(Jenna's POV)

*This chapter contains words that appear misspelled for the sake of pronunciation. In other words, I typed it how Jenna would hear it. These are not typos!

What was supposed to be a 12 hour flight...turned into a 20 hour flight thanks to me not taking the time difference into consideration.

I departed from the Fort Wayne airport yesterday, which was Saturday, at 1:30 pm, and finally arrived at Chișinău International Airport in Moldova today...Sunday...at 4:30 pm, due to having two stops – one in Detroit, and the other in Frankfurt, Germany.

Despite the luxurious accommodations in first-class, it was long, confusing, and exhausting.

The first half of the flight wasn't so bad. Taking off and landing though...that's certainly a feeling I didn't like...and still don't. You can add turbulence to that list too.

I was served some kind of frou-frou meals and drinks – I have no idea what half of them were. Some of it was good, but overall, a bit rich, for my tastes.

I had to remind myself to put the fancy, white cloth napkin across my lap and use my manners...

I looked out the window, for a while, and then watched a movie afterwards, barely paying attention to it as my mind aimlessly wandered, anxious about what awaited me in Moldova.

Then I worked a crossword puzzle, trying to burn off my nervous energy, before turning to reading.

As my lids began to droop, the stewardess helped me prepare what she called a pod to sleep in which was pretty darn comfortable.

After getting off of the plane, I was hit with surprise baggage fees...again...that I didn't have the money for. I was nearly in tears when a man walked up and said that they had already been taken care of by Mr. Rykov. I couldn't help but notice their eyes widen at his name, either in fear or respect...I couldn't really tell. When they turned their attention back to me, their eyes were suspicious, but they didn't ask me anything.

After that debacle, I headed through customs which wasn't too difficult, although having to deal with the native people here was extremely frustrating because most either didn't speak English, or if they did, their accents were so heavy that it was hard to understand them.

It's nearly 5:00 pm now, as I head for the luggage carousel with a long, tired sigh.

But before I reach the carousel, I notice an older man, dressed in a very formal yet old fashioned looking gray suit and hat, with what look like riding boots, holding a sign with my name on it.

"That's me," I tell him, hoping that he speaks English.

"Velcome to Moldova, Miz Dawes," he greets with a thick Russian accent; his W's sounding like V's. "I am Anton, and I am here to take you to Master Rykov," he finishes with a slight bow which is a bit unnerving.

Master?

"Uh...thank you," I reply quietly before holding my finger up in a wait a minute gesture before turning my head towards the carousel.

I see my two bags coming down the conveyor and head over to get them.

But before I can lift them, he says, "Allow me," from behind before gently cutting in front of me and picking them up.

"Zis vay, miz," he says before walking towards the main entrance while slinging my bag over his shoulder.

I follow behind, a bit bewildered, my nerves starting to kick in big time.

We exit out of the electronic sliding doors and parked right in front is a very fancy, old, black and gray car that looks like it came right out of a museum. If I had to guess, I'd say it looks like a Rolls Royce or Bentley from the 20's or 30's.

It looks extremely out of place amongst the beat up taxis and even the newer Mercedes, causing people to stare in wonder at it.

He quickly opens the rear door, revealing the plush, pristine interior, which I carefully slide in on before he closes the door.

I can't help but notice a wonderfully masculine smell as he places my bags in the trunk before we take off.

The car ride is as smooth as butter as we drive through Chișinău, which is the capital. I can't read any of the signs though, as they are all in Russian or Romanian.

I'm going to have to learn the language here quickly...

It appears to be a rather large city with a striking mix of both medieval and new, modern looking buildings and homes.

We head out of the city, into the countryside, which is very green and lush, looking completely unspoiled.

We drive through some small villages that appear as if time forgot them, passing a few people on horses or in wagons.

The further we go, the hillier and more rugged it gets, taking my breath away as we pass a beautiful waterfall, farms, several vineyards, and idyllic pastures full of sheep.

As we climb higher, the thicker the forest gets, looking like a sea of emerald green as far as you can see with boulders sprinkled here and there on the sides of the narrowing and winding road.

It's just about dusk as we begin to slow down.

