ONE NIGHT IN THE CABIN HOUSE (Completed and NOW Edited!!...)

12

"What's the problem?" Claire's eyes were wide with fear.

"I can't hold this, knowing it was once someone's head," Gracia cried, her voice trembling.

"Shh, you said she was watching," Justine reminded, her voice urgent. "We need to get this over with."

"Are we even sure about this? I'm scared, she's scared, you're scared. We can't even hold that," Claire said, pointing to the skeletal head with a shiver.

Gracia, steeling herself, gripped the skull tighter. Her resolve hardened despite the terror gnawing at her. 'Get this over with,' was the mantra echoing in her mind. She approached them with the grim object.

Justine glanced at the empty sockets of the skull. "Whoever did this was pure evil."

"No eyes," Claire added, her voice quivering. "Just like the one I saw in the mirror."

Gracia's grip on the skull was white-knuckled as she tried to steady her breathing. Her heart pounded violently. "Get the bones," she instructed the others.

"Now?" Claire asked, her voice barely above a whisper. The thought of the skull's owner lurking nearby was almost too much to bear.

"Yes, now," Gracia insisted.

With slow, deliberate steps, Justine moved toward the cupboard. She hesitated, eyes scanning the back of the cupboard until she spotted the bones—hands and legs. Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes, shuddered, and picked up a bone, refusing to look at it as she returned to the group.

"Gross..." Claire averted her gaze from the bone in Justine's hand.

"Claire, your turn," Gracia said, trying to mask her own rising panic.

Claire nodded, biting her lower lip. Fear gripped her as she approached the cabinet from which she had previously retrieved the bone. After a tense pause, she took the cold, hard bone into her trembling hand, her body shaking as she returned to the others.

"This is awful," Claire complained, her voice strained. "What's next? I can't hold this for too long."

"The next step is to summon her," Gracia said firmly.

"Are we doing it now?" Justine asked, her voice laced with dread.

"No. We need to remain silent for a minute first."

"Why?" Claire's confusion was evident.

"We're calling her presence," Gracia explained. "After the minute of silence, we begin the invocation."

"Oh Lord," Claire sighed deeply, her anxiety palpable.

"Once the silence is observed, we'll start the incantation. Remember, don't let go of Marylou's bones. It could bring something we'll regret," Gracia warned, her knowledge of the ritual hanging heavily in the air. She had seen enough in her research to know the dangers that lay ahead and chose to keep some of it to herself.

"Are we expecting anything frightening during the evocation?" Justine asked, her voice a mix of fear and curiosity.

"I hope not," Gracia replied, quickly averting her gaze. The weight of her knowledge pressed down on her, but she felt it best to keep certain details hidden. "Are we ready?"

"I guess so," Justine said with a shrug, though her eyes betrayed her fear. Suddenly, a loud thump echoed against the wooden wall. The girls jumped, their eyes darting to the source of the noise.

"That sounded like a warning. We should start immediately," Gracia said.

"Wait a minute," Claire interrupted, as if struck by a sudden realization. The others looked at her. "It's not just Marylou's ghost we need to deal with. You mentioned seeing Sarah's ghost—bleeding eyelids."

"Right," Justine said, turning to Gracia. "Are we going to deal with hers too?"

"Can we focus on one thing at a time? We're getting distracted," Gracia urged quietly, her patience thinning. The girls didn't realize the real danger: Marylou Bellamy was watching them, ready to strike at any moment.

"Besides, Sarah didn't leave any significant traces behind when she died," Gracia said, emphasizing 'significant.' "We don't even know if she died here."

Justine peered at Gracia thoughtfully before speaking. "What's the rush if we're not even sure this will work? It feels like we're about to start something we can't finish. This whole thing seems pointless."

"What seems pointless?" Gracia demanded.

"Summoning a demon and trying to destroy it. How is that even possible? Instead of us destroying it, it could end up destroying us," Justine said, her voice tinged with fear. She imagined Marylou coming for them, just as she had with Bateman. The thought of the cold, dead bone in her hand made her shiver uncontrollably.

"Come to think of it," Claire said, rubbing her neck, "if Marylou's ghost was seen by me, and Sarah's ghost by you, who was the lady Justine saw?"

"Exactly," Justine agreed, confusion and fear evident in her voice. "How many are there?"

"Just Marylou Bellamy and Sarah Michigan," Gracia said, though her uncertainty was clear.

"And the boys," Claire added, her voice trembling. "What if they died too?"

"What we should be more concerned about is that we're holding Marylou's bones in the place where her ghost resides," Gracia said. "We're putting ourselves at risk. Now is the time to—"

"Fine, I'm in," Justine cut in, determined to at least try and escape this nightmare.

"Are you?" Gracia asked Claire, who hesitated before finally nodding.

"Shall we begin?"

Gracia took a deep breath, relieved that they had agreed. "We must observe a minute of silence and then begin the incantation. Remember, never let go of what you're holding," she reiterated.

Claire looked at the bones in her hands, her heart racing. "Okay."

"Let's get on with it," Gracia said. The girls avoided eye contact for a moment before closing their eyes and falling silent. An unsettling presence filled the room, palpable and oppressive. Gracia began the incantation, her voice steady despite the fear. "Come Marylou Bellamy, we summon you. Do as we wish and leave this planet forever."

The girls repeated the words, their voices trembling. A strange, haunting whistle filled the air, growing louder and echoing from all directions. Claire missed a line but quickly covered up. As the whistling intensified, whispers, screams, and eerie laughter intermingled, creating a cacophony of terror. The bones in their hands felt alive, writhing and pulsating. Sweat dripped from Justine's forehead as she fought to hold on. Claire's voice faltered, but Gracia remained resolute, her eyes open to the horrors unfolding before her.

Gracia saw visions of Sarah's torment: her tortured body, blood streaming, eyes red with pain. Marylou's frantic actions in the room were clear—she tore paper, hid books, and tried to maintain her composure as she was attacked. The brutal scene of Marylou's death played out before Gracia's eyes, a horrific testament to the suffering inflicted upon her.

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