Disclaimer: I do not own the Mystery Case Files: Ravenhearst series. This is an AU of that universe. This was inspired by The Basement Chronicles by SilveRanger on AO3. I highly recommend you read that as well, even though it is not related to this story.

WARNING: This chapter contains scenes of violent medical procedures that are horribly inaccurate.

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At this point, she was well-versed enough to cook all of the meals and take care of all of the chores. Her day typically started with her waking up early, changing into her clothes for the day. Then, she had to draw water from the pump in advance for that day's wash, finishing in time to get breakfast started. Once that monotonous ritual was completed, and the dishes washed, it was time for the laundry. This task actually took the least amount of time for her to do, so she didn't dread it as much. Once she was done, she would occupy herself with the literature lessons Charles and Rose would lay out for her. After that, she had to fix up something quick for lunch. She had free time for a few hours until she had piano lessons with Emma, something she enjoyed marginally. She was quite decent at it at this point, and she was proud of that. It helped that Emma was proud of her too. Once the lesson was over, she had to make dinner and then complete her routine tasks for bed, so she could wake up early and do it all over again.

Usually, this boring cycle would drive her insane. But nowadays, she found that her body was working on auto-pilot, like she wasn't entirely in control of it. Maybe Charles had found a way to control her mind. The thought should've terrified her, but she learned awhile ago that it was best to feel numb. Not that it was easy to do that, but she never stopped trying to reach that state of apathy.

The discipline had done its duty. The punishments were less frequent after she stopped trying to escape, making her believe that she should've just done this from the beginning. It would have saved her a lot of pain. And it wasn't like her father wanted to beat her or lock her in the dark in that small cage (which felt as though it had shrunk as time passed). Father only wanted what was best for her, and it was easier to accept that. No one else wanted her anyways. She would've been rescued by now if they had.

Father seemed to be in a very cheerful mood today. During breakfast, he instructed her to meet him outside the parlor room during the afternoon today. He claimed that he wanted to show her something. Maddie had no idea what it could be, but there was no disobeying Father. So, the thirteen-year-old (was she thirteen? Or was she fourteen? Perhaps she should pay attention the next time her birthday rolled around.) did as she was told, finding the man standing just outside the parlor in the main atrium.

He smiled warmly at her, gesturing her inside. Usually, she never went near the parlor. Not because it was forbidden, but because there was really no use for it. It was meant as an entertainment area for guests, but it's not like they would have any guests. It was just a nondescript room with light-pink paisley wallpaper, the furniture matching. End tables and the occasional vase adorned the spacious room, giving it a more homely touch. She didn't acknowledge any of this. She simply followed Charles to the center of the room, where he removed the coffee table and rug underneath to reveal a trapdoor she had never known existed before. He opened it, revealing a staircase leading downwards. They went down together, all of this beginning to set the girl on edge.

The staircase ended at what looked to be an old elevator door, one you'd see in that first episode of The Twilight Zone. Her father reached over and pushed a button, and a resounding ding echoed around them. The door opened into an unremarkable hallway. It looked like any other in this underground house, except it looked like it was half-finished. Clusters of dirt, shovels, and wooden beams lined the frame of the unfinished walls. Maddie had no idea what was down here that Charles had to show her.

They made their way down the hall, and as they drew closer to a heavy-set metal door, Maddie could hear light banging. She realized it came from behind the door. She gulped, apprehension settling in her gut. Charles reached towards the handle, looking back to smile disarmingly at her. It did the exact opposite. "Don't be afraid," he said. "Be a good girl for your father, alright?" She could do that. She could be a good girl. The sting on her sides reminded her of that. But all of that went out the window when Charles pushed open the door.

It looked like a forensics autopsy room, one you would see in those cop shows. A big, surgical light shone onto a shiny operating table, stained with rust and... other things. Maddie didn't want to think about the blood. Tubes were scattered around the table, coming from another one of those strange machines that Charles had built. Off in the corner, where more tubes snaked, was a chair fitted with restraints. Like an electric chair but without the head cap. And she had a feeling it wasn't used for executing people. Some of the leather straps on it looked worn and frayed, like countless victims before had struggled in vain against them. Her stomach did an uncomfortable flip.