"Zhere's your new home, Miz Jenna," Anton finally speaks, pointing across a deep valley and river at the biggest castle I've ever seen.

I gasp audibly at the wonder before me.

It sits atop a massive hill, surrounded by forest, out in the middle of nowhere, looking imposing even amongst the mountains.

It's absolutely gorgeous with all of its turrets and long, fairy tale looking stone bridge...but it also has a heavy, haunting gloom about it, especially in the fading sunlight that sends a chill down my spine.

I swallow nervously, hoping it isn't a sign of foreboding.

"Master Rykov comes from zan old aristocratic family," Anton comments, jolting me from my dark thoughts.

That means royalty, doesn't it...?

We head down a long winding road where the land seems more flat and approach a large structure that looks like a smaller version of the castle, with a huge iron gate in the middle of it and a fancy stone fence on both sides, as far as the eye can see.

Whoa...this must be the gatehouse that I'll be staying at. It looks as if my old house could fit in there several times.

I can't believe this is all mine.

Anton stops the car in front of the massive gates that have a fancy "R" in the middle with what looks like a spider web design, unlocks and unwraps a huge chain that's securing it, and then pushes it open with a loud, eerie creak, before driving the car through the gates.

He gets back out and attaches the chain around them again before latching the padlock once more with a loud, ominous click.

I'm locked in here now...

I try not to let that fact bother me.

He opens my door and offers his hand to help me out – a first for me, before he opens the large wooden door to the gatehouse.

"After you, miz," he holds his arm out. I walk in and once again, am blown away by the beauty of it.

Everything looks extremely old and formal, yet comfy somehow at the same time.

It's very clean despite looking as if no one has lived here for a long time.

"Zee master had everyzhing cleaned before your arrival," Anton says, as if answering my thoughts.

I nod as I wander around, taking everything in from the old stone and wood floors to the antique furnishings.

As I pass the windows on the back side of the house that faces the castle, I see that it's quite far off in the distance, mostly hidden by trees, but still looks massive.

I make my way into the rustic kitchen. Beautiful, old tiles cover the walls, and below an arched recess is a massive, black, antique stove.

The refrigerator is very old as well, but kind of neat looking.

The counter tops are thick butcher block and the large, old sink is copper.

As I turn to make my way back into the living room, I notice an old industrial looking telephone hanging on the wall with Russian writing on it, but thankfully, the numbers aren't in Russian as well.

Does this thing still work?

"Zee number to zee castle is on zee table, should you need anyzhing," Anton says from behind, scaring me. "Sorry, miz," he says guiltily.

"No...it's okay," I reply with a small smile, holding my hand to my chest as my heart begins to slow.

"Master had zee kitchen stocked vith zee essentials to get you started. I can take you into town whenever you'd like, and you can visit zee market zhen," he smiles. "I carried your bags upstairs to zee bedroom, and before I forget, here's zee key to zee front door," he says as he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a large, but slightly worn, fancy, gold skeleton key with an "R" and a crown on it, and then hands it to me. "Zee electricity can haz a mind of its own sometimes out here, but zhere are plenty of candles and matches in zee larder, over there," he points to an old wooden door.

"Thank you," I smile gratefully.

"You're velcome," he grins. "If you don't require anyzhing else of me, I vill take my leave now," he tells me with a slight bow.

God...I'm not used to such manners.

"No, I'm good," I nod awkwardly.

"Good evening zhen, Miz Jenna," he bids adieu. "Call, if you need anyzhing," he says as he turns and walks out of the door.

I sigh as my body sags in relief. Finally...some peace!

I continue looking around, taking in the beamed ceilings, the fireplaces, and artwork on the walls.

I notice a Victrola over in the corner that I didn't before, as well as an old wooden radio. I haven't seen a T.V. yet, so I guess these are better than nothing, as long as they work.

I head into what appears to be a spare room, and am shocked to see my mother's sewing machine sitting on a large wooden desk with a comfortable looking chair. 

Someone must've unpacked my things...

I notice the new cord on it and it dawns on me that the electrical outlets are different here than in America, so had this new cord not been installed, it wouldn't have worked.

