《World for Lost Souls Amusements》


 The Haunting Voice Phenomenon

    The elevator slowly ascended, its faint hum blending with the tension hanging in the air, as Andrew, an experienced cameraman for one of the country''s top news stations, adjusted the camera on his shoulder, preparing for the task ahead. His mind was filled with millions of doubts, and he couldn''t avoid but feel the weight of that situation. He looked through the viewfinder of his camera, trying to find the focus point, but something caught his eye. The frown on his face was reflected in the polished steel doors that still retained an eighties design.


    "Hey, are you okay? You look stressed," the voice of Diana, his fellow reporter, brought him out of his trance. She was gesturing with her hands, trying to capture his attention.


    Andrew blinked, trying to clear his mind. "Huh? ... yeah, I''m fine..." he replied, but his voice betrayed his unease. "It''s just... I don''t know if we''re doing the right thing, Diana." He paused, his fingers gripping the edge of the camera tightly. "Is it appropriate to bother a widow who just lost her son? It''s only been a week. Maybe we should just... leave her be. She''s already been through hell."


    Diana watched him for a moment, weighing his words and gave a small, reassuring smile, attempting to steer the conversation to safer ground. "I know, Andrew. It''s tough. But sometimes talking can be the best way to heal. Maybe we''ll help her more than we think." But even she knew her response was hollow, a justification that didn''t fully convince her own conscience.


    The conversation faded into an uncomfortable silence as the elevator continued its ascent, each illuminated number bringing them closer to the inevitable...


    When they reached the seventh floor, the elevator doors opened with a soft ''ding''. Diana leaped out quickly, as if trying to shake off the unease that clung to her. "Let''s get a shot of the deceased''s apartment door before Mrs. Collins answers," she instructed, her voice firmer now that she had a clear task.


    Andrew brought the camera into focus and began to film: a white door, aged and yellowed with time, with a small, rusted plaque bearing the number ''7B''. There was something menacing in that, the years seemed to have worked their magic on the wood, instilling it with a sense of weight and sorrow. Diana pressed the doorbell and stepped back while she waited for an answer that never materialized. She knocked again, this time with her knuckles.


    "Hello? Is anyone home? Mrs. Collins, we''re from Channel 13. We''d like to ask you a few questions, please open the door!" The door creaked open slowly, revealing an elderly woman. Her eyes, tired and full of pain, met Diana''s. "Please, go away... leave me alone" Mrs. Collins whispered, her voice cracking as she prepared to close the door again.


    Diana, using the persuasive charm that had made her stand out in her career, softened her tone. "We understand this is difficult, Mrs. Collins. But perhaps talking about it will help you unburden yourself. Just a few questions, and then we''ll leave you in peace, okay?" The old woman looked at them in silence, her gaze shifting between the two as if weighing their intentions. Finally, she let out a small sigh and opened the door fully. "Alright... come in but keep it quiet."


    The inside of the apartment had told a whole different story from the outside of the building. Mrs. Collins''s apartment was small and snug, but there seemed to be heaviness in the air inside; painful memories that it had endured seemed soaked right into the walls. Andrew took a deep breath; the smell of dampness and dust filling his lungs, evoking the atmosphere of an old house that had seen better days.


    "Can I offer you something? Tea, coffee?" Mrs. Collins asked, her voice barely above a whisper in the stillness of the place. Andrew declined with a slight shake of his head, but Diana, ever the polite one, accepted. "A little coffee would be nice, thank you."


    While the woman went to the kitchen, Diana promptly took advantage of her absence and began to curiously explore the apartment in search of something that could give context to the story. Framed diplomas were hanging on the wall, well-organized art books stood on a shelf, hand-painted landscapes. The coffee table was full of family photos, there was a great collection of CDs standing in a rack nearby, and the TV playing a nature documentary. The background noise contributing to the strange atmosphere.


    Andrew noticed a newspaper on a side table, and its headline caught his eye: ''He jumped from a fourth floor in broad daylight''. Diana glanced over his shoulder, sighing in lament.


    "Poor boy... Joshua didn''t deserve to die like that. Why do you think he did it?"


    Andrew frowned, whispering as he analyzed the headline. "No idea... and the police have not found any reason why he committed suicide, so-"


    The soft footsteps of Mrs. Collins became audible as she approached with the cup of coffee. "Hurry, she''s coming! Act natural..." Diana whispered, putting quickly the newspaper back in its place and sat down on the sofa, trying to act natural.


    Mrs. Collins returned with a steaming cup of coffee, which she handed to Diana before settling into an old rocking chair that creaked under her weight. "So, what brings you here?" Mrs. Collins asked with her eyes fixed on Diana with a mix of distrust and resignation.


    Diana took a sip of the coffee, pretending to be more at ease than she felt. "We''d like to do a brief interview, if that''s alright with you. We want to know more about your son, Joshua Collins, and what he was doing before... well, you know..." she left the sentence hanging, not wanting to push too hard.


    Mrs. Collins stared at the floor for a few moments, then looked up at Andrew and his camera. "I suppose if there''s no other choice... there''s nothing to lose by trying."


    Andrew adjusted the camera and began recording, the lens focusing on the tired face of the elderly woman. Diana leaned in slightly, her tone gentler now. "Mrs. Collins, we know this is difficult, but we want to help tell Joshua''s story. Could you tell us a little about him? Tell us a little about Joshua''s life, his studies, how he was in the days leading up to his... passing?"


    The old woman sighed deeply, her eyes filling with a sorrow too deep to measure. "Joshua... he was a good boy. Always was. He had such a talent for acting, you know? I was so proud when he got that role in the animated series. ''Captain Nova''s Cosmic Adventures'', they called it. He was very excited when he was chosen to replace Alexander Finch as the voice actor in the animated series. It was his big break."


    Diana nodded, encouraging her to continue. "How did Joshua feel about being chosen? How was that experience for him?"


    "At first, he was nervous," Mrs. Collins continued. "Alexander Finch''s voice was iconic, and the change was difficult for fans. He received a lot of criticism initially, but Joshua worked hard, and over time, people began to accept his voice. They even started to like the character more. The series became very popular throughout the eastern part of the country."


    "But was there any change in him in the last few days? Anything out of the ordinary?" Diana asked, trying to steer the conversation towards the mysterious last episode.


    Mrs. Collins nodded slowly, her gaze distant, as if reliving the pain. "Joshua started acting strangely... like something was bothering him. He said he heard things, voices through the headphones when he recorded his voice for the show. At first, I thought it was just stress, but then... one night, he told me something was wrong with the episode they were working on."


    "What kind of problem?" Diana asked, intrigued


    Mrs. Collins hesitated, her hands trembling slightly over the cup of coffee. "Everything changed after that episode" she whispered, as if saying it aloud caused her pain. "Joshua wasn''t well after that. That... thing that appeared on the screen, that emaciated figure... it wasn''t part of the show. The people who saw the episode started hallucinating, some having insomnia, nightmares or sleep paralysis."


    Intrigued, Andrew leaned in a little closer "And Joshua? How did it affect him?"


    "He was terrified" Mrs. Collins said, her voice breaking with anguish. "He said that thing... that creature... was haunting his dreams, that he couldn''t escape it. He tried to talk to his superiors, but they didn''t take him seriously. They said it was sabotage in the animation, but he knew that something else was wrong. So, he took his camera and recorded as much of the episode as he could, but..."


    Diana tried to hide the chill that ran down her spine. "I understand... Can we see the recording he made?"


    Mrs. Collins looked at her intently, her eyes filled with deep pain. "No... I don''t want you to see it. I don''t want you to end up like him!" The old woman rose slowly, as if her body could no longer bear the weight of her memories. "I''m going out... I need some fresh air. You''re... you''re welcome to stay if you want."


    Andrew and Diana remained in the living room, watching Mrs. Collins as she left the apartment. Diana let out a long sigh, her mind still processing everything they had just heard.


    Andrew leaned forward, running a hand through his hair. "What do we do now?" he asked, his voice low and uncertain. His mind was swimming with doubts, fear gnawing at the edges of his thoughts. "We can''t do much more without that video... right?"


    Diana turned to face him; her eyes sharp with resolve. "That''s why we must get it, Andrew."


    Andrew''s brow furrowed in confusion. "W-What?! Why would we-"


    "Shhh! Keep your voice down," Diana hissed, glancing nervously toward the door. "She''ll hear us. Look, we can''t show up at the news station with some clich¨¦d ghost story and expect anyone to believe us. We need proof. And that video? That''s our proof."


    If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    Andrew''s mouth opened in protest, but the words got caught in his throat. "You... you want to steal it?" His voice trembled with disbelief. "Diana, we can''t just go through her stuff..."


    "Andrew, listen to me," she cut him off, her voice firm but not unkind. "I know it''s risky. But do you really think anyone will take us seriously without evidence? If we don''t find that video, we''re just two more idiots chasing shadows. Trust me... I know what I''m doing."


    He stared at her, torn between his principles and the adrenaline building in his chest. He had always been the cautious one, the moral compass in situations like these. But now, seeing the determination in Diana''s eyes, his curiosity began to outweigh his sense of right and wrong.


    After a moment of hesitation, Andrew sighed, his shoulders slumping in defeat. "Alright... but this is crazy..."


    "Just distract her," Diana urged, her voice softer now, almost pleading. "I won''t be long."


    With one last nervous glance toward the door, Andrew nodded and rose to his feet. His heart pounded in his chest as he headed toward the hallway, mentally rehearsing some kind of distraction to keep Mrs. Collins occupied.


    The moment he was out of sight, Diana sprang into action, moving quickly, yet with great caution. Her footsteps light, she approached the bookshelf, her fingers brushing the spines of dusty novels as she looked for anything odd. She tugged several books halfway out, angling them to see if anything was obscured behind their covers. Nothing caught her eye. The pulse in her wrist quickened with every second that ticked by.


    She hunched over to a small wooden cabinet on the far corner, her fingers quivering as she silently pulled open the first drawer. Papers, old receipts, letters, and stacks of notebooks were neatly done inside, but no camera. Diana flipped through them fast, biting her lip in frustration. She shut the drawer carefully and moved on to the next one.


    In the back of her mind, she could hear Andrew''s voice down the hallway, nervously trying to keep Mrs. Collins engaged in conversation. She had no idea how much time she had before the woman would return, but she knew it wasn''t much.


    The second drawer creaked as she opened it, revealing a jumble of miscellaneous items: keys, a sewing kit, a few loose photographs. Diana''s heart sank. Still nothing. She could feel the anxiety creeping in, the cold sweat forming on her brow.


    Then, out of the corner of her eye, she spotted something: just a glimpse of metal behind the row of neatly stacked books on the bottom shelf. Diana''s heart leapt. She quickly but carefully pulled out the books, her fingers brushing against the cold surface of what she hoped was the camera. It was a small, memory card, tucked away as if forgotten.


    Meanwhile, Andrew found Mrs. Collins sitting on one of the steps of the stairs, smoking quietly.


    "Is everything alright, Mrs. Collins?" Andrew asked, trying to sound compassionate.


    The elderly woman looked at him, her eyes full of sadness. "It''s hard... living alone, with all these memories. I miss them so much. And to top it off, I''ll have to move in a few weeks to my brother''s house. I don''t have enough money to pay the rent. What little I had went to my son''s burial."


    Andrew felt a pang of sympathy. "I''m so sorry. It''s a tough situation, but maybe... maybe things will get better with time... never lose hope."


    "I hope so, because it hurts so... so much." the woman said as she ran her hands over her face trying to cover her tears.


    Before he could continue, Diana appeared in the doorway. "Mrs. Collins, I''m sorry to interrupt, but we must leave shortly. Thank you for your cooperation!"


    Andrew stood up along with the woman, nodding. "Yes... we''re very grateful."


    "You''re welcome," Mrs. Collins responded as she said goodbye to the two of them.


    As they descended in the elevator, Andrew couldn''t help but ask. "Did you get it? Did you get what you wanted?"


    Diana flashed a satisfied smile, pulling the memory card from her pocket. "What do you think?"


    Andrew looked at her in amazement and let out a shaky breath of relief but still couldn''t shake the gnawing guilt in his stomach. "Let''s just hope it was worth it. Do you think everything the woman said is true? You know... about the show and all that..."


    Diana sighed, slipping the card back into her pocket. "What do you mean? Evil spirits taking over a cartoon? It''s hard to believe... but let''s see what happens... I have seen in an internet article that in recent weeks psychologists'' offices are full, and suicide rates have increased on this side of the country... maybe these cases are connected in some way."


    As Diana spoke, Andrew''s mind was racing with the suffering woman, and he felt sorry, guilty. This was because he had stolen from a poor old lady just to save his job, which left him with a bad taste in his mouth. However, he was brought out of his trance by the ringing of the elevator upon reaching the base floor as the doors opened to let the other residents in as they exited. Walking towards the van, both were lost in reflective silence.


    "So, what now?" Andrew asked as they climbed into the van.


    "All that''s left is to see what''s really on that tape," Diana replied, her thoughts already focused on what might be discovered when they reviewed the mysterious video.


    The van pulled away, taking them back to the studio, where what they had experienced during that visit would become the centerpiece of a story they would never forget.


    As he drove, Andrew glanced briefly at his companion, who was leaning on his arm as she looked out the window. His gaze was lost in the things that were coming and going.


    Andrew trying to break the ice between the two said: "So... what do you plan to do with the video next?"


