Explore Benicka House

I pull the pickup truck to a stop at Bathory Row, taking a moment to study Benicka House as I prepare to do some investigating. Benicka House is a large, Victorian-era home, nearly a mansion, that sprawls over the hilltop above Bathory Row, commanding a view of campus that stretches out below. The house itself is shrouded in shadow. The windows are numerous and seem to gaze out from every corner.

As I approach Benicka House, the air grows heavier, and the mood shifts from one of simple curiosity to a sense of foreboding. The house's structure is peculiar, with its asymmetrical design and oddly slanted roof, creating a sense of unease as I stand before it. The unopened museum appears to be highly secure, and it's evident that no detail has been overlooked in its fortification.

The front door catches my attention, adorned with a keypad that demands a six-character alphanumeric code. I can't make out any hidden buttons or backdoors, and it's clear that breaking in would require a serious investment of time and resources. My gaze sweeps over the windows, which are protected by shatterproof glass and reinforced steel security shutters.

Peering through the glass, I notice that the windows feature LED lights, simulating the appearance of an occupied building. It's a simple yet effective measure to deter potential intruders. As I walk around the building, I can't find any obvious means of entry. The windows and doors are all impenetrable barriers that seem designed to keep prying eyes away.

I'm left with the unpleasant realization that I may need to come up with a more creative solution if I want to gain access to Benicka House. With the museum proving to be a veritable fortress, I can't help but feel a sense of awe at the lengths its owners have gone to keep their secrets locked away.

As I turn to leave Benicka House, I can't quite shake the feeling that I'm being watched. My head snaps up to see if there's anyone nearby, but the streets are deserted. Something catches the corner of my eye and my gaze drifts to the moon that hovers in the sky, casting an eerie glow on everything below.

In the space of a heartbeat, the moon seems to darken, and a disturbing shape appears to fly across its face. It's fleeting, just a quick blur that's gone almost as soon as I see it. I rub my eyes, wondering if it was just my imagination. But the hair on the back of my neck stands up, and a shiver runs down my spine.

I clamber into the truck, slamming the door shut, and start the engine. As I drive away from Bathory Row, I question whether I'm truly ready to delve into this labyrinth of secrets. It's a reminder of the unseen forces that are at work, ones that may very well have played a part in the events that led to several young women's tragic demise.