This means that I won't be able to plug in my cellphone until I get a new cord for it...

Shit!

I hope they sell them in town, and that they aren't too expensive.

I turn my phone on, take it off airplane mode, and see that I have almost 30 texts and about a dozen missed calls from Aimee.

Double shit!

Her last text reads, "Where the HELL r u?! I'm getting ready 2 call the FBI, CIA...sum 1! 4 all I know, ur organs could be 4 sale right now on the Russian black market!" 😱😭💔

Jesus, Aimee! Drama much...

I send her a quick text, apologizing for causing her to worry, but that I just got in, and that I need to conserve my battery until I can get a new cord.

I hit send, but the little Wi-Fi icon up top just hopelessly spins and I have no bars.

After a few minutes, it says, "Not delivered" in red.

Fuck!

I wonder if I could use that old phone in the kitchen...

I'll gladly pay Mr. Rykov for the long distance charges, if it keeps Aimee from doing something stupid, like calling the authorities.

God...I truly hope she hasn't yet!

I run back to the kitchen and pick the ancient receiver up. It's shiny, made of metal, and heavy. It has a strange dial tone, but at least it works.

I know I have to dial the calling code for America first, so here goes...

It's a rotary style phone, so dialing this long number is frustrating, but finally, I hear a series of clicks followed by strange repeating buzzing sounds.

Aimee answers with a timid hello as static fills the line.

"Aimee...it's me," I announce over the static.

"Jenna! Oh my God!" she yells relieved. "Where are you? Are you okay? Whose phone number is this?!" she fires off rapidly. "I thought it was the police over there calling me!"

"Aimee...calm down, I'm fine," I try to soothe her. "I'm in Moldova, but the flight had two other stops, plus the time difference, so it ended up being a lot longer than we figured," I sigh. "And this number is mine, for the landline phone here at the gatehouse, so make sure you save it. The cell reception isn't very good here, and I can't charge my phone until I get a new charging cord because the electrical outlets are completely different here," I finish.

"Thank God..." she breathes.

"You didn't call the police or anyone like that, did you?" I ask nervously.

"No...not yet, but I was going to! I was worried out of my mind, thinking about that movie we watched on Netflix a few months ago about the Russian organ harvesting train, where they lured and killed unsuspecting tourists and stuff. Remember, with Thora Birch?" she rambles.

"Only you would think of that, Aimee," I laugh.

"It's not funny! You don't know how worried I was! What the fuck!" she huffs, irritated.

"I'm sorry," I say chagrined. "I would've been the same, if it were you."

"Damn right!" she replies, and I have to bite my lip to keep from laughing again. "Anyway...how is it there? What's your new place like?"

"It's...unreal, to be honest," I begin, a bit overwhelmed. "It's truly beautiful here – nothing like what I expected. There are mountains and waterfalls and vineyards and farms everywhere, and quaint little villages."

"Wow...what about your house or whatever it's called? Did you meet your boss yet? What's his place like?"

"Well...I was picked up from the airport by a chauffeur who works for Mr. Rykov. He was dressed impeccably, but in an old fashioned uniform. He was very prim and proper, and led me out to a limo, I guess you could call it, but it wasn't an ordinary limo. It was a Bentley or something like that, but from the 20's or 30's, in pristine condition. Your Uncle Rick would've had a heart attack," I laugh.

"For sure," she agrees with a giggle.

"We drove out of the city and pretty much into a mountainous wilderness area where he points across a huge valley at a castle...an enormous, fairy tale looking castle, saying that that's my new home," I explain, but am cut off by Aimee squealing.

"WHAT?! A castle? You're shitting me!" she yells excitedly.

"I shit you not," I giggle. "And the gatehouse that I'm staying in is like a miniature version of the castle, with a huge gate in the middle of it. I've never seen anything like it."

"You lucky bitch! Here I'm stuck in a dorm room with a roommate that snores," she huffs. "And you were so sure that he lived in a shack," she laughs. "I bet he doesn't smell like sauerkraut either," she teases.