It wasn't until Charles pulled her into the room that she began to register that the banging had gotten louder. But not just that, it was accompanied by screaming. Horrified, panicked screaming. She turned to her right, where a wall of lockers took up the entire space. They were the kind of lockers you would find in a morgue. This is where the banging and screaming was coming from. Muffled screaming from a man and a woman, alive, in those lockers. Fear clenched her heart again, the implications of this racing through her mind.

"Wh-What is this?" she stuttered, frozen to the spot as Charles prepared something in a shadowy corner next to the machine. The man looked up at her, beaming brightly. It was most likely meant to be reassuring but to her, it looked maniacal. Whatever he had planned for her, and the people he had captured, would not be good. Charles moved to one of the locker doors that was shaking and rattling in its frame from whoever was pounding on it from the other side. "It's time that you are welcomed into the real family," he said cryptically. And with that, he opened the locker and pulled out the gurney.

A woman, naked, was strapped down onto the gurney inside. She thrashed against her restraints, her cries muffled by the rubber gag strapped tightly over her face. Her eyes darted around frantically in fear, sweat rolling in rivulets over her body. Maddie could only assume the man was restrained in the same way. The woman's eyes eventually landed on her, and the girl could see the plea in those eyes, a plea to save her from whatever horrible fate was in store for her. Maddie, horrified, took a few steps back until she collided with another body behind her. Arms wrapped around her, pressing her flush against them.

"Ah, Eric, perfect timing," Charles said to his eldest son, who held the terrified girl in his strong grip. "Help Madeleine into her seat, would you?" Maddie began to kick and writhe, screaming for her father to stop, to show her mercy. "I-I've been good! I've been good, I promise!" she cried, but there was no yield as Eric carried her over to the chair in the corner. Her words dissolved into her screams eventually, and the woman's screams began to sound more angered than afraid. Perhaps she was worried for the girl. A welcome kindness. A kindness that would be snuffed out all the same.

Tears and snot stained her face as Eric began strapping her down in the chair. A leather binding pinned down her legs and waist. Two crossed over in an "X" over her chest. More kept her arms in place on the armrests. And finally, one wrapped around her neck, reducing her struggles to mild shifts lest she cut off her airway. However, that no longer mattered when Eric approached her with the ends of a few cables of the machine. She jerked and bucked wildly in her restraints but no such luck. The end of one cable sunk into the back of her head, one on her neck, and another in the crook of her elbow. She shrieked at each insert. It felt like getting a shot, but the needle stayed in after it was injected.

Eric then moved back to Charles once he was finished with her, helping keep the woman's head still as the older man plunged the contents of a syringe into her neck. The woman's struggles eventually ceased, whatever she had been injected with having paralyzed her. She could only make heavy pants and croaks beyond the rubber gag in her mouth. Charles and Eric undid the straps and lifted the woman onto the operating table. The woman herself could barely move, but once on the table, she was able to crane her neck enough to glance back at the girl. That plea reverberated in her eyes again, and the question was clear: Am I going to die?

Maddie couldn't take that stare, and she tried to speak up. "Stop!" she cried. "Please, please don't do this!" Charles paid her no mind, taking off his suit jacket and rolling up the sleeves of his white dress shirt. "Put the gag on Madeleine as well, Eric," he instructed, all the while staring down at the woman like she was an insect he was about to crush. "We don't want her biting her tongue." She tried to turn her head away, but it was useless. As the offending piece of rubber was shoved into her mouth, she continued to scream, her begging now muffled. Once that was finished, Eric bent down next to the machine to pick up what looked like a gas mask, with a tube hooked into the mouthpiece connected to the machine. Removing the woman's rubber gag, he slipped the mask over her face, muffling her voice once more. The eyepieces were blacked out, so Maddie assumed that she couldn't see anything either. Somehow, that seemed worse.

The girl's breath caught in her throat when Charles pulled over what he had been preparing earlier: a cart piled with medical supplies and surgical tools. They all looked sterile and pristine. She started screaming again as her father pulled on a pair of rubber gloves and a surgical mask. Again, she was paid no mind, Charles' fingers ghosting over each tool in turn, as if trying to remember which one he used first. He eventually decided on a bone saw, switching it on to observe the spinning blade. The sound of it sent both Maddie and the woman into a frenzy, the woman sounding like she was hyperventilating. But she couldn't move, couldn't do anything about it. She could only lay there helplessly as the saw descended towards her flesh.

