The question hung in the cold night air.
How much do you know about the Winchester family?
Mayson studied the vampire carefully.
The stranger's expression remained unreadable.
Calm.
Patient.
Waiting.
Most people would have answered immediately.
Mayson wasn't most people.
"Enough."
The vampire smiled faintly.
"That's a very Winchester answer."
Interesting.
"So you've met one?"
The stranger's smile widened slightly.
"I've met several."
Neither moved.
The cemetery remained silent around them.
Ancient stones stretched across the hillside beneath the moonlight.
For a moment it felt like the entire town had disappeared.
Leaving only the two of them and the history buried beneath their feet.
"You know who I am."
It wasn't a question.
The stranger nodded.
"Yes."
"And yet you're standing here anyway."
Another nod.
"Yes."
Mayson watched him.
No fear.
No hesitation.
No sign of concern.
That alone said something.
Very few people who knew the Winchester name remained completely comfortable around it.
This vampire seemed almost amused by it.
Which made him even more interesting.
"Who are you?"
The stranger glanced toward one of the nearby gravestones.
For several seconds he simply looked at it.
Then he answered.
"My name is Adrian."
Mayson waited.
Nothing else followed.
"Just Adrian?"
"That's the name people usually use."
"Convenient."
"I thought so."
The corner of Mayson's mouth twitched slightly.
The vampire noticed.
"You enjoy being difficult."
"Only when necessary."
"It wasn't necessary."
"I disagree."
Adrian laughed softly.
The sound echoed briefly through the cemetery.
Then faded.
For some reason, that laugh felt old.
Not physically.
Emotionally.
Like someone who had lived long enough to find amusement in things that stopped surprising everyone else.
"You asked how much I know about the Winchesters."
Mayson's voice remained calm.
"Why?"
Adrian's gaze shifted back to him.
"Because the answer matters."
"To who?"
"To me."
That wasn't much of an explanation.
Adrian seemed aware of that.
The older vampire stepped closer to the grave he had been standing beside.
Moonlight illuminated the weathered inscription.
The lettering was faded.
Barely readable.
Yet one word remained visible.
Winchester.
Mayson's eyes narrowed.
Interesting.
Very interesting.
"This cemetery is older than the town records claim."
Adrian rested a hand against the stone.
"Most people don't know that."
"Most people don't come here."
"True."
For a moment Adrian appeared almost distracted.
Like he was remembering something.
Then his attention returned.
"You see this grave?"
Mayson nodded.
"It's empty."
The statement caught him off guard.
Only slightly.
"Empty."
"Completely."
Mayson looked at the marker again.
The earth beneath it looked no different from the others.
No obvious clues.
Nothing unusual.
Yet Adrian sounded completely certain.
"Why create an empty grave?"
Adrian smiled.
"Excellent question."
The older vampire looked around the cemetery.
At the countless markers scattered across the hill.
Then he said something that immediately captured Mayson's full attention.
"Because sometimes graves aren't meant to bury people."
Silence.
Then—
"They're meant to bury information."
Mayson remained motionless.
His expression unchanged.
Internally, however, several possibilities immediately began forming.
Records.
Evidence.
Secrets.
History.
Adrian was talking about something specific.
Not philosophy.
Not symbolism.
Something real.
"The founders understood that eventually someone would come looking."
The wind stirred gently through the trees.
Leaves rustled overhead.
"They knew records could be stolen."
Adrian's gaze drifted across the cemetery.
"They knew buildings could burn."
Another pause.
"They knew memories could be manipulated."
That line stood out.
Mayson noticed immediately.
Because Adrian had delivered it differently.
More carefully.
More deliberately.
"And what exactly were they hiding?"
Adrian looked at him.
For several seconds neither spoke.
Then the older vampire smiled.
"You're impatient."
"I prefer efficiency."
"Same thing."
"No."
"Close enough."
Mayson decided arguing would be a waste of time.
Adrian slowly walked between two rows of graves.
Mayson followed.
The deeper they moved into the cemetery, the older the markers appeared.
Some had nearly eroded away entirely.
Others leaned at strange angles.
Centuries of weather had taken their toll.