"I'll let you know," I chuckle. "But hey, I literally just got in and I need to unpack and finish checking my new digs out. I haven't even been upstairs yet," I sigh. "I promise I'll take pictures and send them to you as soon as I can. Just don't freak out, if you don't hear from me much until I can get a new cord, okay?"

"Oh, alright..." she pouts.

"Seriously, I would call you more on this phone, but I hate to think what it's gonna cost me," I explain with a frown.

"I understand. I'll try to be patient," she giggles. "I'll let you go."

"Later, alligator," I say. "Love ya!"

"After while, crocodile – love you too!" she chimes happily before hanging up.

I hang the receiver back on its cradle, relieved that I was able to reach Aimee in time, and then continue to snoop around. I find a small half bathroom, a small guest room, and a laundry room downstairs that has an antique washer and other old gadgets that I have no clue how to use.

There's also a small back porch area with a few neat stacks of firewood and an old bicycle with a basket on the front.

I then head upstairs where once again I'm in shock.

It's a huge loft style area that runs the entire length of the building, making one large open bedroom, bathroom, and sitting area.

There's an antique canopy bed, that looks to be queen size, with a tapestry style canopy over the top, a large wardrobe and dresser, a cozy seating area with a large Persian rug atop the wood floors, a fireplace, surrounded by bookshelves full of books, a small writing desk and chair that faces the window, and last, but not least, a large, deep claw foot bathtub, sink, and toilet up on a platform area against the wall, in the middle of the room.

I can't wait to soak in it, but it will definitely take some getting used to, being all out in the open like it is.

Oh well...it's just me here, so it should be alright.

Up until mom passed, I had never been on my own, and getting used to sleeping alone at night in my old house was hard even though it was small and familiar.

I'll probably have a hard time falling asleep tonight, no matter how tired I am, in this large, open, unfamiliar place.

As I continue to take the space in, I notice a large Oriental looking vase, full of fresh flowers over on the writing desk with a piece of paper beside it.

I decide to take a quick look and smell the beautiful flowers before I get started.

The paper, addressed to me, has familiar handwriting on it that I recognize as Mr. Rykov's.

Miss Dawes,

Welcome to Moldova and Castle Rykov. I hope your trip was uneventful and that you are settling in nicely here.

I apologize again, for not being able to meet you at the airport, or greet you here, but I had a previous engagement to attend to. I'm sure that Anton handled everything just fine in my stead though, as he is one of my oldest and most trustworthy employees.

I took the liberty of unpacking your sewing machine. I had it serviced and the cord replaced – I hope you don't mind.

When I signed the delivery receipt, the contents of the box were listed below, so I knew that it wasn't anything personal, and I wanted you to be able to use it as soon as possible, if that is your wish.

Consider it my welcoming present to you, along with these flowers, cut fresh from the conservatory this morning – may they brighten your day.

I will see you here at 8:00 am sharp, and escort you to breakfast at the castle.

Regards,
Nikolai Rykov

Well...that was thoughtful...as long as he's not tryin' to get fresh.

I lean in, place my nose in the middle of the bouquet, and inhale deeply.

They smell heavenly, although I don't know what most of them are. The only ones I recognize are the roses.

I turn and walk over to where Anton left my bags and begin unpacking.

It starts to get dark, so I turn one of the bedside lamps on.

I work for a while, separating everything onto the bed, deciding what I want to hang up in the wardrobe and what gets folded and put in the dresser, before setting my old crystal doorknob on the end of the bed.

I haven't decided where I want to put it yet.

It's so quiet in here...too quiet, as I start to hear every little creak and noise.

I ignore it, for a while, knowing that this place is old, until the noises progress into something creepy...like scuttling, causing me to shudder.

What the hell is that?

Some music might help...

I slowly make my way down the stairs into the darkness, stumbling along tensely in the dark, sliding my hand along the walls until I luckily find a light switch.

Once I have some light, I walk from room to room and flip all of the lights on like a scaredy cat before I head over to the old radio.

It has four knobs that aren't labeled, so I turn the one farthest on the right first, but nothing happens. I turn the next one with no luck, and then the next two...and finally, the last one on the left turns it on.

It comes on slowly with a low, buzzing hum. The old, round display lights up dully, and I turn the other three knobs, trying to find the tuner.