    "Umm... well, I''m not sure... I guess I''ll send it to be edited." Diana answered with an excited tone, but deep down, she was afraid that what Mrs. Collins said was true.


    "I mean what do you think is going to happen when all this comes out when we get to the news station?"


    "I don''t know, Andrew... I guess we''ll have to-"


    "What if this video has some kind of effect on people? I''m not implying that Mrs. Collins''s tale is true, but we can''t take the risk..."


    "Ugh! ... okay, I''ll watch the recording first... alone, if that makes you feel better. If something happens, if something goes wrong, which it won''t.... it''s better to lose one than thousands. Happy?"


    At that moment Andrew was left with the words on the tip of his tongue when Diana turned towards the window. Andrew wanted to continue the conversation, but between tiredness and the need to pay attention to the road, he decided to cut the conversation short. The silence was filled by the music of the radio, as the evening light streamed through the van''s tinted windows. The pair of journalists headed towards an uncertain future, with a mystery in their hands that was about to be revealed if it was true or not.


    Upon arrival, Andrew parked the van near the fountain that graced the entrance to the building. After removing all the equipment and materials from the van, the couple made their way to a large, well-appointed reception area, with little activity at the moment. However, the sparkling windows, well-polished floor, and the echo of voices that still lingered greeted them once again. Diana and Andrew quickly made their way to the press room, the place where they would organize the information they had gathered and work on writing their article.


    After polishing and organizing all the data, Diana gathered her belongings and got up from her desk, walking between the rows of workstations until she reached Andrew''s. "I''m leaving early to do what we agreed on. If Shawn asks, tell him not to worry about the video. I''ll edit it and email it to him as soon as possible." Diana said as she walked away.


    "Wait! Are you sure you''re going to watch it alone?" Andrew asked before she left "We can watch it together if you want..."


    Diana gave Andrew a mocking look before answering "I can do it alone, you know?... I''ll be fine, you''ll see that nothing will happen."


    Diana left Andrew at his desk while the door closed behind Diana''s back, he tried to convince himself that everything would be fine, but he couldn''t stop thinking of the worst.


    Diana reached what she called home with great reluctance and rested heavily against the door, closing her eyes for a second. She had survived another grueling day, an accomplishment in itself. Information from people, at times, seemed to be drawn out like their teeth; how was it so difficult to have someone open up? The truth was always buried beneath many layers of fear or guilt.


    She took a deep breath as her eyes scanned the cluttered space of her small apartment. Papers lay everywhere, old takeout containers, half-finished notebooks-the floor seemed to be a mess. The mess didn''t faze her; she dropped her keys, bag, and files on the cramped table by the entrance. Cleaning up was not something that bothered her. Tonight, there wasn''t time for that, and truthfully, not even the will to do so.


    She peeled off her work clothes, slipping into a soft, comfortable, faded hoodie and sweatpants, and walked into the kitchen. With a soft sigh, she let her laptop drop onto the counter, perching herself on one of the high stools, folding her legs underneath her. Her fingers moved almost mechanically to insert the memory card into the laptop as her mind prepared itself for another long night. She slipped on her headphones and dove into work.


    Folders opened one by one: photos, videos, data... all mundane so far. Until her fingers paused. A particular video thumbnail caught her eye, and for a moment, she hesitated. Against her better judgment, she clicked on it. The screen flickered to life with the image of Joshua, his wide grin lighting up the room as his mother sang him "Happy Birthday!" He was just a kid, blowing out the candles on a homemade cake. The scene was almost too perfect, a snapshot of a life that seemed so normal, so... happy.


    Joshua used to be happy. What changed? Why had he thrown it all away? Why had he destroyed everything?


    Diana felt a lump in her throat, and before she could stop herself, she wiped her eyes with the sleeve of her hoodie, smudging the tears that threatened to fall. She had ripped open old wounds for Joshua''s mother, Mrs. Collins, had probably taken the last piece of solace the woman had left her memories of her son. And for what? For a case? For justice?


    Her heart clenched in guilt, but she forced herself to keep going. She had a job to do. With trembling hands, Diana scrolled past the happy moment frozen in time and continued her search. Finally, she found the folder she had been looking for. She took a deep breath, steeling herself.


    "At least you''ll get the justice you deserve, Joshua," she whispered under her breath, as if speaking to him would somehow absolve her of the guilt.


    Everything was going smoothly until it wasn''t. Her eyes locked onto the screen, and her pulse quickened as she watched the footage unfold. There was something there, something Mrs. Collins had described, but it couldn''t be real. She replayed the moment. Again. Then again. The video showed what should''ve been impossible. "W-What...the fuck?" she whispered, her breath catching in her throat. "This can''t be real. It must be faked."


    She watched, her hands shaking, as the creature materialized in the video, just as Mrs. Collins had said. At first, it seemed like a glitch, a distortion, but then it moved. And it spoke. The voice that came through her headphones was overwhelming, an amalgamation of voices, layered and distorted, all speaking in unison. It rattled her skull, a deep, resonant noise that felt like it was drilling straight into her brain.


    "Stop!" Diana cried, yanking the headphones off and shoving the laptop to the edge of the counter. Her heart pounded in her chest as the sound echoed in her mind, refusing to fade even after the headphones were discarded. She stood there, frozen, trying to catch her breath. Her hands were trembling, her mind racing. What had she just witnessed? And how was it possible? How could something created by humans, just video footage, affect people like this? How could it feel so... real?


    The rational part of her mind screamed that it was fake, a hoax, some sort of digital trickery. But deep down, she knew it wasn''t. Her gut twisted with the certainty that this was something far worse. She had seen it. Felt it. And now, she couldn''t unsee it.


    But despite the fear that gnawed at her, the sheer terror that gripped her heart, Diana knew she had to keep going. There was something here, something that no one had seen, that no one knew about. And if she didn''t bring it to light, it would remain in the shadows, festering, growing more dangerous.


    She swallowed her fear and slowly, hesitantly, reached for the headphones again. Her fingers hovered over the keys, trembling as she prepared to confront the unspeakable once more.


    She was about to face an evil that no one had seen, that no one knows...

 Exploration

    Jeremy walked slowly through the halls of the dorm; his gaze fixed on the notebook he held open in his hands. It was early, the sun was rising, illuminating the dusty windows with a golden hue. The air was still cool, permeated with the smell of coffee and soap as students began to wake up. He had just left his computer science class, where they had discussed complex algorithms, but his mind was elsewhere. Perhaps he was doing some calculations for an equation, maybe he was completing a task he had left half-done, or he could be doodling some fleeting sketch in his notebook, who knows? Jeremy has always been a walking whirlwind of ideas. His roommate and childhood best friend, Alex, was still sleeping as if the day hadn¡¯t even begun yet.


    When he reached the last bedroom on the left side of the hall, Jeremy pushed open the door with his shoulder, both hands still occupied with his notebook and pen. He didn''t bother to be stealthy; it wouldn''t be the first time he''d woken him up rudely.


    ¡®Wake up, sleeping beauty, you''re going to be late again!¡± he said sarcastically as he prepared for his next class, not even looking up from his notebook.


    Alex, with his eyes still half-closed and his head buried in the pillow, muttered confusedly:


    ¡°What...? What time is it?¡±


    ¡°It''s time for you to get out of that bed, your speech exam starts in fifteen minutes... again.¡±


    With a start, Alex threw off his sheets and jumped out of bed, panic on his face.


    The bedroom was small and messy, with the unmistakable marks of the lives of two college students who didn''t care much for order. Their beds were a bunk bed pushed up against the far wall, Alex''s bed with the sheets tangled and wrinkled as if it had been hit by a storm. Jeremy''s, on the other hand, was kept relatively tidy, although the pile of books and papers scattered around it betrayed his constant academic activity.


    A bookshelf to the left of the room held a mix of textbooks, video games, and a collection of action figures from both of their childhoods. Posters of sci-fi movies and rock bands covered the walls, giving the place a youthful, chaotic feel. The only hint of order was the desk by the window, where Jeremy usually studied. The light streaming in illuminated the tangled cords of chargers and laptops, along with a forgotten cup of coffee from the day before.


    While Alex hurried to shower and get dressed, Jeremy flipped through his notes, preparing for what was coming next. Minutes later, Alex came running out of the bathroom, his hair still wet and a piece of toast hanging from his mouth. He grabbed his backpack and bolted out the half-open door. ¡°See you!¡± he called out as he left, leaving the door just ajar.


    Jeremy sighed, getting up to close the door completely. He looked around the messy room and headed to his small desk by the window, determined to make the most of the time before his next class. The air was still, and the noise of the university city barely reached his ears. He was so focused that he didn¡¯t realize how much time had passed until he looked up and saw the clock on the corner of the desk: it was already late for his second class, Advanced Data Structures.


    ¡°Shit!¡± he exclaimed, jumping out of his chair and grabbing his backpack.


    He stormed out of the room, slamming the door shut. As he ran through the halls of the dorm, the sounds of college life intensified around him: animated conversations, hurried footsteps, and the distant clatter of dishes coming from the cafeteria. The hallways were long and narrow, with white walls, now yellowed and worn, decorated with advertisements for student events and posters for local bands. The tall windows let in natural light, but it wasn¡¯t enough to fully illuminate the darker corners of the building; that was taken care of by the long incandescent lights hanging from the ceiling.


    Arriving at his faculty building, Jeremy nearly slipped as he turned the corner in the hallway, right in front of the classroom door. Breathing heavily, he paused for a second, trying to appear calmer before entering. He turned the handle and quietly opened the door, trying not to attract attention.


    The classroom was a large amphitheater, with rows of seats arranged in steep tiers that seemed to stretch endlessly upward. The students¡¯ murmurs filled the air as Jeremy entered dropped into his usual seat. He couldn¡¯t help but notice the professor¡¯s desk was empty. Something strange was going on.


    ¡°Did you hear there¡¯s a new professor?¡± whispered a girl to his left.


    ¡°They say the old one resigned suddenly,¡± said another student, sounding both curious and confused.


    Before Jeremy could gather more information, a tall, slender figure entered the room, silencing the noise with his presence. It was a man with long hair, carefully tied back in a ponytail, but his clothes were immaculate and well-pressed. His voice was clear and authoritative, but not intimidating.


    ¡°Quiet, please! Good morning, students. I¡¯m Mr. Ashbourne, your new professor, and I hope we can get along. Now, if you please, open your textbooks to chapter twelve to continue the class.¡±


    Jeremy watched him with interest, noticing something in the way he moved, as if he were not only comfortable but also evaluating each student with an unsettling precision as he wrote on the board. As expected, the professor launched into a tedious monologue, as if everyone present knew what he was talking about. The classroom quickly filled with the competitive sound of graphite against paper, trying to catch anything useful from the air.


    Jeremy was submerged in class, the professor¡¯s voice barely registering as he flipped through his notes. Suddenly, his phone vibrated in his pocket. Without drawing too much attention, he glanced at it: a message from his mom: "We hope you have some free time this weekend, maybe you can come home. We miss you so much..."


    Jeremy sighed. A wave of homesickness hit him for a moment, but there was no time to dwell on it now. He was too immersed in Data Structures class to think about weekends for now. He put his phone away, pushing the thought of going home aside to concentrate on the code his professor was drawing on the board.


    Class ended without incident and Jeremy quickly gathered his things. When he stood up and grabbed his notebook, all the pages filled with sketches of paranormal creatures and doodles he made when he was bored, slid off and scattered across the floor. ¡°Dang it!¡± Jeremy quickly knelt, trying to gather the mess, but before he could retrieve them all, Mr. Ashbourne was already beside him, helping to pick up the papers.


    ¡°Interesting sketches¡­¡± the professor remarked, glancing at one of the pages before handing it to Jeremy. ¡°You¡¯re into this kind of stuff?¡±


    Jeremy nodded, feeling a little embarrassed. ¡°Yeah, it¡¯s just a hobby.¡±


    Mr. Ashbourne smiled, but there was something in his gaze that made Jeremy feel exposed.


    ¡°Curious. I have the same interest. I investigate things... out of the ordinary, you could say.¡±


    Jeremy, feeling uncomfortable with the revelation, tried to change the subject, but the professor continued. ¡°You have a good eye for detail. These creatures¡­ they¡¯re quite accurate.¡±


    ¡°Thanks, I guess,¡± Jeremy mumbled, feeling more and more uneasy. Before he could leave, the professor looked at him more closely.


    ¡°Your face seems familiar to me,¡± Mr. Ashbourne said suddenly. ¡°You¡¯re the one always hanging out with Alexander, don¡¯t you?¡±


    Jeremy frowned, surprised. ¡°Pardon? How do you know him?¡± Jeremy commented, trying to keep the conversation casual as he gathered up the last of the papers.


    ¡°Oh! Don¡¯t mind me, you¡¯ll see. I don¡¯t want to spoil the surprise... Umm, What¡¯s your name again?¡±


    ¡°Jeremy¡­ Jeremy Orwell¡± Jeremy said, unsure of what else to say. He felt a strange mix of sympathy and suspicion toward the man. The professor¡¯s interest in the symbols and the paranormal unsettled him more than he wanted to admit.


    ¡°Well, Jeremy¡­ it¡¯s a pleasure to meet you. If you ever need help with your projects... whether class-related or otherwise, don¡¯t hesitate to find me,¡± Mr. Ashbourne added, his tone sounding more like a warning than an offer. ¡°I am always up for discussing the¡­ unusual.¡±


    ¡°Thanks... I¡¯ll keep that in mind,¡± Jeremy replied, trying to maintain his composure.


