Chapter 3: Bound in Darkness

Daniel could feel the house shifting beneath his feet, the floor trembling as if it were breathing, alive with something ancient and malevolent. Every corner, every shadow in Thornwood now seemed sentient, watching him, whispering to him. His heartbeat thundered in his ears, yet the whispers drowned out the sound of his own panic.

He tried to focus, gripping the iron nails in his pocket, a small but symbolic defense against the dark forces at play. He couldn't go back down to the underground chamber. He knew whatever was imprisoned there, whatever Amelia had disturbed, was no longer bound by the walls of that room. It was everywhere now.

Daniel moved cautiously through the corridors, every step calculated. He couldn't let the whispers take hold of his mind, but it was becoming harder. Their dissonant voices drilled into his skull, muddling his thoughts. He needed a plan, a way out—but more importantly, he needed to stop whatever he had unleashed.

He reached the grand staircase, but as he began to descend, the house responded violently. The walls groaned, and the stairs twisted unnaturally beneath him. He grabbed the banister just as the floor beneath his feet shifted like sand, threatening to swallow him whole.

"You cannot leave," the voices hissed in unison.

Daniel's body tensed as the house pulsed with rage. Every door he tried to open slammed shut before he could touch it. He stumbled through the halls, each step a desperate attempt to find a way out, but the house seemed to lead him in circles. He was trapped in a living nightmare.

"Show yourself!" Daniel shouted, his voice echoing through the decaying halls. The whispers responded with manic laughter, mocking him, taunting him. He had released something ancient, something far beyond his understanding, and now it had control.

Suddenly, a door creaked open at the end of the hall. Daniel froze. It was the door to the master bedroom—the room where Margaret Evans had last been seen, the one place in the house no one had dared enter since the family's disappearance.

Compelled by some unseen force, Daniel felt his feet move toward the door, his mind screaming in protest, but his body obeyed. The whispers grew louder as he stepped inside.

The bedroom was eerily preserved, as though time had stopped the moment Margaret had left it. A thick layer of dust coated the furniture, and the air was thick with decay. But there, at the center of the room, was something new—a large mirror, its surface cracked and warped.

In the reflection, Daniel didn't see his own face. Instead, he saw the twisted figure from the basement, standing behind him. Its glowing eyes bored into him, and its lips curled into a grotesque smile.

"You brought me back," the creature whispered, its voice a sickening chorus of every person who had ever stepped foot inside the house. "Now, I am part of you."

Daniel's reflection began to shift. His skin paled, his eyes hollowed, and his body twisted into the same hunched, deformed figure that had haunted him since entering Thornwood. He tried to look away, but his gaze was locked in the reflection. His fingers gripped the sides of the mirror, unable to break free.

"No…" he gasped, his voice cracking. "I won't let you take me."

"You have no choice," the creature said. "This house, this prison, has fed on fear and souls for centuries. And now, you will be part of it, like those before you."

As Daniel fought to pull away, the whispers reached a fever pitch. Faces appeared in the mirror—familiar ones. Amelia's pale, terrified visage, Margaret Evans' hollow eyes, and countless others who had been swallowed by Thornwood over the years. Their mouths moved in silent screams, each one trapped within the mirror's cold, reflective surface.

In a surge of defiance, Daniel yanked himself free from the mirror's hold and stumbled back, gasping for breath. His eyes darted around the room, looking for any way to escape the growing darkness that pressed in on him. The walls began to close in, the house physically shrinking, as though it was consuming him alive.

He had to end this—now.

Daniel fumbled for the Bible in his bag, his hands shaking as he opened it to the first page. His knowledge of ancient folklore had led him here, and now he needed to use what little power he had to try and stop the creature from fully escaping its prison. If the house was alive, if it was truly bound to this ancient entity, there had to be something, some ritual or exorcism, that could stop it.

But the whispers only laughed.

"You think you can stop me?" the creature's voice boomed, no longer confined to whispers. It echoed through the house, shaking the walls. "This place is mine, and so are you."

The temperature in the room plummeted, and a cold wind swept through, extinguishing Daniel's flashlight. In the darkness, the figure loomed larger, its presence suffocating. Daniel held the Bible close, muttering verses under his breath, trying to keep his mind focused, but the whispers were too loud.

The house began to shake violently, dust and debris falling from the ceiling. The mirror cracked further, the glass warping as if the souls trapped inside were trying to break free. Daniel felt the ground shift beneath him, and he fell to his knees, clutching the Bible as his last defense.

In a final act of desperation, Daniel reached into his bag and grabbed the salt, scattering it across the floor in a wide circle around him. He recited an old incantation he had once read, a last-ditch effort to ward off the evil that surrounded him.

The creature paused, its glowing eyes narrowing. For the first time, it seemed… hesitant.

The house stopped shaking, the whispers grew quieter, and the figure faded slightly, its form flickering in and out of existence. Daniel could feel the power of the salt, the old symbols of protection holding the entity at bay.

But it wasn't enough.

"You cannot keep me away forever," the creature hissed, retreating into the shadows, its voice still laced with malice. "I will return. And when I do, I will consume everything you love."

Daniel, exhausted and shaking, stood up, his eyes locked on the mirror. The faces inside it were watching him, pleading silently for release. He knew now what he had to do.

He lifted the Bible and swung it against the mirror with all his strength.

The glass shattered, and the room was filled with a deafening scream—a cacophony of voices, all released at once. The pressure in the house broke, the walls stopped moving, and the darkness seemed to lift, if only slightly.

Daniel stood amidst the shards of the broken mirror, panting, his heart racing. The whispers had stopped. The house was silent once more.

But he knew the creature wasn't gone. It had simply retreated, biding its time, waiting for another chance to escape.

Daniel staggered to the front door, his mind reeling from the ordeal. As he stepped out into the fog, the cold air hit his face like a slap. Thornwood loomed behind him, dark and silent, but he could still feel its presence, watching, waiting.

He would leave Thornwood, but the house would never leave him.

As Daniel walked down the path, his thoughts were consumed with a single, haunting truth:

The house still whispered.

And it always would.

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