Chapter 11 – Breaking Point

Thomas's head was in his hands as he sat slouched at the kitchen table. He felt the weight of the house's silence pressing down on him. The walls themselves seemed to be taunting him, and the air was heavy with failure. The ritual had been tried. The spirit was still there even though they were so near.

Eva lay still on the couch in the living room, her skin damp and pale. Shallow, uneven breaths rose and fell in her chest, and her eyes flashed under her eyelids, like though she were caught in a nightmare. Once coiling like a serpent around her, the dark smoke now clung surreptitiously inside her, feeding on the remnants of her spirit.

Thomas felt completely powerless. How can you combat something that is invisible? How can someone who is already losing their way be saved?

Eva's fingers twitched as though she was reaching for an absent person while she murmured in her sleep. Then the barely audible but distinct whisper, "Help me..."

Something inside Thomas cracked at the sound of it. She needed to be saved by him. However, he was unsure of how.

The kids upstairs were falling apart.

He would not sleep in his room, Simon. Too scared to dare approach his own door, he snuggled on Ethan's bed. One night, Simon trembled as he muttered, "I saw her standing there." "She didn't blink while she was staring at me."

Ethan attempted to reassure him, but in reality, he was equally terrified. In his nightmares, he continued to see his mother's pallid face, her icy hands closing around his throat and her vacant eyes staring into his with nothing but hunger behind them. It was not a dreamlike experience. It had the feel of a warning.

Lily was the next person.

She had completely ceased speaking, withdrawing into an odd, unsettling quiet. She drew all she did now. Her journal was filled with picture after photo, dark, eerie pictures of a boy with shackles around his wrists and black holes within his pale face for eyes.

With a sinking heart, Thomas turned to one of her sketches. The boy got bigger and bigger in each photo. With his arms outstretched and chains trailing behind him like tree roots, he loomed over the home in the final one.

"Where did you last see this boy, Lily?" Thomas crouched next to her and inquired.

Lily didn't raise her gaze. Her crayon continued to damage the sheet as she continued to sketch. She said, "He lives here." "He informed me that his mother didn't love him."

The blood in Thomas ran cold. The youngster was also inside the house, into the minds of their kids. And he'd take them all if they didn't do something quickly.

David's actions became increasingly unsettling every day. His attitude fluctuated between eerie calm and sudden, explosive wrath, and he stopped talking to his siblings except to lash out furiously. His primary focus was Ethan; the sibling he had previously admired was now viewed as an adversary.

Ethan attempted to approach him one afternoon. He grabbed David by the shoulder and shouted, "Why are you behaving like this?" "You're aware that Mom is having problems! Why do you refuse to assist us?

David's reaction was abrupt and harsh. His hands flew as he pounced at Ethan. David's nails were digging into his brother's flesh as the two boys fell to the ground.

"You wish to remove her!" David let out a piercing, desperate cry. "You wish to rob me of her!"

The damage was already done when Thomas hurried in and began tearing the guys apart. David writhed furiously in his father's grasp, kicking and growling like a snarling monster, while Ethan's cheek was scratched and bleeding.

"He is deceiving you!" David twisted in his father's grasp and shouted. "Mom doesn't require rescue! She is finally content! It's you who are destroying everything!

Thomas felt David's tiny body quiver with anger as he hugged him close. David no longer had the childlike appearance of a child; instead, his eyes were glassy and wide with the same old hatred that had corroded Eva's spirit.

Later that evening, Thomas met with Pastor John and told him everything, including the boys' fight, Simon's dreams, and Lily's paintings, while his hands trembled. Each fragment felt like a sharp object in the coffin.

Silently, John listened, his face calm but white. The indicators were obvious. Time was not on their side.

"There won't be anything remained of Eva if we don't take action soon, Thomas," John stated solemnly. She will be totally consumed by the spirit.

Thomas scratched his temples, his mind hazy with fatigue. What more could they bear? The spirit retaliated more forcefully with each step they made, feeding off their hopelessness and twisting their terror.

"We must make another attempt," Thomas whispered. "There must be a way—the ritual."

John gave a headshake. Without unity, it won't function. David, too, has gone too far. He is in the spirit.

That statement weighed heavy on Thomas's chest. His wife was vanishing and his son had already gone missing.

"How can I combat this?" Thomas's voice cracked as he whispered. "What can I do to combat a monster that already exists within my family?"

John remained silent. Easy answers were no longer available.

The only sound in the house that night was Eva's weak breathing as Thomas sat by himself in the darkened living room after putting the kids to bed. He turned to face her—his wife, his beloved, the person he had promised to keep safe. Nevertheless, the being within her had changed.

Now he could see it in the way her lips twisted into weird, unfamiliar smiles, in the way her body trembled while she slept. He could do nothing to stop her from drifting farther and farther away.

Unless...

Thomas was attempting to escape the awful thought that had been bothering him ever since the spell failed. Only he could confront the spirit.

He had been cautioned by Pastor John that the spirit thrived on discord and fear. However, he might be able to force it out if he faced it without the children or the priest. Perhaps it wouldn't struggle so hard if he voluntarily stepped into the dark.

Thomas's heart was heavy with shame and terror, and he tightened his hands. He would do it if it meant saving Eva, even if it was a risky and maybe dangerous proposal.

He brushed a lock of hair away from her face and gave her one final glance. It felt cold to touch her skin.

"I promise not to lose you," he muttered. "I swear."

Without saying another word, he got up and walked to the basement door.

He opened it and saw the vast darkness below, the hinges creaking.

Thomas inhaled deeply. Then, by himself, he entered the darkness.