    With that, they said their goodbyes, and Jeremy left the classroom, a lingering sense of unease following him as he headed to his favorite study spot: the library.


    As he navigated the crowded halls, dodging fellow students, Jeremy¡¯s feet moved almost automatically while his mind replayed the professor¡¯s words on a loop. A surprise? What on earth did that mean?! Jeremy was the type to get lost in thought, his mind was sharp, bordering on brilliant, but sometimes it left him drifting far from reality. He moved almost dreamlike, his gaze distant, until his wandering eyes stopped on the bulletin board. It was a sudden halt, as he noticed the bold print of a missing persons poster freshly plastered over the layers of other posters and papers that no one bothered to remove before putting up another one. The face on the poster drew him in: Steven Pratt, a familiar classmate from his course, known for being an unassuming but unmistakable nerd.


    Jeremy¡¯s steps slowed as he stared, the world around him dulling. Steven had been missing for three days, yet until that moment, it seemed no one had noticed or cared. A shiver ran through him. It''s horrible¡­ to disappear and have no one notice that you vanished overnight, to disappear and have no one care enough to notice: ¡°what does that say about all of us?¡± But I guess Jeremy had no right to criticize others. He was just as guilty, just as indifferent, like the rest. Sighing, he continued down the hall, his feet moving like snow knowing that time is relentless as he walked toward the large double glass doors that led to his little sanctuary, his mind weighted with a blend of unease and self-reflection.


    The university library was a sanctuary of peace in the middle of everyday chaos. Huge dark wood bookshelves lined the walls up to the ceiling, filled with books of all genres and eras, that smelled of musty pages and dust. The floor creaked underfoot, and the table lamps cast a warm, soft light that created a cozy atmosphere. The air was thick with reverent silence, only occasionally interrupted by the soft sound of pages turning or the quiet click of a keyboard. Jeremy loved studying here; it was one of the few places where he could concentrate without the blaring music from his dormmates. Plus, the internet connection wasn¡¯t as terrible here.


    He sat in his usual spot, a table by the window that overlooked the campus courtyard. He pulled out his laptop and notes, ready to work on his next assignment. But halfway through, he realized he needed a specific book to finish his research. Leaving his things on the table, he made his way to the shelves. The rows of books seemed endless. He walked slowly, running his fingers along the spines until he found the one he needed. But there was one problem: the book was on the top shelf. Jeremy looked around for help. The librarian was on her lunch break and the place was almost deserted. With no other option, he decided to improvise.


    ¡°Please don¡¯t break, please don¡¯t break¡± he muttered to himself as he grabbed a nearby chair.


    It was an old, fragile-looking chair. He carefully climbed onto it, trying to keep his balance as he reached for the book. He managed to grab it, but as soon as he did, the chair gave way. One of the legs broke with a loud crack and Jeremy fell backwards. Trying to hold on to the shelf, he knocked over an entire row of books like dominoes.


    ¡°Fuck, fuck, how embarrassing... I should have seen it coming, what an idiot¡­¡± he thought as he hurriedly stacked the books on a corner, hoping that no one would notice his clumsiness.


    Just as he was about to finish, something caught his eye. Among the scattered books, one stood out: ¡®The Paranormal Chronicles¡¯. It was an old book, with a worn cover and a handwritten title. It looked like a journal, a collection of forgotten mysteries and hidden secrets from the town. Intrigued, Jeremy picked it up and quickly skimmed through it. ¡°This is perfect... Alex is going to love this.¡±


    After gathering the fallen books and leaving the broken chair in a corner, he returned to his desk, finishing his homework hurriedly while his thoughts continued to revolve around the mysterious book. The day flew by, and by the time he finished authoring his report, it was already time for dinner.


    He put away his things and headed to the front desk. The librarian, an older woman with gray hair tied back in a bun, was going through some papers when Jeremy approached with the strange book in hand.


    ¡°Need something, young man? ¡°she asked in her usual kind tone.


    ¡°Yes, I¡¯d like to check out this book, please,¡± Jeremy replied, handing her The Paranormal Chronicles.


    The librarian adjusted her glasses and looked at the book with curiosity. She frowned slightly when she saw the title but said nothing. ¡°This book¡­ Not many people ask for it. It''s a bit of a forgotten gem,¡± she commented as she scanned the barcode.


    ¡°Take good care of it. It¡¯s... an odd one,¡± she said with a small smile, though her eyes hinted at curiosity.


    Jeremy looked at her in surprise but didn''t give it much thought. He took the book, thanked her, and walked out to his bedroom, eager to show the book to Alex.


    When Jeremy returned to the dorm, he found Alex talking on the phone.


    ¡°I¡¯ve got something you¡¯re going to love,¡± Jeremy said excitedly, holding up the book.


    Alex nodded, too preoccupied with his conversation on the phone. As Jeremy placed his backpack on the couch, his ears perked up like a dog''s, paying attention to the conversation Alex was having.


    ¡°Full name? Yes, I¡¯m Alexander Finch¡­¡±


    It was a moment before Alex¡¯s face lit up with excitement. ¡°Wait, are you serious?¡± He listened intently, a wide smile spreading across his face. ¡°Yes, of course! I¡¯d love to¡­ I¡¯ll be there first thing in the morning. Thank you very much, sir!¡±


    After hanging up, Alex practically bounced with joy, turning toward Jeremy. ¡°You¡¯ll never going to believe this¡­I got the job! The voice-acting job for the Cosmic Discovery Park animations!¡±


    Jeremy looked at Alex and raised an eyebrow. ¡°Wait, what? When did you request that?¡±


    Alex laughed and threw his phone onto the bed. ¡°I didn''t tell you because I wasn''t sure I would make it. I love voice acting and this is, like, my dream. I get to be the voice behind one of the main characters!¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s awesome, man!¡± Jeremy said, smiling. ¡°I had no idea you were into that. I always thought you¡¯d stick to paranormal stuff.¡±


    ¡°Well, I can do both, right? Anyway, I start tomorrow!¡± Alex said, his excitement overflowing.


    Jeremy gave him a playful nudge. ¡°I¡¯m happy for you. You¡¯re gonna kill it! But¡­I¡¯m curious ¡­ how does my new professor, Mr. Ashbourne, know about you?¡±


    ¡°Mr. Ashbourne? ¡­ a professor? Well, he was the one who mediated my interview, he also works in the park apparently. Why do you ask?¡±


    ¡°For nothing, nothing... it''s just that he¡¯s a little bit weird... don¡¯t you think?¡±


    ¡°He probably just wanted to be friendly, but you¡¯re right, he could be a little too¡­ enthusiastic sometimes.¡± Alex answered with his arms crossed ¡°Anyway, what was it you wanted to show me?¡±


    ¡°Oh, yes¡­ that thing. Now behold the future fountain of our wisdom!¡±


    Alex turned his head, his expression indifferent, and a sarcastic grin spread across his face.


    ¡°Oh great, a book? Wow, Jeremy, that¡¯s just what I needed after reading all day! Couldn¡¯t be more thrilled,¡± he joked.


    Jeremy smiled, determined to convince him. ¡°Well... if you''re not interested, you can always entertain yourself by going to the laundry to wash all the clothes we''ve accumulated since Monday¡­ with no help ¡®cause I¡¯ll be reading this book.¡±


    ¡°Nice one...¡± Alex laughed as he got up from the couch to look at the book more closely.             ¡°Alright, let''s see what you''ve got!¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s the spirit!¡± Said Jeremy with a sparkle running through his eyes.


    Together, they sat at the table and wasted no time in digging into what was in The Paranormal Chronicles. Filled with stories about supernatural creatures, mysterious relics, and unexplained events that had taken place within the city, hours passed in flipping through the pages in amazement at what they were reading. Jeremy was just fascinated by how they could actually apply that for the blog they ran together on paranormal events. Suddenly, as Alex turned a page, something fell from the book: a loose sheet of paper. He picked it up, curious.


    ¡°Jeremy, check this out!¡± said Alex, setting the book aside and showing him the paper.


    It was a map. Not just any map, but one that marked a nearby location.


    ¡°This is close... well, partially close¡± said Jeremy, recognizing the forest next to the university. He ran to the window and threw it open. ¡°There! That¡¯s the trail!¡±


    ¡°Should we go? We could film something for the blog,¡± Alex suggested, his excitement growing.


    ¡°Not now. It¡¯s getting dark, and we could get lost in¡ª¡± Jeremy''s words were cut short by the soft but unmistakable noise followed by heavy silence coming from the front door. He and Alex looked into each other''s eyes in surprise, with feelings of mild apprehension: who could come over at this hour?


    Alex moved to the door, opening it cautiously, only to reveal an unexpected face. "Mr. Ashbourne? How long have you been out here? Is there something we can help you with, or¡­?" Alex let his voice dwindle, awaiting an explanation.


    "Ah, Alexander, my boy, how are you?" Mr. Ashbourne greeted warmly but in a voice that was as calm as it was unerringly repulsive. "I just came to deliver some notes your friend left in my classroom this morning. I know it''s a bit late, but I couldn''t leave Jeremy without his papers."


    "Thanks a lot, Mr. Ashbourne; that''s very kind of you," Jeremy said, even now hastening to the door to take the notes with a grateful smile. "Was there anything else you needed?"


    Mr. Ashbourne shook his head, his gaze drifting into the room behind them. His eyes lingered a bit too long on the cluttered surfaces and dim lighting, as though cataloging every detail of their space. "No, no¡­ just the papers," he murmured, breaking the silence with a quick nod.


    A slightly awkward pause hung in the air, until Alex cleared his throat. "Well¡­ thank you again, Mr. Ashbourne. Have a good evening then," he said, closing the door a bit too quickly, practically closing the door in his face.


    After the footsteps faded, Alex and Jeremy exchanged a look-a look that spoke volumes about discomfort. ¡°See? I told you. Weird!¡± Said Jeremy.


    Later at night, it was dead silent in the dorm room. The faucet would frequently drip having been the only sound in that room. Both friends had fallen deep asleep when, all of a sudden, their room door creaked open. Somebody managed to pick the lock. Jeremy, who always was a light sleeper, woke up first. He heard the soft creak of the door and still half asleep he lifted his head. His vision blurry, his eyes focused on the sofa where he had left the book. He saw a humanoid figure standing next to the sofa but thought that must have been the large pile of clothes. However, when he saw it leaning over, clutching the book tightly, Jeremy leapt upwards in an instant. The intruder, seeing he had been caught, quickly fled the room, leaving the door wide open.


    ¡°Hey! How the fuck did you get in here?! Get back here!¡± Jeremy shouted as he jumped out of bed, chasing after the intruder down the dormitory hallway.


    He ran as fast as he could, still in his pajamas, his bare feet echoing against the cold floors. The hallway lights flickered intermittently, giving the scene a nightmarish feel. But the intruder was quick, and Jeremy was losing ground.


    He rounded a corner, nearly slipping, but by the time he reached the end of the hall, the intruder had vanished. ¡°Agh! You son of a bitch!¡± Jeremy writhed with rage.


    Suddenly, a flashlight beam hit his face. A security guard was approaching. ¡°What¡¯s all that screaming? What are you doing out of your room at this hour?¡± the guard asked, eyeing him suspiciously.


    ¡°Someone broke in and stole a book from my room. I was chasing him,¡± Jeremy tried to explain, but the guard didn¡¯t seem convinced.


    Stolen story; please report.


    ¡°A book? Really? Come on, don¡¯t make excuses for wandering around the campus in the middle of the night,¡± the guard replied, shaking his head.


    ¡°I swear! Someone was in our room!¡±


    ¡°Yeah, yeah¡­ whatever you say kid¡­ let¡¯s get back to your room¡±


    With no other options, Jeremy was escorted back to his dorm. When he arrived, he found Alex waiting by the door, looking confused. ¡°What the hell happened?¡± Alex asked.


    ¡°We got robbed... that¡¯s what happened. The book and worst of all, they took the damn map,¡± Jeremy said, angry and frustrated.


    Alex grinned smugly and pulled the map out of his backpack. ¡°You mean... this map?¡±


    ¡°What?! How...?"


    ¡°I put it in my backpack after we looked at it. That¡¯s all,¡± said Alex, proud of himself.


    Jeremy let out a laugh of relief. ¡°Well, at least not everything¡¯s lost,¡± he said, though still frustrated. Later that night, Jeremy paced nervously around the bedroom and then lay down on the bunk, staring at the ceiling. ¡°What am I going to say to Mrs. Chamberlain?¡± he muttered, his hands clasped over his chest.


    Alex, lying on the top bunk, peeked his head down. ¡°Relax, dude. She''ll understand. It''s not like you tore it up on purpose or something... Besides, there are probably more copies of that book somewhere in the library.¡±


    Jeremy sighed, feeling the weight of the previous night''s events. The guard hadn¡¯t believed him about the break-in. He stared up at the bottom of the bunk bed. Wasn''t it his job to protect us? His thoughts drifted, and slowly, sleep overtook him despite his frustration.


    The next morning, sunlight streamed into the dorm, casting long shadows across the room. Jeremy groaned as he pushed himself up, blinking against the light. Alex was already up, getting ready for another day.


    ¡°Morning,¡± Jeremy murmured as he trudged to the bathroom, his voice groggy from sleep.


