Echoes of the Abyss || ✓

Chapter 4: The Séance

The sun had set, casting long shadows across the town as Laura and her friends gathered in her living room. The events of the past days weighed heavily on their minds and despite their victory at Blackwood Manor, an unsettling feeling lingered. The journal's destruction had not quelled their curiosity, and the mystery of the shadows continued to haunt them.

"We need to know more," Laura said, breaking the silence. "I can't stop thinking about what we found. The shadows, the whispers... there's something we're missing."

Alex, Sarah, and Mark exchanged uneasy glances. The idea of delving further into the supernatural was daunting, but their shared experiences had bound them together in a pact of understanding and determination.

"How do we do that?" Mark asked, his voice tinged with reluctance.

"There's one way," Sarah suggested, her eyes glinting with a mix of fear and excitement. "A séance. If we can communicate with the spirits, maybe they can tell us what really happened."

The room fell silent. The idea of a séance was both thrilling and terrifying. They knew it was risky, but their curiosity outweighed their fear.

"Alright," Laura agreed, her resolve firm. "We'll do it tonight. Let's gather everything we need."

They spent the next hour preparing for the séance. Laura's living room was transformed into a dimly lit chamber of mystique. Candles were placed strategically around the room, their flickering flames casting eerie shadows on the walls. A round table was set in the center, draped with a dark cloth, and a hastily drawn pentagram adorned the surface.

The friends took their seats around the table, holding hands to form a circle. The tension in the room was palpable, and the flickering candlelight accentuated the anxiety etched on their faces.

"Everyone ready?" Laura asked, her voice steady despite the racing of her heart.

They nodded, and Laura began to recite a chant she had found in one of Dr. Blackwood's notebooks. The words were foreign, their meaning unknown, but the incantation carried a weight that resonated deep within them.

The atmosphere grew thick, and the temperature in the room seemed to drop. The candle flames danced wildly as if reacting to an unseen force. Laura's chant grew louder, more insistent, and the air hummed with an electric charge.

Then, without warning, the candles blew out, plunging the room into darkness. The friends gasped, their grip on each other tightening.

"Stay calm," Laura whispered, though her own fear was evident in her voice.

In the pitch blackness, they heard it—a faint, disembodied voice calling out. "Laura..."

A shiver ran down Laura's spine. The voice was distant yet unmistakable. It repeated her name, growing louder and more insistent with each iteration.

"Laura..."

"Who's there?" Laura called, her voice trembling. "What do you want?"

For a moment, there was silence. Then, Laura felt it—a cold hand brushing against her cheek, sending a jolt of fear through her body. She recoiled, breaking the circle as her heart raced.

"Did you feel that?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper.

"I did," Sarah replied, her voice shaking. "Something touched you."

Mark and Alex remained silent, their eyes wide with fear. The room seemed to close in around them, the darkness pressing against their senses.

"Laura," the voice called again, this time with a chilling clarity. "You must listen."