I flipped slowly through page after page of ancient text. Spells and stories and names filled every space of the grimoire. I had no clue which of these countless pages held the answers I sought after.
My focus on the book was broken as I heard the sound of shattering glass from somewhere upstairs. I leapt off the couch and to my feet, the book clutched tightly in my hands. Something else shattered and I wondered if I should go check on it, see what was going on.
Shaking my head, I sat back down on the couch, hoping to ignore it. It didn't matter anymore, whatever was being broken was a just material possession. Things could be replaced. I couldn't afford to get distracted.
As I opened the book once more, pain shot through me. It was like a strong, stabbing sensation behind my eyes. I clutched the edges of the book harder as my eyes closed.
As my eyes shut, my thoughts seemed to change of their own accord. I could see blood splattering the walls, hear screams of agony, even see blood coating my own hands. It was like a seductive lullaby, calling me to forgo my mission to save those who were stuck in Rosenheim and trap more in the house.
It was the Evil, I knew it was. The more time I wasted, the more it seeped into me. The more it took control of me. Already it was in my veins, like a disease in my blood.
I opened my eyes again, the pain unceasing.
"I won't stop. Not for anything. I've come to far." I began to turn the pages again when I finally spotted it, a way to fix everything.
My heart sped up. This was it. This was what I was looking for! I read over it with excitement.
"I can do this. I can--" the book was ripped from my hands by an unseen force. The lights shattered just as the book hit the far wall.
I jumped up in fear. The house was suddenly dark and quiet. Far too quiet. But I could feel them near me, all the spirits in the house that didn't want me to succeed.
And I knew it, the Evil presence, was waiting. Waiting for me to be stopped.
"I don't want you to leave me, Fox." Tate's voice was so close, as if he were whispering in my ear. "I won't let you." A shiver ran down my spine at the menace in his words.
Before I could reply to him, I was knocked off my feet and slammed onto the floor. I hit the ground hard.
"Tate!" I called to him desperately as I pushed myself to my feet. "Stop! Don't do this!"
Something sharp was pressed against the skin of my cheek and dragged down in a jagged line. I hissed in pain and swatted blindly in the dark, trying to push whatever or whoever it was away.
"We're not going anywhere, little girl." Came some woman's voice as I was slapped so hard I was forced a few steps backwards.
This was it. I knew it then, this was it.
Right now, tonight, the house had decided to make its final stand.
Tonight it ended. Either in my success or my failure.
And no matter what, I wasn't going down easily.