    After a quick shower, Jeremy grabbed a light breakfast and set off for his programming class, hoping the day would breeze by. As he slipped into his usual seat, he noticed he¡¯d forgotten his notebook, but his mind was so scattered that he barely cared. The professor¡¯s voice droned on, reviewing the group assignment guidelines, but Jeremy¡¯s thoughts were elsewhere, drifting back to all the things he¡¯d promised himself he¡¯d do this weekend if he could finally make it home.


    As the minutes ticked by, he found himself tapping his fingers against the desk, glancing at the clock more often than usual. When the professor finally started handing out a weekend project and assigning teams, Jeremy¡¯s heart sank. He could already see what this meant: another weekend chained to his desk, poring over code with his group instead of heading home. He imagined his mother¡¯s face, the disappointment he¡¯d see in her eyes when he called to tell her he wouldn¡¯t be coming. She always tried to be supportive, but he knew she missed him terribly. His dad would probably just shake his head and say something about ¡®commitment to one¡¯s work,¡¯ but Jeremy knew better. They were waiting for him.


    As the class wrapped up, he barely registered his teammates gathering around to discuss schedules. Instead, he forced himself to smile and nod, his mind already running through the calls and apologies he¡¯d have to make once he left. Another weekend away from home, just another sacrifice in a string of many. As soon as class was over, he texted his mother: ¡°Sorry, Mom. I have a big project this weekend. Can¡¯t come home again¡­" He sighed as he pocketed his phone, feeling a familiar wave of disappointment wash over him.


    When Jeremy returned to the dorm, Alex wasn¡¯t there, but there was a hastily written note on his desk: "I''m on the trail with the map. Meet me by the path near the science building." Jeremy''s heart raced. He quickly knelt and pulled out his gear from under the bed: an old video camera, a flashlight, a notebook, water, and obviously, his phone. He stuffed everything into his backpack and hurried out of the dorm.


    Jeremy walked to the spot and hopped over the fence that separated the concrete from the greenery of the woods.


    The forest was thick and wild. The towering trees blocked out most of the sunlight, creating a cool, shady atmosphere that seemed far removed from the hustle and bustle of campus life. The air was humid with the smell of pine and earth, and the undergrowth was thick, making it difficult to walk. Twigs crunched underfoot as Jeremy followed the narrow path deeper into the woods, where Alex was waiting for him.


    ¡°There you are!¡± Alex called out when Jeremy finally caught up. ¡°Thought you were gonna bail.¡±


    Jeremy smirked. ¡°Like I''d miss this¡­¡±


    They continued to walk, their feet falling into a silent rhythm, yet Jeremy felt they''d been walking for miles. The narrow path began to meander deeper into the forest, growing wilder and more tangled. Vines and branches stretched out like eager needles to fight for dominion over every patch of sunlight. Murmurs of the forest, the soft calling of birds, rustling leaves, the scurrying of some unseen creature, felt familiar, almost nostalgic. This wild and peaceful landscape soon began to tug at Jeremy''s memories, weaving fragments of the past into the present.


    He remembered how, as kids, Alex had played brave adventurer, snuck out of the house, and dragged Jeremy and his sister, Ashley, along in the fun. Alex had wanted to explore every nook and cranny that was hidden by the woods, and they walked through imaginary monsters and secret trails, though Jeremy had resisted at first, grumbling about bugs and dirt. Soon he found himself entranced with the magic of the place. It became his refuge and his own private heaven, where the cares of the world dissolved under a canopy of ancient trees.


    There was a small, forgotten wooden bridge, half-smothered in moss and overgrowing weeds, its planks silt-stained and softened with years, yet still seemingly sound, as if waiting patiently all those long years for them to cross. The bridge arced over a narrow river, its waters sparkling in the dappled sunlight and wending their way down from a breathtaking waterfall that might have been plucked from a dream. Water tumbled with a gentle, steady roar; mist filled the air with freshness, painting all things with a delicate sheen. Jeremy and Alex crossed the bridge, their eyes wide, drinking in every nook and angle in wonder, trying to capture the magic of it all.


    Jeremy had stopped central, his gaze going out over the water, shining bright as it churned beneath them, his thoughts drifting to the times they would challenge each other to jump from the rocks, to battle their fears and take the leap. The forest held so many pieces of them, preserved in leaves and branches like it was in wait for them. He almost caught their laughter between the trees. Alex must have felt the same, for a silent smile was etched on his lips, speaking volumes of what words couldn''t: that some places, and some memories, never really leave us.


    The path became less defined, and soon, they stumbled into a clearing. Wildflowers dotted the tall grass, and dandelions swayed in the breeze. At the top of a gentle hill stood an old, abandoned house. The house had a Victorian feel to it, though it wasn''t grand enough to be a mansion, but it was too big to be a simple cottage. The once white paint was now a peeling grey, the windows were broken, the front door hung crookedly on rusty hinges, and the house itself was covered in vines that danced in the breeze. Despite the disrepair, there was a strange sense of order, as if someone had taken care to keep the overgrowth at bay.


    ¡°Is that it?¡± Jeremy asked, walking up to Alex, who was staring up at the house.


    ¡°Yeah¡± Alex replied, his voice filled with a mix of excitement and uncertainty. ¡°This is the place marked on the map.¡± Alex sat down on the grass for a moment, pulled out his notebook and pencil, and began drawing a simple yet detailed sketch of the house.


    ¡°Why would anyone build a house here?¡± Jeremy asked, still drawing in his notebook.  ¡°There are no neighbors, no road¡­ nothing, it¡¯s like it¡¯s been forgotten.¡±


    ¡°Who knows?¡± Alex shrugged. ¡°Maybe they were trying to hide something.¡±


    They approached the old wrought-iron gate, its once ornate patterns now rusted and entwined with creeping ivy. It was set into towering stone walls that encircled the entire property, imposing and almost foreboding in the dim light of dusk. Jeremy leaned into the gate, pushing with all his strength, but it refused to budge. The hinges groaned in protest, but the gate was firmly embedded in the earth, roots and tendrils of vegetation snaking through its bars as if the land itself was intent on reclaiming the structure.


    The walls loomed above them, covered in thick moss and climbing vines, their sheer height making it impossible to scale. Defeated, they exchanged a look and began searching for another way in, their footsteps crunching on the gravel path as they skirted the perimeter. The air was thick with the scent of wet leaves and decaying wood, the silence broken only by the distant call of a lone owl.


    After what felt like an eternity of searching, they stumbled upon a small, weathered side gate hidden behind a tangle of overgrown shrubs. The gate was set into an arched stone passage, its wooden frame swollen and cracked from years of neglect. It hung slightly ajar, its iron latch twisted and broken, suggesting someone, or something, had forced it open long ago.


    They hesitated for a moment, glancing at each other, before squeezing through the narrow gap. The gate creaked ominously as they pushed it wider, and they stepped into the garden beyond.


    The sight that greeted them was both beautiful and melancholic. The garden, once meticulously maintained, was now a wild tangle of nature reclaiming its territory. The cobblestone path was almost invisible beneath a carpet of ivy and wildflowers that had flourished unchecked, weaving themselves into a vibrant, chaotic tapestry. Roses, once carefully pruned, had grown into dense, thorny thickets. Weeds sprouted in every crack and crevice, their tall, spindly stalks swaying gently in the breeze.


    Despite the obvious neglect, there was a sense of quiet dignity to the place, an almost therapeutic stillness that hung in the air. The soft hum of insects and the distant rustle of leaves created a symphony of subtle sounds, as if the garden was still very much alive, whispering secrets of the past to anyone who cared to listen. The scent of jasmine and damp earth was thick and heady, filling their lungs with each breath.


    Jeremy and Alex paused, taking in the scene. Time had been unkind to the estate, yet it felt as though the garden was holding on to its former glory, refusing to be completely forgotten. There was a haunting beauty in the decay, a reminder of what once was and what could have been.


    As they moved deeper into the garden, the house loomed ahead of them, its windows dark and empty, like hollow eyes staring down at them. They couldn¡¯t shake the feeling that they were intruding on something sacred, a place caught between life and death, where the past lingered like a ghost, watching their every move. When they reached the creaky porch, they found what was left of the front door: a rotting wooden frame barely hanging on its hinges. They peered inside cautiously.


    The interior of the house was eerily preserved, despite the obvious abandonment. Dust particles hung in the air, glimmering in the stray beams of light that filtered through broken windows, and the musty smell of decay filled the air, but some furniture remained: an old couch, a coffee table, and a shattered mirror.


    Jeremy started filming, panning the camera across the empty room. ¡°It feels like someone left in a hurry but never came back¡­¡±


    Alex chuckled, crossing to the corner where a decrepit piano sat ¡°Hey, look at this old thing. Bet it hasn¡¯t been played in decades!¡±


    ¡°Wanna give it a shot?¡± Jeremy asked, raising an eyebrow.


    ¡°Why not?¡± Alex smirked as he approached the piano. He lifted the lid, revealing the cracked, yellowed keys, and sat down with mock seriousness. He ran his fingers over the yellowed keys, hitting a few notes that sounded horribly out of tune. With a grin, he pressed down harder, playing a simple tune, but the entire keyboard suddenly gave way, collapsing with a loud clatter as the front panel fell off, sending bits of wood and dust everywhere.


    Jeremy burst out laughing. ¡°Bravo, Beethoven!


    ¡°Shut up¡­¡± Alex snorted, stepping back from the ruined piano. ¡°I guess it was a little too... vintage.¡±


    The two climbed the rickety stairs to the second floor, each step groaning under their weight. As they reached the top, Alex leaned on the railing, which gave way with a sickening crack. He barely caught himself before tumbling down.


    ¡°Careful, man!¡± Jeremy shouted, heart pounding.


    ¡°Yeah, no kidding!¡± Alex muttered, looking sheepish as he steadied himself.


    Walking through the dimly lit corridors, their footsteps echoed softly against the creaking wooden floorboards, disturbing the stillness that had settled in over the years. Dust swirled lazily in the shafts of pale sunlight filtering through the cracked windows, and the air was thick with the scent of mildew and decay. Their fingers brushed against the dust-laden banisters, leaving trails in the thick layer of grime that coated the intricate carvings of the old wood.


    As they moved deeper into the house, a grand chandelier slowly came into view, suspended from the high ceiling of the main hall. Its crystals, caught the faint light and refracted it in muted, fractured colors, casting ghostly patterns across the faded wallpaper. The chandelier, once a symbol of opulence and grandeur, now hung like a relic of a forgotten era, swaying slightly as if moved by an unseen force.


    The two of them explored the empty rooms, each one filled with relics of the past: tarnished mirrors reflecting distorted images, furniture draped in yellowing sheets, and old photographs that stared back at them with eyes long dead. The silence was oppressive, the house seemingly holding its breath as they ventured further, the only sound the soft creak of the floorboards beneath their feet.


    They reached the end of the hall, where a door stood apart from the others. Unlike the rest, which were battered and peeling, this one was sealed shut with thick layers of insulation foam, its surface scratched and scarred as if something had tried to claw its way out¡­or in. In the center was a small, rusted peephole, a lone eye in the otherwise unremarkable wooden frame. Jeremy leaned in, squinting to peer through the tiny glass circle.


    He pressed his face closer, his breath fogging up the peephole as he strained to see. Beyond, he could make out only the vague outlines of an empty room, shrouded in darkness. The walls were bare, but lined with crucifixes and rosaries, the air inside seemed to pulse with a strange, almost tangible stillness. He frowned and stepped back, feeling an uneasy feeling settle in his gut.


    Meanwhile, Alex, wandering a few steps away, glanced up and noticed something peculiar. Above them, nestled in the ceiling near the corner of the hallway, was a trapdoor, its edges barely visible beneath the layer of dust and cobwebs. A faint draft seemed to seep from around its corners, carrying with it the musty scent of forgotten things. He pointed upwards; his voice hushed as if afraid to disturb the silence.


    ¡°Hey, Jeremy, check this out¡± he whispered, ¡°there¡¯s an attic up there,¡± he said, pointing. ¡°But it¡¯s out of my reach.¡±


    Jeremy, being taller, gave a small jump and opened the trapdoor, causing the creaking staircase to slide down with a thud. They climbed cautiously, clinging to the narrow steps.


    The attic was unlike the rest of the house. The walls were covered in graffiti and faded murals, some painted with intricate designs, others hastily painted over with black and red paint. There were scratches on the walls and chains scattered across the floor, as if someone had recently been there. Thin curtains with crochet-patterned edges, stained with age, hung from the ceiling, partially covering a gaping hole in the roof through which sunlight streamed in. A mockery of how close and how far salvation was.


    In the center of the attic was a worn, stained mattress in a large pool of stagnant water, fed by the leaks and the gaping. The wooden floor had begun to sag, slowly giving way as the boards rotted away from the moisture.


    ¡°Looks like someone¡¯s been¡­ hiding here¡± Alex said, eyeing the mess.


    ¡°Or kidnapped,¡± Jeremy added, panning his camera across the room. ¡°Creepy... we should get out of here¡±


    As they descended the stairs, the couple heard a very strange sound coming from the door leading to the basement, the noise sounding like a small rhythmic tapping on the wall, and they couldn''t resist looking into the basement. The door was half rotten, locked with a rusty lock. However, with a strong push, the lock broke and the door swung open, revealing a staircase leading into the darkness. Jeremy turned on his flashlight, illuminating the steps. ¡°Let¡¯s check it out.¡±


    The basement was a maze of wires and strange machinery. Old metal bookshelves lined the walls, filled with tools, gears, and other odd trinkets. But the centerpiece of the room was a large, futuristic-looking machine in the middle of the floor, way too advanced for something in a decaying house like this.