Maddie was the unfortunate witness to the entire procedure. The woman's screams of agony were reduced to gargled croaks as her body convulsed, the drug she was pumped with keeping her still. She didn't want to watch, but she couldn't make herself close her eyes or turn away, the horrific display freezing her in place. Charles eventually reached the bone, using his gloved hands to widen the crude incision. Using what looked like giant pliers, he cracked open the woman's exposed ribcage, shards of cartilage flying everywhere. Somehow, the woman was still alive throughout all of this. Charles grabbed ahold of one of the tubes by his feet, like the ones that Eric had stuck her with. With intentional cruelty, he connected the woman to the machine with the tube sinking into her still beating heart. With a nod to Eric, the eldest Dalimar activated the machine.

The woman's body twitched sporadically. To Maddie's horror, the woman seemed to rapidly decay, the skin shriveling up and crusting. Hair fell off in huge chunks until she was completely bald. The machine appeared to be sucking something out of the woman, one of the cylinders above the diabolical contraption slowly filling with an eerily glowing green liquid. The machine was finally shut off once the woman's body stopped moving. Maddie couldn't contain her screech of horror when Charles removed the mask. The eyes had sunk deep into the skull, the face withered and haggard. No teeth were left in the jaw. It looked like... it looked like a corpse with skin.

Charles unceremoniously rolled the body of what was once a woman off the table, the corpse making a brittle crack as it hit the stone floor. That haunting face was left to stare up at her. The image was burned into her retinas.

Her father repeated the same procedure with the man, the shriveled-up corpse joining its twin on the floor soon after.

"It's fortunate that this couple was so young," Charles commented before gesturing at Eric again. His eldest son flipped a few switches before pushing a button. The two green cylinders, now full of that green liquid, began to drain, plungers pushing it out of its confines. She realized too late that it was flowing through the tubes connected to her. She struggled and cried out until the liquid began pouring into her veins and spinal cord.

It was horrible. She shrieked and jerked around in her bonds as if she was having a seizure. Something foreign, something wrong, was pushing its way into her body but she could do nothing to stop it. It was painful. But she screamed more from horror than the pain.

Once the cylinders were completely empty once more, she was finally released from the chair, the gag removed from her mouth. She sucked in the air like she couldn't get enough of it, trying to summon the strength to run. But there wasn't any to begin with. She could only stand there in silent shock. It was standing, frozen stiff like this that she felt it: something wriggling and twisting underneath her skin. Yet, it felt deeper than that somehow. She stared at her hands and arms, almost expecting worms writhing just under the surface.

"Wh-What...?" she stammered. "What did you do? What did you put in me?" Charles simply put his tools in a nearby sink to wash later, scrubbing off the red caked to his hands. "That should be enough essence to keep you alive for another two decades at most." Maddie just stared at him in abject horror, Rose's words echoing in her mind: My soul stays bound to the earth, due to the essence that Charles keeps pumping into it. Into us.

There were pieces of people inside her. Pieces that had been extracted and ground down for fuel, to keep her alive. Her father wanted to make her immortal, like him and Eric. Terrified, she could feel the bits of soul squirming around inside her, as if trying to find a way out. Not only that, but she could also feel it joining her, sinking into the deep recesses of her being. "I don't want it!" she cried out, her vision blurred by tears. She began to rake her nails over the skin of her arms, trying to claw it open. "Get it out! Get it out!"

Charles took hold of her wrists in a vice grip, halting her movements. His face was stern, like when he was about to give her a scathing lecture. "None of that, Madeleine," he said firmly. "Once your body's absorbed the essence, there's no removing it. It will eventually fully integrate into your own soul. If you continue to try to hurt yourself like this, I'll have no choice but to punish you for it. Do you want that?"

Maddie felt her throat close up, her protests dying in her chest. She shook her head vehemently, wanting nothing to do with that cramped cage and dark room. Charles smiled in satisfaction. "Good girl," he praised, patting her head like she was a dog. She was let go, her father motioning for her to follow. But she stood still, her breath coming and going in rapid pants. Her heartbeat was wild, painfully pounding against her ribs. Blackness crept around the edge of her vision.