Yet certain family names continued appearing.
Again.
And again.
And again.
Winchester.
Owl.
Ashford.
Blackthorne.
Several others.
Families.
Founders.
Bloodlines.
Patterns.
"You've noticed them."
"Yes."
"Good."
Adrian stopped beside another stone.
"This town wasn't built by ordinary people."
"No."
"It was built by survivors."
That made Mayson pause.
Survivors.
Not founders.
Not leaders.
Survivors.
Interesting choice of wording.
"Survivors of what?"
The question came immediately.
Adrian's expression shifted.
Not much.
Just enough.
For the first time since arriving, he seemed genuinely serious.
"That's the question everyone eventually asks."
The older vampire looked toward the dark forest beyond the cemetery.
"Unfortunately, the answer tends to create more problems than it solves."
A distant owl called from somewhere in the trees.
The sound echoed briefly.
Then vanished.
Silence returned.
"You've been watched since arriving in town."
Adrian suddenly changed subjects.
Mayson wasn't surprised.
"I know."
"Several groups."
"I know."
"Some know your name."
"I assumed."
Adrian nodded.
"Good."
His eyes narrowed slightly.
"Then you also understand that some of them are beginning to worry."
That was interesting.
"Worry."
"Yes."
"About me?"
"Partly."
Adrian folded his arms.
"Mostly because you keep attracting attention."
Mayson almost laughed.
"That isn't intentional."
"I know."
"Then why blame me?"
Adrian actually smiled at that.
"A fair point."
For a few moments they continued walking.
The cemetery sloped downward toward a lower section hidden beneath massive oak trees.
Fewer graves stood here.
Older graves.
Much older.
The air itself felt different.
Heavier.
Not supernatural.
Historical.
Like this section had witnessed things nobody remembered anymore.
Then Adrian stopped.
Completely.
His gaze settled on something ahead.
Mayson followed it.
And froze.
Not visibly.
But internally.
Because at the center of the clearing stood a massive stone monument.
Larger than any grave in the cemetery.
Far older.
Covered in worn carvings.
Names.
Dates.
Symbols.
Time had damaged most of them.
Yet enough remained visible to recognize.
"What is it?"
Adrian stared at the monument.
"A mistake."
Mayson raised an eyebrow.
"That's dramatic."
"You'll find history usually is."
They approached slowly.
The closer they got, the more details became visible.
Ancient names.
Founder names.
Dozens of them.
Some familiar.
Others completely unknown.
At the very top sat a single phrase.
The lettering had nearly vanished.
But not completely.
Mayson read it.
And immediately understood why Adrian brought him here.
Because it didn't say founder.
It didn't say settlement.
It didn't say family.
It said:
The Fallen of Black Hollow.
His eyes narrowed.
"Black Hollow."
Adrian nodded.
"You've never heard of it."
"No."
"Most haven't."
The older vampire's voice became quieter.
More serious.
"Officially, Black Hollow never existed."
A cold breeze moved through the clearing.
The trees swayed overhead.
The monument remained motionless.
Watching.
Waiting.
Ancient.
"Then why is it here?"
Adrian's gaze never left the stone.
"Because someone wanted to remember."
The answer came softly.
Almost respectfully.
"Even after everyone else decided to forget."
For several seconds neither spoke.
Then Mayson noticed something.
A detail carved into the lower section of the monument.
Partially hidden beneath years of damage.
A symbol.
One he recognized.
Not from Broken Falls.
Not from school.
Not from town records.
From somewhere else.
From home.
From his family's records.
His expression hardened.
Just slightly.
But enough.
Because the symbol belonged to the Winchesters.
And if it was here—
Then whatever Black Hollow had been…
His family had been involved.
Deeply involved.
Adrian finally looked at him.
And for the first time all night, the amusement was completely gone from his face.
"You see it."
"Yes."
"Good."
The older vampire nodded once.
Slowly.
Deliberately.
Then he delivered the sentence that changed everything.
"The history of Broken Falls didn't begin here."
Mayson remained silent.
Adrian's eyes locked onto his.
"The history of Broken Falls began when Black Hollow died."