    Jeremy filmed it all, astonished. ¡°What is this place?¡± he whispered.


    Jeremy saw it on an old, dusty desk: the book that had been stolen from his bedroom. His heart skipped a beat. ¡°Alex! The book¡­ it¡¯s here!¡± he called out in a low, urgent voice.


    Alex ran towards us with wide eyes. ¡°We can''t take it, that will alert the intruder that we were here, but quickly, let me take a video of all the pages. We must get out of here before whoever lives here comes back!¡±


    Jeremy nodded, his pulse racing. They ran out of the basement, leaving the house and everything they touched like it was before. But determined to return for answers. The darkening sky above them was now swirling with heavy, grey clouds, threatening rain. Just as the first drops began to fall, Alex glanced back at the house. ¡°We need to hurry! If this rain gets any worse, all our equipment is going to be ruined,¡± he shouted over his shoulder, picking up the pace.


    Jeremy, clutching the camera and the gear tightly to his chest, nodded in agreement. ¡°We''ll cut through the brush,¡± he suggested. ¡°We can''t risk using the main path in case the guy comes back.¡±


    The two deviated from the trail, weaving through the thick underbrush, their footsteps muted by the soft earth. But suddenly, the crisp crunch of leaves reached their ears, accompanied by a soft, almost eerie humming. Jeremy froze and tugged on Alex¡¯s sleeve, signaling for him to crouch down. Both ducked into the bushes, hiding behind a dense thicket of trees. A figure appeared on the path ahead: a man, wearing a yellow rain slicker with the hood pulled low over his face, obscuring the rest. He carried a large toolbox in one hand, his steps deliberate and calm as he hummed an unsettling, sweet melody. He was heading straight for the house they had just left.


    ¡°That¡¯s him¡± Alex whispered; eyes wide.


    Jeremy pressed a finger to his lips, signaling Alex to remain silent. They huddled behind the thick trunk of an old oak tree, the damp bark pressing against their backs as they tried to control their breathing. The man¡¯s footsteps crunched ominously close on the leaf-strewn ground, his shadow stretching out like a sinister omen as he passed mere inches from their hiding spot.


    Jeremy held his breath, his heart pounding so loudly he feared it might give them away. The man paused, his head tilting slightly as if sensing something amiss. Time seemed to stretch infinitely, the forest around them eerily silent, save for the faint rustling of leaves in the breeze. Every muscle in Jeremy¡¯s body tensed, ready to bolt at the slightest hint of danger.


    After what felt like an eternity, the man resumed his path, his figure fading into the darkness of the woods. Jeremy exhaled softly, nodding to Alex, and they crept out from behind the tree, moving cautiously at first. But once they were sure they were out of earshot, they broke into a run. The forest floor was slick with rain, the damp leaves squelching beneath their feet. The sound was unavoidable, and Jeremy winced with each step, glancing over his shoulder every few seconds. The wet leaves betrayed them; a loud, wet crunch echoed through the stillness, and he saw the man stop dead in his tracks. His head snapped around, his eyes locking onto theirs with a predator¡¯s intensity.


    ¡°Run!¡± Jeremy shouted, his voice breaking the silence like a gunshot. They tore through the underbrush, branches whipping against their faces and snagging at their clothes. The man¡¯s heavy footsteps thundered behind them, gaining speed. Their soaked clothes clung to their bodies, weighing them down, but they pushed on, driven by pure fear. The forest seemed endless, a maze of shadows and twisted branches that clawed at them as they ran.


    Finally, they burst out of the dense woods, stumbling to a halt at the edge of the forest. Before them, the chain-link fence of the science building loomed high and foreboding. It stood as a barrier between them and safety, a promise of sanctuary just out of reach. Jeremy¡¯s chest heaved as he looked back. The man had emerged from the trees, his silhouette outlined against the dark forest.


    ¡°We need to climb,¡± Jeremy gasped, his voice barely audible over the roar of his heartbeat. He grabbed the fence, his fingers slipping on the wet metal, and began to climb. The cold steel bit into his hands, but he ignored the pain, focusing only on reaching the top.


    Alex was right behind him, their breaths ragged, their movements frantic. The man reached the base of the fence, his hands slamming against the metal with a deafening clang that reverberated through the night. Jeremy looked down, his blood running cold as he saw the fury in the man¡¯s eyes.


    ¡°Come on, come on!¡± he urged, pulling himself over the top of the fence and dropping to the other side. Alex followed, his descent less graceful as he hit the ground hard, rolling to his feet.


    They stumbled backward, panting, their eyes fixed on the man who now stood at the fence, his fingers curling around the links. For a moment, they thought he might try to climb after them, but he simply stood there, watching them with a predatory stillness. Alex grabbed Jeremy¡¯s arm, pulling him away. ¡°We have to go,¡± he whispered, his voice trembling. They turned and ran, their legs heavy, their breaths coming in short, painful gasps.  They didn¡¯t stop until they were inside the building, the door slamming shut behind them. Safe, but the terror lingered, an icy grip on their hearts that refused to let go.


    Once back in their dorm, Jeremy and Alex stumbled through the door, shivering and dripping water onto the hardwood floor. Their clothes clung to their bodies, heavy and cold, but they had miraculously managed to keep their gear dry. They dumped their backpacks in the corner and peeled off their soaked jackets, throwing them over the backs of chairs. Jeremy grabbed a towel from the bathroom and tossed it to Alex before drying his own hair with another, the silence between them thick and heavy.


    Despite the warmth of the dorm, the chill from their recent ordeal lingered. The feeling of being hunted, the suffocating sensation of eyes following their every move, still clung to them like a shadow. But for now, the walls around them provided a fragile sense of safety, a brief respite from the terror that had gripped them earlier.


    Alex sank onto the worn-out couch, his gaze fixed on the floor as if the answer to some unspoken question lay hidden in the pattern of the wood grain. He was pale, his hands shaking slightly as he rubbed them together to stop the trembling. His foot tapped incessantly against the floor, a staccato rhythm of nervous energy that echoed in the quiet room. He hadn¡¯t said much since they¡¯d returned, his mind clearly lost in the horrors they had just escaped.


    Jeremy watched him for a moment, his own nerves frayed. They exchanged a few strained words, their voices hushed and hollow, like echoes in an empty cave. Small talk, a feeble attempt to bridge the chasm of fear that had opened between them. The tension, however, was a physical presence, pressing down on them both, making the air feel heavy and hard to breathe.


    Jeremy stood up, the realization of what he had to do hitting him like a punch to the gut. He had been dreading this moment all day, pushing it to the back of his mind as if ignoring it would somehow make it disappear. But there was no avoiding it now.


    With a deep sigh, he ran a hand through his still-damp hair and grabbed his jacket from the back of the chair. The fabric was cold and clammy against his skin, a stark reminder of the storm they had braved, but he barely noticed. His mind was already at the library, imagining Mrs. Chamberlain¡¯s reaction when he told her the rare book was gone. He could see her stern face, the way her eyes would widen in shock and then narrow in disapproval. He knew he¡¯d have to face her disappointment, her questions, the inevitable lecture about responsibility and respect for the school¡¯s property.


    He slipped his arms into the jacket sleeves and glanced at Alex, who was still staring blankly at the floor. ¡°I have to go to the library,¡± he said softly, his voice cracking slightly with the weight of what he was about to do.


    Alex looked up, his eyes clouded with confusion and fear. ¡°Are you out of your mind?! After what just happened? We need to call the cops!¡±


    ¡°No, not yet... it''s not convenient for us. Think about it, for now we know the exact location of the book and who has it, if we involve the police that intruder will take everything, try to hide it and we will lose the book.¡±


    ¡°So, we''re just gonna act like nothing happened? You expect us to sit around and wait for that weirdo to do something to us?¡±


    ¡°This place is full of security cameras, relax.¡± Jeremy said forcing a weak smile. ¡°But for now I need to get this over with. I¡¯ll be back soon.¡± He didn¡¯t want to admit how much he dreaded facing Mrs. Chamberlain, how the thought of explaining the theft made his stomach twist with anxiety. But it was his responsibility, and there was no escaping it.


    As he stepped out into the hallway, the door closing softly behind him, the safety of the dorm seemed to fall away, leaving him exposed once more to the cold, dark reality outside. He took a deep breath and started down the stairs, his footsteps echoing in the empty corridor. ¡°I¡¯ll be back,¡± he muttered.


    The library was quiet, with only the faint rustling of pages and the soft hum of the air conditioning. Jeremy spotted Mrs. Chamberlain near one of the tall shelves, methodically reshelving a cartload of books.


    ¡°Uh, Mrs. Chamberlain?¡± Jeremy began hesitantly, approaching her.


    She turned slowly, her sharp eyes peering over her reading glasses. ¡°Yes, Jeremy? How can I help you?¡±


    Jeremy swallowed hard. ¡°I... I need to tell you something. The book I borrowed, the one titled The Paranormal Chronicles, was... well, it was stolen.¡±


    Mrs. Chamberlain raised an eyebrow but remained calm. ¡°Stolen, you say?¡±


    ¡°Yes¡­¡± Jeremy said quickly, feeling the weight of her gaze. ¡°Someone broke into my room last night and took it. I¡¯m really sorry. I know it was unique, But I¡¯ll take it back!... somehow¡­¡±


    She sighed, pausing in her task. ¡°It WAS unique. That book is one of a kind, Jeremy. There are no copies.¡±


    Jeremy¡¯s heart sank even further, but then he remembered something. ¡°But wait! I took a video! I have a shot of every page. I could use it to make a copy, right?¡±


    Mrs. Chamberlain thought for a moment, then nodded. ¡°I suppose that would be acceptable. But you would have to rewrite it from scratch, page by page, it is a lot of work. If you wish... you could just pay for the book.¡±


    ¡°Oh, no, no, no¡± said Jeremy ¡°I''ll do it, don''t worry Mrs. Chamberlain, you''ll see that in a couple of weeks I''ll have it ready.¡±


    Mrs. Chamberlain gave him a strange look. There were hundreds of college students who lost their borrowed books every day of the year, but there had never been one who was so committed. Did he want this book so badly? ¡°Son, why do you want that book so badly?¡± the librarian asked curiously.


    ¡°Because I need it. Umm... I¡¯m an investigator of supernatural phenomena. It all started when I was seventeen, living with my parents in the foothills of the Appalachian Mountains, and I promise you I''ve seen things no one would believe, Mrs. Chamberlain...¡±


    ¡°Hmm¡­ Jeremy, you are like a son to me, and I must warn you to be careful. Be careful where you go, please. The things in that book are more real than they seem, promise me you will be careful.¡±


    ¡°I will, I promise¡± Jeremy replied, relieved.


    As she left the library with the opportunity to make a new copy of the book, she couldn''t shake the nagging feeling of unease. Someone had stolen the original for some reason, and whoever that masked man was, he clearly knew more than he was letting on. Later that evening, back in the dorm, Jeremy sat on his bed, staring at the pages they had printed. Alex was getting ready for his new job at the park, but Jeremy¡¯s thoughts were elsewhere. Who was that man? Why had he stolen the book? And more importantly¡­ what were they going to do next? One thing was clear: they couldn¡¯t let this mystery go unsolved.

 Dead End

    It had been several weeks since Jeremy started typing the stolen book on his computer. The more he typed, the more he discovered about the writings, and his infatuation became stronger word by word. Pressing pause on the video to grab a blurry, but just legible image wasn''t very helpful. There was more to the book than just ghosts and supernatural beasts. The book focused on the study of the soul: its nature and vulnerability. He pondered over the width of the book, and he felt he might have come across something big, it could either be against or for him. The most interesting thing about it was that, when he''d done an Internet search there were no copies, no author, it was like it had emerged out of nowhere.


    Bit by bit, as he worked his way through it, chapter by chapter, Jeremy felt it was worth creating a digital copy and carefully cataloging each entry on his website. He felt sharing such information could bring satisfaction-and perhaps even attract others interested in the mysteries he''d been piecing together. He felt that, with strange intrusions and events having recently plagued him, it was best if he should rename this book to something a bit ambiguous. He settled with ¡®The Dark Tome¡¯. It felt appropriate: a title carrying enough weight to suit the macabre nature of what this book was filled with.


    He had practically completed it; he had worked without rest, only one chapter remaining to complete the archive. But when he started to type away on the second-to-last chapter, he came upon something quite unusual: an unfamiliar language, or some form of code. The text was an incomprehensible jumble of symbols and patterns, an encrypted puzzle buried between the words he had translated up until now. The discovery considerably slowed him down, his curiosity mingling with a sense of dread that was beginning to creep in.


    Jeremy kept thinking about going back to the abandoned house and digging further, ever since they''d left. However, Alex was always busy: classes in the morning, working at the animation studio in the afternoon. Jeremy had seen a few episodes of the show Alex worked on and was blown away by how so naturally and expressively Alex''s voice fit the character. Jeremy was genuinely proud of his friend. Alex was indeed gifted.