She didn't know when she fainted exactly.

When she woke up the next day, she felt rejuvenated like she had never been before. The need to eat, drink, or sleep seemed trivial to her. Charles was overjoyed at the development, especially after the so-called "reaction" she experienced because of the procedure yesterday. For Maddie, however, this was the worst thing imaginable. Her father had done something irreversible to her. She would live longer now, realizing one of her nightmares had come true.

She was no longer human.

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The detective stepped out of his black Benson, slamming the driver's side door closed. A gentle breeze ruffled the ends of his longcoat, his figure stood stoic and strong in the face of the wrought-iron gate before him. His eyes narrowed at it as if it personally offended him. The crest of a raven adorned the elegant gates. Iron pieces twisted artistically into letters lined the top: Ravenhearst Manor.

The old investigator huffed before stalking towards the boot of his car, popping open the lid. Withdrawing a pair of bolt cutters, he returned to the gate, using the tool to cut the heavy chains keeping the gates shut. They sprang ajar with a loud creak, though there would be no one near enough to hear it. The property beyond was deathly silent. To most, it would have been peaceful. To the detective, it was a desolate wasteland.

It had been five years since Madeleine, the young girl he had been put in charge of searching for, had disappeared, snatched from her home. Everyone else in his department believed she was dead, but he knew better. Throughout all the years he had been an MCF investigator, his arch-nemesis had never abducted a child before. He had seemed averse to it. Charles seemed to have a creepy obsession with her, enough to take her away from her family. To the authorities, his target seemed completely random. To Charles, she was anything but. That's how he remained one step ahead of his enemy: he learned to think like them. Of course, none of that would matter if he didn't have the backing of the department.

He was out on his own doing this, breaking standard protocol. He would get in trouble if the Head Investigator found out what he was doing. But the sleepless nights and the angry, devastated expressions of the girl's parents became too much for him. He had to see if she was alive. And if she was, if he could save her. His conscious could be put at ease if he at least could do that. A small part of him hoped he would have the chance to kill Dalimar.

The house was as rundown and decrepit as he expected, but he knew it must be a façade. Walking up to the front door, he tried the knob. While the lock creaked with age, the door didn't budge one inch. He tried forcing all his weight against it, but it held fast. Cursing, he stepped back with a huff, growling to himself in frustration. He had just gotten here and the first thing that stops him is a simple door?

He looked off in the distance to the left of the manor, following the path with his eyes. A small pinprick in the distance caught his attention. He trudged down the front steps again, his boots squelching in the mud from the recent rain. After passing a small drainage aqueduct, the pinprick became clearer: a lighthouse situated on the peak of bluffs, the sea crashing against the rocks far below.

His eyes widened as something else came into view as he drew closer. Or rather, someone. A young girl, clad in a vibrant summer dress, stood near the edge of the cliffs, the ocean's spray occasionally sprinkling on her bare legs. Her long, golden-brown hair flowed elegantly from beneath a broad sunhat. She didn't seem to hear him as he approached.

It almost seemed too good to be true. "Maddie?" he called. The girl whipped around in a fright, her brow crinkling after not recognizing him. Yet, when he moved to stand beside her, getting a better look at her face, there was no doubt about it. A ten-year-old face that always seemed to stare accusingly at him from her profile picture emulated the teenage face he was met with now. After going missing for five years, the girl looked fine on the surface. But her posture and her blue eyes conveyed something different. Something that had embraced instinctual fear. Her skin was frighteningly pale; she must not have spent any time in the sun since she was abducted.

Maddie stared at him warily. "How... How do you know me?" she asked, trying to sound demanding but failing. Her voice shook too much for that. The detective raised his hands placatingly. "Relax," he assured. "I am no one who means you harm." His eyes trailed her up and down. The girl noticed this and shrunk away, self-conscious. The detective sighed. "Your parents asked me to find you and bring you home."

That made her perk up, the barest flash of hope kindling in her eyes. It was quickly extinguished, her gaze casting towards the sea below, a few droplets from the spray reaching her cheeks. "That's nice to know, if it were true," she muttered, tone dejected and monotonous. She sounded much older than she looked.