Once I figure the knobs out, I turn the tuning knob slowly, trying to pick up a radio station while adjusting the volume with my other hand.

Most is just static at first, but then I begin to hear talking...albeit in Romanian, so I keep going until I finally hear some music.

I turn it up and then use the restroom down here first, since it has a door. The toilet is old...the kind that you have to pull a chain to flush it, but pretty neat.

I wash my hands and then head back upstairs to finish unpacking, so that I can take a bath and hopefully get some sleep, since I have to be up early tomorrow.

Five minutes pass with me listening to a song that I don't really like, but again, it's better than the silence and those creepy ass noises.

I continue putting away everything that goes into the dresser, before I move on to the wardrobe.

A DJ, or at least that's who I assume it is, begins speaking in Romanian after the latest song goes off, and I hope it doesn't last long.

It wouldn't be so bad, if I knew what the hell he is saying...

I make sure my bag and suitcase are completely empty before slipping them underneath the bed.

I put the remaining pairs of socks in the drawer and slide it closed.

A lone piano tune begins playing from the radio downstairs and I instantly know what it is – Endless Love, by Lionel Richie and Diana Ross...one of my mom's favorites.

We would sing it together in the car, taking turns with each verse.

[There should be a GIF or video here. Update the app now to see it.]

(⬆️Please listen! It's important for the next chapter & story!)

Lionel begins to sing...

My love, there's only you in my life
The only thing that's bright

Then Diana starts, and I can't help myself...I begin to sing along.

My first love,
You're every breath that I take
You're every step I make

As Lionel and Diana come together, I grab my old doorknob off of the bed and use it as a microphone as I twirl around, lost in the memories of my mother and beauty of the song.

And I...I want to share
All my love with you
No one else will do

And your eyes, your eyes, your eyes
They tell me how much you care
Ooh yes,
You will always be
My endless love

Two hearts,
Two hearts that beat as one
Our lives have just begun

Forever (Oh)
I'll hold you close in my arms
I can't resist your charms

And love, oh love
I'll be a fool, for you I'm sure
You know I don't mind (Oh)
You know I don't mind

'Cause you,
You mean the world to me (Oh)
I know I know
I've found, I've found in you
My endless love

Oh, and love oh, love
I'll be that fool for you I'm sure,
You know I don't mind
Oh you know I don't mind

And, yes
You'll be the only one
'Cause no one can deny
This love I have inside
And I'll give it all to you

My love, my love, my love
My endless love...

By the time the song is over, I'm winded from singing and dancing, and a bit teary-eyed, but happy, holding the doorknob to my chest. It feels like in some small way, my mom was here with me tonight.

Several small taps on the window jolts me from my reverie. I rush over and look out into the foggy, inky darkness, seeing nothing but a nearby tree.

Just as I turn and lay the doorknob on the small coffee table in the sitting area, I hear a few thumps on the roof followed by that eerie scuttling sound.

I look up at the ceiling, hoping to God that it's a squirrel or raccoon...and that whatever it is can't get in here.         

I finish up, making sure to hang my outfit up for tomorrow, so that it doesn't get wrinkled.

I slide the large bottom drawer of the wardrobe out and find several new looking towels, hand towels, and washrags.

I grab a towel and washrag before closing everything up, and head over to the tub, laying them over the edge of it.

There's a small cabinet beside the tub, and I take a peek inside, hoping that there is some soap and shampoo in there, until I can buy my own.

And it looks like I hit the jackpot...

There are all kinds of things in here – disposable razors, a toothbrush, toothpaste, and what looks like a bottle of shampoo, conditioner, body soap, and lotion, all from Viorica Violelle and Viorica Grapes...whatever that is. The writing is all in Romanian and Russian, except for the word Moldova, but I get the gist of it.

They must be products that are made here.

I flip the top to the shampoo open and sniff. It smells heavenly, like a mix of lavender, grape, and possibly almonds...

I turn the faucet on and get the water hot before putting the plug in the drain. I pour a little of the wonderful smelling shampoo into the water, making a nice bubble bath.

I set everything I'll need beside the tub, close the curtains, and undress quickly.