    Jeremy, in contrast, he passed much of his time in solitude. Only rarely did he join classmates for a project or assignment. He was much into being alone-his mind occupied, mostly, with the cryptic book. Holding the pencil with his eyes lost on the desk scribbles-an impossible code in the innumerable attempts to decipher it, the pencil fell from his hands as his elbow knocked down a pile of books onto the floor.


    The room was completely silent, save for the muffled bass from the music upstairs. Jeremy rolled his eyes in annoyance; didn''t they know how to behave like decent people? The guys upstairs never seemed to keep their music at a reasonable volume. He got up reluctantly, grabbed a broom, and banged it against the ceiling a few times. ¡°Hey, someone is trying to study down here! Keep it down!¡± There was a momentary pause in the music accompanied by some giggles, then it resumed, quieter this time.


    Jeremy sighed, looking out of the window. It was pouring rain, and he comprehended that he was late. He relinquished it at last with a shake of his head and rushed through the crowd, made off his things assiduously, and headed for class. His day was demanding, crammed with interesting lectures and lab sessions. Being an engineering student, hours had to be spent in huge, brightly lit classrooms, the air drone with computers and the shuffling of paper as students furiously scribbled notes. These consisted of lectures with unceasing flow of equations and concepts which demanded his utmost concentration. The professors, stiff and flamboyant, paced from the front of the hall while their voices echoed on the walls of the huge auditorium.


    However horrible the mixture of boredom and tiredness was, thoughts fast engulfed him. Out of the burning haze of his mind flourished the thought of the book, and the mysterious symbols that he still could not decode. He wanted straight answers, with the person to get them from already put in his mind. Jeremy searched for Professor Ashbourne after class. The professor had shown unusual interest in the paranormal, and Jeremy hoped he might shed some insight into the coded text.


    He found Ashbourne in his office, a small, cluttered room filled with old books and strange artifacts. The professor glanced up from his desk as Jeremy entered, his eyes narrowing slightly.


    ¡°Oh, Jeremy what a surprise! Come in and take a sit¡± he said with a monotonous voice.


    Standing in the doorway, Jeremy began to wonder what his purpose was here. Should he talk to someone about it? Should he confide in someone, try to explain what he¡¯s involved in? But it was too late to take a step back. He straightened his posture slightly, but his shoulders slightly hunched in doubt where not helping. Looking this way and that, but not taking his eyes off Mr. Ashbourne too much so as not to seem rude.


    This place was a museum, chaotic but tidy, old-fashioned but it seemed like the finest place, filled with history and charm, messy yet somehow curated with care. He walked over to the desk, where Mr. Ashbourne, who stood waiting for him with warm, friendly smile. Jeremy sat down in a small velvet chair;ts fabric is soft but unfamiliar. He placed his hands on the book resting on his lap, trying to find some reassurance for his actions.


    ¡°Good afternoon. What can I do for you, Jeremy?¡±


    Jeremy hesitated for a moment before pulling out a notebook, opened it to a section of copied scribbles ¡°Hi, Mr. Ashbourne¡­ I was hoping you could help me with this,¡± he said, handing it over.


    Ashbourne¡¯s expression changed the moment he saw the symbols. He leaned back in his chair, his eyes wide. ¡°Jeremy, where did you get this?¡± was his clear request.


    Jeremy shifted uncomfortably. ¡°It¡¯s a long story,¡± he began, then took a deep breath and told her everything. He talked about finding the book in the library, the strange intruder, and the abandoned house. He mentioned feeling that perhaps the house was engaged in illegal activity with drugs and that he planned on passing the tape to the police for some minor investigations. The professor listened in silence, his eyes never leaving the pages in front of him. When Jeremy finished, Ashbourne leaned back, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.


    ¡°Hmmm¡­this is... interesting, but are you sure you want to involve the police? It could be... dangerous for you and your friend¡± he muttered, his gaze flicking back to the symbols.


    ¡°Wouldn''t it be even more dangerous if we didn''t call the police?¡±


    ¡°Well, sure... but think about it this way: if the police investigate the house and come up empty-handed, they won¡¯t be able to arrest whoever¡¯s behind it. That''s when you''re in danger. why? Well, the intruder already knows that you have that map and that you know the location of the residence. That puts you and your friend in a risky spot. Resentment, fear, maybe even desperation could push that person to do something drastic. It could end in tragedy... you just never know. But hey, it''s just my advice. You don¡¯t have to take it if you don¡¯t want to, of course...¡±


    Jeremy stood there stunned, thinking about the professor''s words, when suddenly the professor''s voice interrupted his stream of thoughts.


    ¡°And getting back to the topic, this language... </a>I had never seen it before, and I have everything here... Whatever this is, it¡¯s beyond my expertise¡± He paused, as if weighing his words carefully. ¡°I can¡¯t help you, Jeremy. I¡¯m sorry¡±


    Jeremy blinked, taken aback. ¡°I-I understand, thank you for everything¡±


    ¡°Jeremy, wait,¡± Ashbourne said, stopping him just as he was about to leave. ¡°Tell me, are you okay? I¡¯m surprised at how exhausted you looked in my class¡­ Plus, I heard you throwing up in the public restrooms this morning. Are you sick or something?¡±


    Jeremy stopped short, tensing at the professor¡¯s question. He hadn¡¯t wanted anyone to notice, he was uncomfortable with anyone paying so much attention to him, he didn¡¯t want to be a concern to anyone. He looked down, feeling his feet go numb from the discomfort.


    ¡°Uh¡­ I¡¯m not sick, not exactly. It¡¯s more¡­ complicated than that,he began, with a sigh.</a> ¡°The truth is, I haven¡¯t been eating right. My budget is through the floor lately. It barely covers the basics, so I¡¯m just eating prepackaged food and, well¡­ some vitamins to compensate. I thought I could stay afloat like this, but it seems my body doesn¡¯t agree.¡±


    Ashbourne looked at him with a mix of seriousness and curiosity. ¡°Is that so? Jeremy, you can¡¯t live on just packaged food and vitamins. How did you get into this?Alex work as a voice actor at the park, isn''t?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, but he¡¯s still in the testing phase, he¡¯s already recorded a few episodes but he¡¯s nowhere near getting his first paycheck.¡±


    ¡°I totally understand, since I work part-time there. It¡¯s true, the company that runs the park is very strict¡­ I¡¯d say picky when it comes to choosing their employees. They always make sure to pick the best ones. And you¡­ What do you do? Do you have a steady job?¡±


    Jeremy laughed, but it was a bitter laugh, mixed with weariness. ¡°I work as a paranormal investigator,he confessed. ¡°Yeah, I know, it sounds weird. My friend Alex and I have been doing little investigations here and there, helping people with things that¡­ well, most wouldn¡¯t believe.¡±


    Ashbourne shifted his stance, leaning forward, visibly surprised, but not dismissive. On the contrary, his interest increased. ¡°Paranormal investigator, huh? I didn¡¯t expect that,he said, crossing his arms. ¡°And you get paid well for it?¡±


    Jeremy nodded. ¡°They pay very well¡­ it¡¯s my own business really. But no one has called this season, it¡¯s very strange. But now¡­ I really need to find something that will give us a steady income.¡±


    The professor nodded slowly, thoughtful. ¡°You know, Jeremy, I have a friend who is always interested in antiques, you know, she loves collecting things that are a little¡­ peculiar and she has mentioned that strange things happen in some of them. It could be in your field. Maybe I could get in touch with her and see if she needs your¡­ skills. What do you think?¡±


    Jeremy¡¯s eyes lit up, surprised and grateful. ¡°Really?! That would be amazing, professor. I don¡¯t know how to thank you.¡±


    Ashbourne smiled softly. ¡°You don¡¯t have to thank me. Just make sure you take care of yourself. And maybe¡­ try to eat something other than packaged food, okay?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll try,Jeremy replied, with a more genuine smile.


    ¡°And now, if you allow me, I have a very important call to make. Have a great day, Jeremy.¡±


    The truth is that Jeremy was more surprised than happy, he was very surprised that there were still good-hearted people in the world. It had been a long time since there were people like that. It seemed like they had disappeared from the world, what a pity. People today live in their own glass bubble, they all see but are blind, they hear but they play deaf, simply driven to live for the love of money, fame and luxury. But he was still grateful, as he walked away from the scene.


    After a long day of classes and labs, Jeremy returned to his dorm, still silent. Alex had left for work. He threw his bag on the bed and went to the small kitchen. He pulled a prepackaged meal out of the freezer, popped it into the microwave, and watched it slowly spin as it heated up. He was sick of it, the same cheap meals, day after day, but not a single call had come in those months for him to attend to his promised job: investigating haunted houses for paranormal cases. All his equipment and gadgets had become science projects beneath his bunk, a wasted acquisition.


    With a deep sigh and a frown in vague annoyance, he sank into his threadbare couch, devouring the last spoonful of his irregular dinner with the same haste a starving man might display. Several other sad packages of frozen stuff awaited him in his nearly empty refrigerator. Wasn¡¯t Alex working? Yes¡­ Well, I phrased that poorly. Alex was doing very well as a voice actor and his singing had brought a lot of praise to the animated series, but Jeremy knew that the food in the refrigerator wouldn''t last even until the weekend. The realization sank in: he''d have to ask his parents for money again, something that always left a bitter taste in his mouth.


    The clock seemed to echo in the quiet hallway to remind him of the few hours he had left before he left to spend the night at his parents¡¯ house. Normally, he would find an excuse not to go, but tonight he had nothing else to fill his time with. Maybe company would be better than sulking alone; the nagging thought of asking for help plagued him.


    The echoes of the plate¡¯s clink filled the quiet space, and he tossed the discarded plate into the small sink next to the compact stove. With a grim sense of duty, he turned his attention to the plate, washing it with soap in bubbles that swirled around his fingers. When he was done, he glanced at the clock on the desk; Alex had half an hour left to get off work. He had to kill time somehow.


    He surveyed the apartment. Chaos greeted him. Papers were strewn across the floor, empty energy drink cans cluttered the desk, and were those Alex¡¯s underwear wedged between the couch cushions? Gross¡­ How the hell did I manage to sleep in this pigsty for so long?


    With a resigned sigh, he grabbed a pair of gloves, a broom, and a rag, along with a bucket of soapy water. The task felt both overwhelming and necessary. He began sweeping, then scrubbing, determined to turn the cluttered apartment into something resembling order. Each swipe of the rag was a small step toward reclaiming a sense of control over the mess that mirrored the chaos in his own life. The mundane chore became almost meditative, as if cleaning up the physical mess around him might help clear his mind too.


    Alex came home from work miserable, contemptible, and pallid. He moved sluggishly, and the weight of the day hung on his back like a veil of fog. Once inside, he could hardly pay any attention to the sound of the damp rag dragged across the floor. Upon entering the bedroom, however, he was not very stunned to see Jeremy kneeling on the floor scrubbing it with a rag with a bucket of soapy water beside him, but the biggest shock to Alex was the numbness. Normally, something like this might have elicited a playful comment, maybe even a lighthearted argument about whose turn it was to clean. But tonight, Alex just did not have the energy for jokes.


    He tossed his keys on the tabletop, and they made a sound that echoed uncomfortably in his ears. Alex slumped onto the couch behind Jeremy. The piled silence in the room almost seemed oppressive. Mid-scrub, Jeremy sensed Alex''s discomfort and looked over his shoulder. He could feel the tension before Alex spoke, in the sound of silence echoing shafts in his ears. ¡°Hey, what''s wrong?¡± Jeremy asked gently, his hand coming to rest on Alex''s shoulder.


    For a moment, Alex didn¡¯t answer. His eyes were glazed, staring into the middle distance as though he was still trying to process the news himself. Finally, he turned toward Jeremy, his voice cracked and barely above a whisper. ¡°I got fired, Jeremy. They-they cut me from the role.¡±


    The words seemed to hang in the air, heavier with each passing second. Jeremy¡¯s brow furrowed in disbelief.¡°What?! How? You were perfect for that part. What happened?¡±


    Alex¡¯s breath hitched as he tried to explain, his hands trembling slightly in his lap. He looked down, unable to meet Jeremy¡¯s eyes. ¡°I-I don¡¯t know. The production manager called me into his office, told me they were going in a different direction... and just like that, I left. I thought¡­ I was good enough. I thought that maybe I was finally making it¡± His voice broke as the floodgates opened, and the tears came, unbidden and uncontrollable ¡°Dad was right¡­¡±


    Jeremy immediately dropped the rag and bucket, moving to sit beside Alex on the couch. He wrapped his arms around him, pulling him close, not caring that his hands were still wet from mopping. Alex¡¯s sobs were muffled against Jeremy¡¯s chest, and all Jeremy could do was hold him, trying to be the anchor that Alex so desperately needed in that moment.


