Chapter 3: The Study’s Secrets
"You have to understand, Evelyn," Lucian said quietly. "This house doesn't want you here. It's… alive, in a way. And the deeper you go, the more it will try to fight you."
Evelyn crossed her arms, her gaze flicking between him and the strange symbol etched into the desk. "Fight me?" she repeated, incredulous. "Listen to yourself, Lucian. None of this makes sense. You're here, talking to me, when you've been dead for—" She stopped herself, the words catching in her throat. It felt wrong to say it out loud, as if speaking it would shatter the fragile reality she was standing in.
"I know how it sounds," Lucian said, his voice steady but tinged with pain. "But you've felt it, haven't you? The whispers, the weight of this place. You've always known there was something wrong here. You just didn't want to face it."
Evelyn opened her mouth to argue, but the words died as a sudden chill swept through the room. The flickering candle dimmed, and a faint whisper brushed past her ear, so soft she almost thought she had imagined it.
"Leave," it hissed.
She froze, her pulse pounding in her ears. "What was that?" she whispered, her voice barely audible.
Lucian straightened, his expression darkening. "It's starting," he said grimly. "The house knows you're here. It knows what you're trying to do."
"I'm not trying to do anything!" Evelyn snapped, her voice rising with frustration and fear. "I don't even know why I'm here!"
"Yes, you do," Lucian said, his gaze piercing. "Deep down, you've always known. That's why you came back. That's why you couldn't stay away."
Before Evelyn could respond, the room seemed to shift. The walls creaked as if they were alive, and the shadows stretched and deepened, taking on forms that were almost human. Evelyn stumbled back, her eyes darting to the door, but it slammed shut with a deafening crash.
"Evelyn..."
The whisper came again, louder this time, and the shadows began to move. Shapes materialized from the darkness, figures that were only half-formed, their faces blurred and indistinct. They advanced slowly, their movements unnatural, as if they were being controlled by invisible strings.
Evelyn's breath caught in her throat. "What… what are they?" she managed to choke out.
"Spirits," Lucian said, stepping closer to her. "Fragments of the souls trapped here. They're bound to the house, just like I am. And they'll do anything to keep the curse intact."
Evelyn shook her head, her mind racing. "This isn't real," she muttered. "This can't be real."
"It's real," Lucian said, his voice firm. "And the only way to stop it is to remember. You were part of the ritual that created this curse, Evelyn. You have to face that."
"I don't remember anything!" Evelyn shouted, her voice breaking. "I don't even know what you're talking about!"
Lucian reached out, his hand brushing against her shoulder. It was cold, almost painfully so, but it grounded her. "You don't remember because they took your memories," he said softly. "They made you forget. But it's all still there, buried inside you. You just have to find it."
Evelyn closed her eyes, trying to block out the shadows, the whispers, the oppressive weight of the house pressing down on her. She didn't want to remember. She didn't want any of this to be real. But deep down, she knew Lucian was right. The memories were there, lurking just beneath the surface, waiting to be uncovered.
The shadows grew closer, their distorted faces twisting with anger and pain. Evelyn's hands clenched into fists, her nails digging into her palms as she fought to keep herself grounded. "How?" she asked, her voice trembling. "How do I remember?"
"Start with the study," Lucian said. "This is where it began."
Evelyn opened her eyes, her gaze shifting to the desk. The symbol etched into the wood seemed to pulse faintly, as if it were alive. She stepped closer, her fingers brushing against the surface. The moment she touched it, a jolt of energy shot through her, and a flood of images filled her mind.
She saw herself standing in the study, her younger self, barely twenty years old. Lucian was there too, his face pale and drawn, his body weak. He was dying, she realized with a jolt. The memory was fragmented, but she could feel the desperation, the overwhelming need to save him at any cost.
"Do you see it?" Lucian asked, his voice pulling her back to the present.
Evelyn nodded, her breath coming in shallow gasps. "You were sick," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I… I was trying to help you."
"You made a deal," Lucian said, his tone heavy with regret. "You performed the ritual to save me. But it wasn't what you thought it was. They lied to you, Evelyn. They used your love for me to bind you to this place."
Evelyn's stomach churned as the fragments of memory began to piece themselves together. She saw the ritual, the circle of candles, the strange symbols drawn on the floor. She heard the chanting, the promises of power and salvation. And then she saw the moment it all went wrong—the surge of energy, the screams, and the dark figures that emerged from the shadows, binding her and Lucian to the house forever.
She staggered back from the desk, her chest heaving as she struggled to breathe. "No," she whispered, shaking her head. "No, this can't be true."
"It is," Lucian said gently. "And now you're the only one who can undo it."
The shadows were almost upon them now, their twisted forms reaching out with clawed hands. Evelyn clenched her fists, forcing herself to meet their hollow gazes. "What do I have to do?" she asked, her voice trembling but resolute.
"Find the ledger," Lucian said. "It's a record of everything. The ritual, the souls bound to this house, the ones who orchestrated it. It's hidden in the west wing. But you have to be careful. The house will do everything it can to stop you."
Evelyn nodded, her fear giving way to determination. She didn't fully understand what was happening, but she knew one thing: she couldn't let the shadows win. She had to face the truth, no matter how painful it was.
"Let's go," she said, turning toward the door.
Lucian hesitated, his gaze lingering on her for a moment. "Stay close to me," he said. "And whatever happens, don't stop. Don't look back."
Evelyn nodded, her heart pounding as she followed Lucian out of the study and into the darkness beyond. The whispers grew louder, the shadows pressing in around them, but she kept moving forward, her resolve unshaken.
She didn't know what she would find in the west wing, but she knew one thing for certain: the only way out was through.