I hear another small thump followed by that annoying scuttling. I look around and again, see nothing and shake my head.

I must be losing my mind.

I hop in and slide down into the steaming water and lay my head back over the comfortable rim of the tub.

I toss the towel onto the floor and grab the rag, putting it in the water with me.

I let the water run for a few more minutes before I shut it off and close my eyes...soaking my stress and long plane ride away.

I wring the rag out and put it over my face, letting the warmth steam my face as I continue to listen to the random music playing downstairs.

The water begins to cool, so I sit up and wash my face, hair, and body before getting out and drying off.

I walk over and throw on an oversize t-shirt and underwear. I grab the comb out of my makeup bag and then head over to brush my teeth and comb my hair out.

Once I'm finished with that, I use some of the delicious smelling lotion that I found in the cabinet and slather it over my legs, arms, and torso.

After all of that, I'm thankfully feeling sleepy, so I head downstairs to turn everything off.

As I'm shutting the radio and lights off, my stomach growls, so I stop by the kitchen for a quick snack.

I open the fridge and see a lot of fresh fruits and veggies, some cheese, as well as eggs, a small glass container of milk, and small pottery jar of what looks like real butter.

I grab the milk and set it on the counter before I take a look in what Anton called the larder earlier.

I open the door and see it is what we call a pantry in the states, only much larger than any I've ever seen.

It's full of different things such as potatoes and onions in a bin on the floor to shelves with a bag of sugar and flour; coffee, tea, vinegar, cooking oil, condiments, and a loaf of bread, as well as crackers and numerous glass jars full of various vegetables, jellies, and other things that look like soups along with salt, pepper, and tins of spices.

There's a supply shelf with the candles, candlestick holders, and matches that Anton mentioned, as well a few oil lamps and a large bottle of what I assume is the oil for them. There's also toilet paper, trash bags, and things of that nature in here too.

And finally...there's a shelf with what appears to be snacks. Yes!

Hmmm...raisins, cereal...and a small bag of what looks like some kind of cookies that will surely go great with my milk.

The writing on the package is in Russian, so I have no idea what they're called, but they look delicious.

I open a few cabinets, find a glass, and pour some milk.

I take a seat at the small kitchen table and enjoy a few of the Hershey Kiss shaped buttery cookies with soft chocolate inside of them.

As I'm sitting here, I once again hear that same irritating noise.

Maybe it's just a bird nesting in one of the chimneys or something...I hope.

I clean up my mess, shut the light out, and head up to bed.

I brush my teeth again real quick as my eyelids are beginning to feel heavy.

I climb into the soft bed that feels down filled, set the old wind-up style alarm clock beside the bed that reads 9:42 pm, and turn the light off.

I practically pass out the moment my head hits the pillow and sleep deeply until around 3 am, when I feel something crawling on me.

It's subtle at first, and in my sleep-deprived state, I try to ignore it, but I continue to feel a slight tickling sensation all over my body.

I sit up quickly and throw the blanket off of me, seeing nothing but crisp, white sheets.

What the fuck?!

I know I felt something!

It'll be just my luck that this old place is haunted.

I reluctantly turn the light off and try to get back to sleep, wrapping the sheet and blankets around me tightly.

I doze off again...until 4:20 am, when I feel something graze my cheek...and then my lips.

This time I nearly fly up off of the bed, batting at myself like a crazy person, feeling as if I had a bug crawling on me.

I fucking HATE bugs!!!

Once my heart and nerves calm down a bit, I sit on the foot of the bed and notice what looks like a long, thick spider web strand...hanging right over where my head had laid on the pillow.

I quickly get off the bed, shuddering in disgust and scratching at my body, feeling phantom sensations...unable to go back to sleep.

A/N : Well, she's all settled in...or is she? Next chapter will be from Nikolai's POV, & then they'll meet...or have they already? Hehehe...😈🕷 Let me hear your thoughts!

I hope everyone has a VERY Merry Christmas, & a Happy New Year!!! 🎄🎁 🎉 🥳 🎊
This chapter is over 5,300 words - my gift to you! Hope you enjoy! 😘

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