    ¡°Hey, hey... don¡¯t think like that,¡± Jeremy whispered, his voice soft but firm. ¡°You know that¡¯s not true. You¡¯re more than good enough.¡±


    ¡°But it doesn¡¯t feel that way,¡± Alex choked out between sobs, his words raw with frustration and self-doubt. ¡°I thought I was finally getting somewhere, Jer. I thought I¡¯d made it. But I guess I wasn¡¯t what they wanted after all; I¡¯ll never be...¡±


    Jeremy tightened his embrace, his heart aching for him. ¡°Alex, this isn¡¯t about your talent! You know how this industry works, it¡¯s unpredictable. They make changes for reasons that have nothing to do with your abilities. You can¡¯t take this as a reflection of who you are.¡±


    Alex shook his head, the bitterness and disappointment still gnawing at him. ¡°I don¡¯t know how to stop feeling like a failure. I thought this was my shot.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not your only shot,¡± Jeremy said, leaning back slightly so he could look into Alex¡¯s eyes. ¡°I know it feels like the end of the world right now, but it¡¯s not. You¡¯re going to get through this. And you¡¯ll get another role, a better one. You just need to keep pushing forward. One step at time, okay?¡±


    For the first time that evening, Alex managed a small, grateful smile. It wasn¡¯t much, but it was a start. ¡°Thanks, Jer.¡±


    Jeremy rubbed Alex''s back, feeling the very particular tremor of silent sobs shivering through his friend. Though heavy with despair for Alex, Jeremy made sure that he didn''t show it. He knew all too well: If they didn''t start to make greater sacrifices and cement it a little, everything might just fly apart. What kind of danger it could be! Just enough earned from Jeremy''s job in tutoring and various scholarships to scrape by, and yet here was a shocker, Alex had lost his job, an announcement that made them feel as if they were losing the ground beneath their feet.


    While rubbing Alex''s back, he drifted toward the stark truth they both had to face. Without steady income, they wouldn¡¯t just their comforts, but their future as well. Dropping from college was no more distant an unlikelihood; it grew closer with each unpaid bill, each skipped meal, each sleepless night filled with just what tomorrow should bring. Such had it been for months: prepackaged foods, vitamins taken as a substitute... however far they''d tried to ignore it. Saved their whole sorrow on the farthest shelf. Thinking of it made Jeremy''s heart shrink, but he meant not to lose himself. Not now. Alex needed him.


    He could still hear his sister''s concerned voice telling him to question whether he was eating enough and taking care of himself, as it were, just the previous day. And every time, Jeremy would say: ¡°Yeah, yeah, I am fine. Don''t bother about me¡±. But, in fact, that was a lie for the better part. There were days when the best he could manage were instant noodles, just to stretch out his dollar. He could never tell her, fearing it would place an additional burden on her, even though he had the proverbial hunger pangs while being in it.


    Seated beside Alex now, the same heaviness landed in the pit of his stomach, working its dark spell upon him. In one moment, an added weight of guilt sat upon him. The uncertainty, the stress, the glaring need to meet-ups; all of that amounted to one latest admission-they were slowly eating him alive inside. But he could never let that show. He could never break down the way Alex did right now. He was going to be the strong one, the steady one. He had been everyone''s emotional support, and that would not change now.


    After Alex finally managed to calm down, the thought of leaving him alone to drown in his dark thoughts became unbearable for Jeremy. The pain of having missed out on his part in the production, along with the added pressure of uncertainty, showed itself in every sigh he let out. But Jeremy, the constant emotional anchor he was, knew he had to pull Alex away from this environment-the storm shipwrecking his mind.


    ¡°Alex... you know, if you want to come stay with me tonight at my parents'' house, it could help a little,¡± began Jeremy, a light undertone of worry easing in on the invitation.


    ¡°What? No, no, I don¡¯t want to be a bother to your parents. Or to you, really...¡±


    Jeremy laughed jokingly, reveling in the thought of lightening the mood this way. ¡°Pfff! You''re no bother. I will be very sure they''ll be excited to see you after a long absence. Come on! It''ll be like those nights when we had sleepovers with Ashley as kids. What do you say?¡±


    The trail of these nights of laughter that spark from Alex''s brain eluded him, but being stuck in that present weighed him down, holding him in place. ¡°Emm¡­I don¡¯t know, Jer. Are you sure I won¡¯t be interrupting quality time with your mom and dad?¡±


    Jeremy squeezed Alex''s shoulder as lightly as he could. By this act, he hoped could transfer the little strength he had left into a mercifully convenient gesture. ¡°Not at all, just pack up your bag. You¡¯ll thank me later.¡±


    This new information hit Alex like a ton of bricks. He sighs, resigned, but exhausted from arguing with him. The strain of leaving the situation pushes him to move on. He heads to the bathroom, which shields him from the rest of the world for a few moments. The mirror showed him not only his body as he stripped, but also what he had always hidden. On his wrist, a semicolon tattoo, along with faded scars, marks of the battles he had silently waged against himself, which was why the bathroom had no lock. He looked into his own eyes and felt as if he was being judged; the pain was still with him despite all these years. Desperate, he turned away from the mirror and stepped straight into the warm shower, washing away the sweat and fatigue of the day. The steam enveloped him, but it couldn¡¯t clear the dark clouds from his mind.


    By the time he finished showering, Jeremy had already packed his bags and was sitting on the edge of the bed. His body language was rather relaxed, but his piercing gaze was fixed on Alex. Without a word, he offered a small smile. Alex calmly got dressed and continued packing. Although he was still a bit reluctant to go, Jeremy''s persistent and constant encouragement brought out an unwanted excitement in him. At this point, they left the bedroom and got into Jeremy''s car.


    Once they were in the car, Jeremy tried to ease the silence, wanting to change the mood, ¡°It''ll be okay, you''ll see. My parents will be happy to see you. And who knows, maybe we''ll even watch an old movie like the good old days.¡±


    If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    Alex smiled weakly. He may have ignored it, but Jeremy''s attempt to keep him afloat didn''t go unnoticed. With the roar of the engine behind them, the weight of the day still pressed down on him as they left the small, narrow space behind in favor of a spot that he hoped would provide him with a modicum of peace, if only temporarily.


    Jeremy was driving, but the setting sunbathed him and everything in the car in soft streaks of pink and blue, as if a watercolor had splashed across the sky, but with an invisible paintbrush. Colors filtered through the car windows, their warm golden light caressing the bodies inside as the world, it seemed, held Alex tightly in silence, something he hadn¡¯t felt in a long time. Jeremy hummed the song on the radio, barely audible, his hands tapping the steering wheel in time to the music.


    Alex looked at him, looking away from his phone and back at Jeremy, smiling, despite himself. Jeremy was certainly not a great singer, not by any objective standard. He couldn¡¯t stay remotely in tune to save his life. All of that seemed irrelevant, too. He sang with such joy that his own happiness was almost contagious. Jeremy had always had that gift, the so-called afternoon cheer effect, where his gregarious personality and that wide, warm smile of his were enough to make anyone feel a little better. As they drove down the road, Alex felt the knot in his chest begin to loosen, at least a little.


    They drove on in silence until they rounded the corner between the trees and saw a lovely house with gentle pastel hues nestled among them. The house, still and solid as an ancient fortress. From the outside, it appeared just as it had when Jeremy headed off to college, frozen in time like every day since he moved out, waiting for him.


    Jeremy pulled up by the front door, and as he turned off his headlights, they cast long shadows across the porch. Well¡­ He gave Alex a grin. ¡°See? Old times¡­¡± he said as he unbuckled his seatbelt and climbed out of the car.


    Alex also stepped outside, looking at the house. The fireplace was such a warm place that it filled his chest with longing for home and family. This place, this house, was the only place where he could truly be himself¡­ away from his imposing father, away from his carefree mother. Very slowly, in the elongated shadows that came from Jeremy, he followed him to the front door while covering his fading scars with the sleeves and searching for some semblance of normality, despite the fallen dreams and broken smiles.


    The door opened and a smiling woman stood in the doorway. ¡°Surprise! Mom, it¡¯s so good to see you.¡± Jeremy cried as he hugged his mother.


    ¡°Jeremy, how wonderful to see you! Te he extra?ado tanto, tanto...¡± she said, her voice heavy with emotion. ¡°And look who I brought with me!¡± Jeremy said showing Alex.


    Alex''s mother¡¯s eyes sparkled with happiness as she enveloped him in a bear hug that almost took his breath away. ¡°Oh, Alex! It¡¯s been ages! Look how much you¡¯ve grown, chamaco!¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s great to see you too, Mrs. Orwell,¡± he managed to say before she squeezed him even tighter.


    ¡°You two must be starving after that long drive. Come in, come in... I was just finishing up dinner.¡±


    They entered the house and Alex was immediately overcome with a wave of nostalgia. Every corner of the place was filled with memories. The walls were covered in framed photographs of Jeremy¡¯s childhood. There were pictures of Jeremy as a child, laughing with his sister Ashley, and even a few with Alex himself from his younger years. The house had the comforting scent of home-cooked meals, making it feel like a time capsule from his past. The soft, beloved furniture, the slightly faded wallpaper, the familiar creak of floorboards underfoot, and an oil painting of a majestic flowering tree. What was it called? Flamboyan, was it? Ceiba? Something like that¡­ he couldn¡¯t remember, but everything was just as he remembered it.


    As they walked toward the dining room, they spotted Jeremy¡¯s father balanced on a ladder, struggling with a light fixture above the table. The older man let out a grunt as he attempted to unscrew a bulb that seemed to be stuck.


    ¡°Dad, what are you doing up there?¡± Jeremy asked with a grin.


    ¡°Oh¡­ Jeremy! It¡¯s been so long. Well¡­ I¡¯m trying to fix this darn light,¡± his father replied. ¡°It¡¯s been flickering for days. Your mom keeps saying it¡¯s bad luck.¡±


    Jeremy laughed. ¡°Need a hand? Or are you just enjoying the view from up there too much?¡±


    His father shot him a playful glare. ¡°Very funny. No, I think I¡¯ve got it. But... who¡¯s that behind you? Alex, is that you?¡±


    Alex stepped forward, smiling a bit sheepishly. ¡°Hi, Mr. Orwell. Yeah, it¡¯s me. It¡¯s been a while, isn¡¯t?¡±


    ¡°Well, I¡¯ll be damned! Look at you, all grown up,¡± Mr. Orwell exclaimed, climbing down from the ladder with surprising agility for his age. ¡°I was wondering when you¡¯d come by again. You really need to stop disappearing on us like that.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll try,¡± Alex said while laughing, sensing the warmth in the man''s voice.


    Jeremy''s mother called them to the table as she finished setting it, dishing out generous servings of food that made Alex''s stomach rumble with anticipation. They all gathered around the old, slightly worn dining table, and for the first time in what felt like decades, Alex felt... at peace.


    The meal was simple, but it looked delicious: roast chicken, mashed potatoes, rice and beans, and freshly baked bread. Jeremy''s mother served each plate with care, ensuring everyone had more than enough. As Alex glanced around the table, he noticed the small smiles and the happiness in Jeremy''s eyes, and he couldn''t help but feel a lump form in his throat. It had been so long since he¡¯d enjoyed a meal like this, surrounded by people who truly¡­ cared.


    Jeremy was unable to contain his emotions as they were eating. Gratitude washed over him as he cast a sideways look at Alex, who was eating silently. This was just the moment they needed to be together. A pause, a reminder that they didn''t have to confront things by themselves.


    Jeremy remarked, very quietly, ¡°Pssst!... Hey,¡± just to Alex. ¡°Didn¡¯t I say this was a good call?¡±


    Alex glanced up and offered him a genuine, tiny grin. Jeremy could tell he meant it for the first time in what felt like forever. After a pleasant conversation about trivial things and having enjoyed a dinner that was not bad at all, Jeremy and Alex got up from their chairs. In the middle of clearing away the dishes and cleaning up, Jeremy''s phone suddenly rang. He jumped, startled, then reached over to grab it. </a>


    ¡°Hello?¡±


    A woman¡¯s voice, tense and frustrated, crackled through the line. ¡°Is this Jeremy? Jeremy Orwell?¡±


    ¡°Yes, that¡¯s me. How can I help you ma¡¯am?¡± he replied, glancing at the clock. It was late for a call.


    ¡°I¡¯d like to make an appointment, I¡¯ve read on internet that you are an experienced paranormal investigator, is that right? Because I need your help¡± the woman said, her voice almost desperate.


    At that moment, Jeremy quietly slipped away from everyone, retreating to the hallway at the foot of the stairs. His parents had no idea what kind of work he was really involved in, and God help him if they ever found out. He made sure to put enough distance between himself and the others, ensuring no one could overhear what he was about to do.


    ¡°That¡¯s correct. You must be the friend Professor Ashbourne told me about. Okay, when would you like the appointment?¡±


    ¡°As soon as possible please, maybe tonight? Things are getting serious; I don''t even feel safe in my own home anymore.¡± The woman said with nervous energy.


    Jeremy felt a chill run down his spine. He grabbed a pen and paper. ¡°Okay, ma¡¯am, let¡¯s go over a few details. What¡¯s your address?¡±


    She gave him the details, explaining that she wouldn¡¯t be home due to work but would leave the keys in the mailbox and an envelope with payment on the kitchen counter.


    ¡°Now, ma''am, can you give us a brief description of what is happening?¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s something wrong with my house. I¡¯ve been hearing footsteps at night, things moving on their own, and sometimes... I swear that I can hear someone whispering in the halls.¡±


    ¡°Well... we''re almost ready, all that''s left is the cost of the service. The visit would cost about four hundred dollars, you sure you can afford it, ma''am?¡±


    ¡°Oh, yeah, yeah, there''s no problem with that, I''d do anything to get out of this situation.¡± the woman let out a nervous chuckle ¡°As I already mentioned, I''ll leave the money on the kitchen counter. Thank you very much.¡±


    ¡°Thanks to you too, ma¡¯am.¡±


    After hanging up, Jeremy was so happy he thought his head was going to explode from the excitement; they had been saved once again! Jeremy peeked through the archway that divided the living room from the dining room, gesturing with his hands trying to get Alex''s attention, who was wiping down the table with a rag.