The detective glanced over at her. "But it is true," he said, hoping she would believe it. "Your mom and dad never gave up on you, even after all these years. Neither did I. They're still waiting for the day when you come home." Maddie didn't react to this. Eventually, she took a deep breath, closing her eyes. "I am home," she stated. "I have a new family now."

The old investigator flinched slightly. His eyes were wide in horror as he stared at her. "What..." he choked out. "What happened?" Maddie hunched in on herself, clasping her hands together tightly. Her hair slipped in front of her face, but her eyes were still visible. They were haunted and full of despair. But more than that, they were filled with fear. The detective instantly regretted his question. That sort of reaction suggested something truly horrific. He was extremely disturbed that the girl had, most likely, felt like this all these years.

Maddie gulped, gathering up her nerve. "I'll be turning fifteen soon," she said. "And after that, I'll be... I'll be..." She didn't seem to want to say it, the thought of it scaring her beyond reasoning. She vehemently shook her head to recompose herself. "He... He let me go outside just this once before I... before I can't anymore."

The detective stared at her fervently. "What does that mean? What does he plan to do?" Maddie's shoulders hunched in even further, a small whimper escaping her. She seemed to be begging the man not to make her tell him. But if it was something that couldn't be undone, he had to know.

"Madeleine!" The voice startled both of them, turning to see the well-dressed man waving at them from the base of the hill. The detective's heart began to beat faster in rage and apprehension. That must be him. That must be Dalimar. The man who ruined so many lives. And he stood there like a parent calling in their child from playing outside. "Say goodbye to our guest and come back inside. It's almost time for supper!"

Maddie's eyes widened in abject fear. "Already?" she breathed out. "It felt like I just got here." The girl held the air of a soul that had been thoroughly broken, drained of all hope. She didn't like obeying Charles, that much was clear, but she had accepted that she had no choice. She bit her lip, but otherwise said nothing, lowering her head in submission. It broke the detective's heart.

"Listen to me, Maddie," he said, making her divert her soulless eyes towards him. He tried to convey as much of his determination as he could in his words. "I am going to save you. I swear on my life, I will. I'll make sure he never hurts you again."

The broken girl stared up at him in wonderous shock for a moment before tears spilled down her cheeks. She hastily wiped them away. She dared not hope yet, but the detective's declaration sounded so convincing. She imagined him taking her away right now, away from this waking nightmare she had lived in for so long. Perhaps, she would have a nice dream tonight. She hadn't had one of those in awhile.

"If that's true," she choked out between sobs, "then please... don't take so long. Find me. Save me. Please, save me."

The detective regarded her with a solemn and rigid resolve. "I promise," he said, and he felt it binding. It was a promise he planned to keep. He would not let her down. Charles called for her again, beginning to sound impatient. Reigning in her emotions, she curtsied. "It was a pleasure to meet you, sir," she said, before padding her way down the hill, taking Charles' outstretched hand. The madman pulled her close, wrapping an arm around her shoulders as he took her back to the house. The detective felt his fists clench at the sight. It took everything in him not to rush after them and rip the girl from his damaging grip. He still didn't know the extent of Charles' capabilities, or if he had an accomplice. Instead, he watched them disappear through the front door, locking it once it clicked shut.

The detective stalked back to his car, valiantly starting up the engine. This wasn't the end. He would be back. And when he returned, he would make Charles rue the day he dared to provoke the wrath of the Mystery Case Files unit.

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Author's Note: We are approaching the end of this story. Probably two or three chapters left. I wanted to go into detail into how exactly Charles drains essence from his victims, like, the actual procedure and everything. For those of you who've played Ravenhearst, the scene is a half-finished replica of the hospital in the third game. My skin crawled every time you clicked on those morgue mannequins and you heard those haunting, desperate pleas.

In the past two weeks, my grandma was sent to the hospital for pneumonia (she's out now, and has been for about a week) and my younger brother nearly set our neighborhood on fire. So, yeah, that's what's been going on with me.

Praise is appreciated and constructive criticism is encouraged.

See you next time!

-The_Mayflower