Chapter 3 : 154 Hollow Lane

*Gewn’s POV*

As I headed toward 154 Hollow Lane, the house where Darick lived, I felt a wave of excitement and thrill overtaking me.

This was it!

My mind was consumed by the fact that I was getting ready to capture the story of the year. My determination to prove my worth to Mr. Jeffers was unshakable, and I was certain that my phone would be ringing off the hook with offers pouring in from various news outlets across the globe once this story was released.

As the sun started to dip below the horizon, I knew I had to pick up the pace if I wanted to wrap up my work before nightfall. I was almost at my destination, just a mere five minutes away, when my phone began to buzz. I took a quick glance at the missed call while waiting at a red light.

Chelsea's number was on the screen, and I knew she was calling to check on me. I tapped the ignore button and shoved my cell phone back into my pant pocket. I wanted to tell Chelsea about my plans, but I knew she would talk me out of it if I shared what I was about to do.

She would also disapprove of such a dangerous activity. Besides, I was used to working alone and preferred it that way. I had partners in the past, and in most cases, things didn't work out so well.

As I made my way toward Darick's location, the reports of gang rivalries consumed my mind, and I couldn't help but replay the information I had gathered so far. It appeared that the Blood Brothers and the Blood Kings were currently engaged in a new war, each trying to expand their territories. The Blood Brothers had recently acquired three blocks of territory in the upper east side of Brooklyn, but the Blood Kings had already established their dominance in the area.

A smart journalist could easily see that the real estate owner played both parties, and I had hoped to talk to him, but he was found executed a week before I found his address. I was certain one of the two feuding mafias had gangs that committed the crime.

I attempted to speak with the lead police investigator about the case, but he informed me that the case had been closed and hung up the phone. I later found out that one of these mafia gangs had connections within the police department and paid off a few cops. I couldn't believe the number of twists and turns this story had to it.

As I approached the house, my phone vibrated again. I quickly retrieved it from my pant pocket and checked the message.

Chelsea: Gwen, where are you? How come you didn't let me know you aren't feeling well? Do you need me to bring you some soup or Gaterorade?

Keeping this information from Chelsea was a challenge, considering the depth of our friendship and shared experiences.

As I read the message, I felt the urge to reply. However, I knew that Chelsea had a way of getting me to reveal information and convince me to give up what could be the year's biggest story. Especially when I was already close to Darick's location.

I placed my phone into my pocket and continued driving. As I approached the house, an eerie feeling washed over me. There sat Darick's house. It was the last one on the corner of the street. Black curtains covered the windows and rusty white panels and splintered beams indicated that the home hadn't been cared for in ages.

'How could anyone be content with such a site?' I thought to myself.

I drove past the house and decided to park my car on the side of the street about half a block away from Darick's home. I figured since there were people out walking, I would blend right in, and no one would suspect anything, especially since I was wearing my black leggings and running shoes.

Though my pink shirt with a rhinestone bear in the center certainly screamed, “Hey, look at me!" I still figured I would be ok.

Upon arriving at my destination, I made sure to park my car in a safe spot. As a journalist, my trusty video camera was an essential tool that I always carried with me. My love for video cameras was evident from my extensive collection, and I had recently acquired this particular one. Its features were impressive, including a night vision vlogging camera and 18x digital zoom capabilities.

As I took it out of my bag, I couldn't help but run my hand over its sleek silver frame and admire its design. Before I began recording, I made sure my phone was fully charged and ready to assist me in my mission. My goal was to gather footage of the notorious mafia lord's home, and I was excited to test out my new camera and its features.

I confidently strode down the bustling sidewalk, my head held high, acknowledging joggers with a nod of assurance. I carried my video camera securely enclosed in a sleek, black leather bag, which blended seamlessly with my attire. I had one destination in mind and nothing would hinder me from reaching it now.

I crossed the street and approached the house.

Upon arrival, I noticed the absence of any cars parked in the driveway and concluded that no one was home. I swiftly dismissed the idea of attempting to enter through the front door. Instead, my eyes scoured the area for an alternative point of entry. After a quick search, I discovered an open window at the back of the house. Without hesitation, I climbed through the window, determined to let nothing stop me.

