it, and behind them, the brick wall slid shut with a soft thunk, sealing them into the tunnel.

The silence that followed was complete.

Serena turned, looking up at where the wall had been. No seams. No sound. Just stone.

Serena bit her lower lip but said nothing. The torchlight cut through the darkness ahead of them, showing more stairs, more stone, and still no sign of the bunker itself. Her footsteps echoed faintly against the hard surfaces, blending with the soft tap of the woman’s boots.

Whatever waited for her at the bottom, she knew it was better than whatever, or whoever, had been knocking at that door.

The walk down the stone stairwell felt endless, but eventually, Serena and the woman came to another wall, a solid, imposing stretch of brick that seemed as unyielding as the one before. Serena glanced sideways at the woman, wondering if this was yet another dead end, but the woman didn’t hesitate. She moved to the right, running her fingers lightly over the surface before stopping at a single, slightly raised brick.

With a firm press and a subtle shift, she pushed the brick in.

A low rumble echoed through the corridor, and the wall shifted open slowly. But instead of another tunnel or staircase, it revealed a solid iron door embedded with a sleek, modern keypad. Unlike the rustic feel of the previous entrance, this one hummed with quiet technology. The woman leaned in and typed a sequence with deft fingers, her expression unreadable as she did.

A quiet click followed, and the iron door slid open smoothly.

Beyond it was darkness.

The woman didn’t speak. She simply stepped inside, torchlight in hand, and Serena followed close behind. As soon as they were through, the iron door shut behind them with a faint clunk, locking them inside.

Then the woman reached to the left wall, flipped a hidden switch, and the lights came on.

Soft, warm lighting gradually revealed the space around them, and Serena’s eyes widened.

The bunker didn’t look anything like what she had imagined.

Instead of cold cement and steel, she found herself standing in a beautifully designed, minimalist home. The walls were smooth and painted in deep, muted tones of grey and charcoal. The floors were a mix of dark wood and black polished tiles. Clean lines shaped the furniture, a low couch in jet black leather, a glass coffee table with chrome edges, and shelves filled with neatly arranged books.

It was simple, elegant, and dark. Every inch of it whispered Lucian.

He’d designed this place, no doubt. Every detail reflected his taste.

The woman turned to Serena at last. "Make yourself comfortable. I’ll bring some food down shortly."

Before Serena could speak, the woman was already walking back to the iron door. She input the password swiftly, and within moments, she was gone.

The silence that followed wrapped around Serena like a blanket.

She exhaled slowly, taking a moment to center herself. Then, with quiet curiosity, she began exploring.

There were two bedrooms, both furnished with dark-toned beds and minimalist wardrobes. One was clearly a master suite with a connected bathroom that held a full shower and bathtub. The second was slightly smaller but equally comfortable. She checked the bathrooms, three in total, all spotless, stocked, and cold in their stillness.

The kitchen was next. Sleek, quiet, almost sterile.

Serena ran her hand across the black marble counter, still trying to reconcile this space with the chaos they’d just fled. The outside world was on fire, and here she was, in a haven beneath it all.

Then she heard a sound. A soft mechanical hiss.

Her body tensed, and she whirled around, heart racing. The sound was coming from the direction opposite the entrance they’d taken. She stepped cautiously out of the kitchen, moving toward the far side of the bunker.

There, hidden in a darker corner of the wall, another keypad was blinking softly. A second entrance?

The wall had started to shift, and Serena’s heart beat faster. Her mind raced with possibilities. Was it Lucian? Was it not?

She stepped back instinctively, eyes fixed on the slowly opening door.

And then Lucian stepped in, drenched from head to toe.

Water dripped from his hair, soaked through his shirt, and trailed down his face. His boots squelched on the floor with every step.

Serena exhaled a shaky breath as her relief washed over her.

"Lucian," she breathed. "You’re—" she stared at him, her eyes widening. "You’re soaked. What happened?"

Serena moved toward him instinctively, but stopped a few feet away, unsure if she should.