I placed my video camera on the ground and slid the window up higher with a bit of force so I could fit in. I was petite size, weighing one hundred and forty pounds, and standing at five foot five inches, but I wanted to make sure I didn't get stuck in the window.

I grabbed my camcorder and crept through the window and into the house. I then reached into my pocket, grabbed my phone, and flashed the light from it to survey the room.

'Damn. If I didn't know any better, I'd think this was a haunted house,' I thought silently.

The room looked as if it hadn't been cleaned in years. Dust filled the air, and cobwebs covered the walls. I could barely breathe as the air was thick and smelled of mildew and old wood. An icy chill curled through the hairs on the back of my neck, making its way down my spine. I cringed at each creak on the old warped floor, but it didn't sway my determination to get as much footage as possible of this place.

I was careful to watch where I walked and what I touched, for if a spider crawled on me, I'd alarm the whole neighborhood, and I still wasn't sure if Darick was home.

I turned on my camera and began to tape the various items around the room.

What was this?

I used the light from my phone to examine an old wooden table that had a dirty envelope on it. Upon picking up the envelope, I read the address, which turned out to be for a Goodfellas Collector's envelope addressed to Henry Hill at the Bamboo Lounge in 1968.

‘That's odd,’ I thought, setting the envelope back on the table and continuing my recording.

While surveying my surroundings, my gaze landed on an aged black picture frame adorning the wall. Inquisitive by nature, I approached it and examined the contents within. Upon closer inspection, I noticed a dining room tablecloth with an intriguing inscription that read ‘Al Capone Dining Room Tablecloth Authentic Relic Swatch Mobster Mafia’.

The authenticity of this relic piqued my interest even further, and I couldn't help but wonder about its fascinating story.

As I cautiously took a step forward, my foot made a faint sliding sound on the ground. Curiosity piqued, I bent down and reached for what appeared to be a certificate. Upon closer inspection, it was laminated and bore the words ‘Al Capone Hair Strand Lock Relic’ in bold letters. What? I didn't see any strand of hair. I lifted my thumb and gasped, throwing the certificate on the floor upon realizing my thumb was on the strand of hair.

Oh no! This room was filled with mafia memorabilia. I needed to get the hell out of here immediately. As I stepped back, I tripped over a sharp object and fell to the ground, injuring my right hand. Checking my surroundings, I realized that I had stumbled over a broken chandelier infested with spiders.

"Ouch! Dammit."

I winced in pain and shone the light from my phone on my hand and panicked, watching the blood run down my middle finger. I frantically looked around the room, hoping to find something to stop the bleeding, when I heard footsteps approaching.

'Shit!' I thought silently. Maybe this wasn't a good idea after all.

My heart raced as I tiptoed across the room, desperately looking for a place to hide when I noticed what looked like large items under dirty white sheets. I ran toward the sheets and hid under them as the footsteps approached.

I quickly turned my phone off so no light would reflect in the room and covered my mouth, forgetting that I had cut my hand until I could taste the blood from it in my mouth.

"Hey, has anyone been in the storage room?" a raspy voice shouted.

"No. Why?” another man responded.

"The lock isn't broken, but I could have sworn I heard something shatter in the room."

I gasped and held my breath for what seemed like an eternity.

"Maybe a rat knocked something over. Besides, it's nothing in that room but old relics and maybe a few ghosts," a voice laughed in the background.

Finally, I heard footsteps walking in the opposite direction and knew I had overstayed my welcome. I pulled the sheet off the large items to wipe the blood from my hand when I noticed a large vintage lamp and an old dusty black sofa.

The sun had now set, and I could feel a cold, damp breeze in the room. The shutters outside the window began to slam against the house, and the scratch of tree branches scraping at the windows.

I felt a puff of breath on the back of my neck, causing me to jump with fear. I didn't know if I was hallucinating or if there were actual ghosts in this room, but I wasn't staying to find out. I grabbed my video camera and raced toward the door when a scream yelled out in anguish.

What the hell was that?