    ¡°Alex... Alex... hey, Alex... come here.Alex looked towards the strange noises coming from the hallway, only to see Jeremy grimacing and calling out his name. ¡°What do you want?¡±


    ¡°Shut up and come here... I have something to tell you,Jeremy said quietly, trying not to draw any more attention than necessary. Alex dropped the rag on the table and walked towards Jeremy, however, he quickly pulled him to a secluded spot.


    Jeremy smiled, ¡°Now listen, I got a call earlier. A woman wants us to check out her house. She¡¯s been hearing strange noises, things moving around on their own... you know, classic haunted house stuff¡­¡±


    Jeremy gave him a sympathetic look. ¡°I know¡­ but we need the money!¡±


    Alex frowned, leaning back on his heels. ¡°I don¡¯t know, dude. We haven¡¯t done that kind of thing since summer. I feel... rusty¡±Alex hesitated, staring down at the floor. Then he nodded slowly. ¡°Okay, fine. But we must be careful.¡±


    ¡°Sure, the lady asked us to come today, so we¡¯re gonna need the electromagnetic field meter, the digital recorde¡ª"


    ¡°Wow, wow!... hold on, hold on,¡± Alex interrupted him ¡°where the fuck are we going to get all that? And now?!¡±


    ¡°Ha! I''m always prepared, follow me...¡± Jeremy said with a smile as he took his keys from the key ring next to the front door. As they walked down the small stairs of the porch, Alex watched his partner closely, he was happier than usual, with energetic vibes overflowing. Upon reaching the car, Jeremy opened the trunk revealing all the necessary devices: the bulky EMF meter that would detect any electromagnetic fields, the digital recorder for capturing EVP (electronic voice phenomena), the thermal camera to spot any cold spots or strange heat signatures, and the motion detectors to place around the house.


    Alex rolled his eyes but smiled. ¡°You¡¯re always so thorough. But that doesn''t mean it''s not too late, Jer. It''s almost six thirty in the evening, this is not the time to do that kind of thing.¡±


    ¡°Well, I''ve already made the commitment, and I can''t do it without my trusted partner, come on, we have a reputation to maintain¡­ pretty please?¡±


    Alex sighed but relented, after all, Jeremy was right, they needed that money badly. ¡°Fine, you win, let¡¯s see what¡¯s really going on in that house,¡± he said.


    ¡°That¡¯s the spirit! Okay¡­ we have everything ready; we just need one little detail.¡± Jeremy gave Alex a signal to stay while he went to the house to tell his parents that they would be out for a couple of hours. He leaned his body out the front door of the house and yelled from the doorway. ¡°Mom, Dad! Alex and I are going to the grocery store to buy some things and then rent a movie, do you want anything?¡±


    ¡°Are you leaving so fast again, mi amor? Well, we don''t need anything... just don''t come back so late!¡±


    Jeremy sprinted toward the car; his face lit up with excitement. ¡°Alex, hurry up!he shouted, tossing the keys to him as he rushed toward the backseat. ¡°You drive. We don¡¯t have a second to waste. Come on, let''s make the most of this!¡±


    Alex barely caught the keys in mid-air, sliding into the driver¡¯s seat and buckling his seatbelt. He glanced over at Jeremy while starting the engine. ¡°Did you lie to your parents?Alex asked, a mix of concern and curiosity in his voice. ¡°You didn¡¯t tell them about this job, did you?¡±


    Jeremy let out a carefree laugh as he slammed the car door shut. ¡°Ha! Trust me, it¡¯s better if they don¡¯t know,he replied with a grin that hid a touch of nervousness. ¡°If they knew, they wouldn¡¯t let me step outside the house.¡±


    Alex raised an eyebrow but stayed quiet. He knew Jeremy tended to act on impulse, and while that sometimes landed them in trouble, that same energy kept things exciting. ¡°Well,Alex muttered, turning the key and bringing the car to life, ¡°I just hope you know what you¡¯re doing.¡±


    ¡°I do! Trust me!Jeremy said, his eyes gleaming with that familiar spark that always showed up when something thrilling was about to happen. ¡°This time, it¡¯s gonna be different¡­¡±


    The car''s engine hummed softly as they inched through traffic and the rain began to rhythmically patter against the windshield. Jeremy sat in the backseat, hunched over the ¡®Quantum Resonator,¡¯ his fingers deftly adjusting the wiring and tightening loose screws. The device, nestled in a modified briefcase, was hooked up to a small antenna and connected to a pair of old, battered headphones.


    Alex glanced back through the rearview mirror; eyebrows raised. ¡°What¡¯s that thing?he asked, his voice laced with curiosity and a hint of anxiety.


    Jeremy didn¡¯t look up, his focus still on the Resonator. ¡°This!he said, tapping the briefcase, ¡°is something I¡¯ve been working on for the past year. It can detect and tune into the specific frequency of a soul.He paused, looking up to meet Alex¡¯s gaze in the mirror. ¡°With this baby, we can pinpoint the location of an entity, not just detect its presence.¡±


    Alex let out a low whistle. ¡°Impressive, but a little creepy. You made this thing while you were alone?¡±


    Jeremy shrugged. ¡°Yeah, when I had too much time on my hands. You know, after classes, while you were working.He looked back down at the device, affectionately patting it. ¡°It¡¯s kind of my magnum opus.¡±


    Alex sighed, gripping the steering wheel a little tighter. ¡°Jer, I need to tell you something. But I want you to promise you won¡¯t get mad.¡±


    Jeremy¡¯s eyes narrowed playfully as he sat back, but there was an edge to his expression. ¡°Okay... promise. Spill it.¡±


    Alex took a deep breath, his eyes flickering between the road and the mirror. ¡°I¡¯ve been thinking, and... I¡¯m not sure I want to keep doing this, its dangerous dude. We¡¯ve been lucky so far. And now with that device in our hands¡­¡±


    Jeremy''s face twisted in shock. ¡°What?! You''re scared now? After everything we''ve been through, you want to back out! Alex, this device will make our lives easier.¡±


    Alex winced, his grip on the wheel tightening. ¡°Look, I¡¯m just saying we need to be more careful. That gadget of yours¡± he pointed back toward the Resonator ¡°you need to keep that under wraps. If anyone finds out about it¡ª¡±


    ¡°Why?Jeremy scoffed, hugging the briefcase closer. ¡°This could revolutionize paranormal investigation. I¡¯ve spent three years of research on this!¡±


    ¡°Or it could get us killed!¡± Alex shot back, his voice rising. ¡°The government doesn¡¯t play nice, Jeremy. If they find out this thing actually works, they¡¯ll bury us six feet under and take it for themselves.¡±


    ¡°C¡¯mon, you sound like a conspiracy theorist. I¡¯m not going to go around announcing it to everyone.¡± Jeremy rolled his eyes. ¡°Besides, the government probably spies on us through our phones anyway.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, yeah, whatever. Just... be smart, okay?¡±


    Silence settled in the car as they continued toward their destination, the tension thickening with each passing minute. The street was eerily quiet, the only sound the rain pelting against the asphalt. They parked in a clearing of dirt and dust in front of a modest two-story house with a small porch. It looked like any other house; the strange thing was that it was in the middle of nowhere. There was something strange about it, something intimidating, as if the house foreshadowed their arrival.


    ¡°Do we have everything?¡± Alex asked, his voice hushed as if the house itself could hear them.


    ¡°Yeah,Jeremy nodded, ticking off the items in his mind. ¡°Flashlight, EMF reader, spirit box, and the Resonator. Enough to survive, I guess.¡±


    They approached the front door, the sky darkening as evening fell. Jeremy rummaged through the mailbox, pulling out the key. ¡°Bingo,¡± he whispered, holding it up triumphantly.


    The inside of the house was dark and still, the air heavy with the scent of damp wood and something else, something faint and bitter that Jeremy couldn¡¯t quite place. They moved methodically, setting up night-vision cameras in the living room and hallways. As Alex strolled through the dimly lit house, a dim glow coming from the kitchen caught his eye. Curious, he walked over and found a stack of homemade cupcakes neatly arranged on a two-tiered stand on the counter. Each cupcake was carefully decorated with whipped cream, drizzled with strawberry jam, and adorned with tiny flickering candles. The scene was oddly out of place, almost eerie in its presentation. Next to the cupcakes was a small, folded note with their names handwritten in a fancy script.


    Opening it, a few bills slid out as Alex read the contents. It was a thank you letter, written in impeccable cursive.


    ¡°Aww¡­ how thoughtful,Jeremy said, his voice light as he picked up a cupcake. ¡°Double reward!¡±


    Alex hesitated, but eventually took one as well. He ran his finger through the frosting and tasted a tiny bit. Sticky. Too sticky. An unpleasant sensation ran down his esophagus. Something about it felt¡­ off. He''d had bad experiences with his father''s cupcakes before; They had tried to poison him many times. Disgusted, he wiped his fingers on a napkin and put the cupcake back on the table.


    ¡°Nuh, uh¡­ I¡¯m not eating that,he muttered under his breath. Trusting strangers wasn''t on his agenda that day, whether they''re slimy or not, he wasn''t willing to risk it for a sweet treat. They continued with the lights off, hoping the darkness would draw the spirit out of hiding.


    Jeremy settled on the couch, laptop on his knees as he monitored the camera feeds. The minutes ticked by in silence. Five, ten, fifteen. Nothing. Jeremy¡¯s frustration grew as he switched between camera angles, his eyes darting from screen to screen.


    He switched on the Resonator, and the static buzzed to life in his ears. There was a presence here, he could feel it, but it was elusive. He adjusted the frequency, the static shifting into faint, ethereal whispers.


    ¡°Maybe this woman is a junkie who imagines things,Alex murmured into his earpiece, his voice echoing softly in Jeremy¡¯s earpiece.


    ¡°Shhh¡­ Do you hear that?¡± Suddenly, a burst of static erupted from the Resonator, the device vibrating in Jeremy¡¯s hands. At the same time, the distant crackle of a television filled the house, the sound coming from below. Jeremy¡¯s heart skipped a beat. ¡°It¡¯s coming from the basement.¡±


    ¡°Yeah¡­¡± Alex¡¯s voice was strained. ¡°I¡¯m going there¡­¡±


    Jeremy stared at the screen as Alex walked down the stairs. The static grew louder, more insistent. Alex opened the door under the stairs, seeing a staircase leading into absolute darkness. Far below, the flickering light of the television cast eerie shadows in the hallway.


    ¡°I see it,¡± Alex whispered, his silhouette framed in the doorway. Any sane person wouldn¡¯t set foot in there, of course. But when was that an obstacle to curiosity? He stepped inside, and Jeremy watched as he scanned the room with his flashlight, the beam cutting through the darkness.


    The television was against the wall, the screen filled with static. The sound was deafening. Alex cautiously approached, reaching out a hand to turn it off, but the moment he touched the dial, the static changed to a distorted lullaby. The tune was cloyingly sweet, the kind that should lull a child to sleep, but it only served to send shivers down Alex¡¯s spine.


    ¡°Alex, do you see anything?¡± Jeremy asked.


    ¡°No, nothing,Alex said, looking around the room. ¡°Just¡ª"


    ¡°Tell me¡­ Alex¡­¡± Jeremy interrupted ¡°if you could choose, how would you like to die? Stabbed or with your guts out maybe?¡±


    ¡°Jeremy, stop it, this isn¡¯t funny!¡± However, at that moment the voice started to chuckle, it was something evil, impure. ¡°Oh! How about bleeding out, though that wouldn''t be fun...¡±


    ¡°Jer? Please stop¡­¡± Apparently, it wasn''t his best friend he had been talking to all this time. Alex took off the headset, throwing it to the floor, hoping to silence the voice, but it persisted, echoing throughout the four walls. Before he could react, the door slammed shut behind him with a thunderous crash, the sound echoing throughout the house. Jeremy jumped off the couch, the laptop almost falling to the floor.


    ¡°Alex! What the hell is going on?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m locked in! Jeremy, get me out of here!Alex¡¯s voice sounded panicked, his fists pounding against the door.


    Jeremy ran to the door, his heart pounding in his ears. He threw his shoulder against it, the wood creaking under his weight but nothing, he threw a chair against it, but it didn¡¯t budge an inch.


    ¡°Jeremy, please!¡± Alex¡¯s voice cracked, and Jeremy could hear the raw terror in his friend¡¯s words.


    ¡°I¡¯m trying! It¡¯s stuck!¡±


    Inside the room, the television flickered on, and Alex turned around, his back pressed against the door. A figure stood in the corner, just out of reach of the light. It was blurry, like a corrupted image on a broken screen. Its eyes glowed faintly, and a grotesque smile spread across its face, as if its mouth had been cut off and sewn together from ear to ear.


    ¡°Jeremy¡­¡± Alex whimpered, tears streaming down his face. ¡°Open the door, open the damn door! There¡¯s something here¡­¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry Alex¡­¡± Jeremy said, giving up, leaving him behind.


    The figure moved forward, steps slow and deliberate. The lullaby grew louder, a discordant melody that made Alex¡¯s head spin. His back slid down the door as his legs gave way, his entire body shaking.


    ¡°Please, Jeremy, please¡­ don¡¯t let me die here¡­¡± he sobbed, curling into himself, eyes squeezed shut. The creature loomed over him, its breath hot and stale against his skin. The last thing Alex saw were its eyes, cold and empty, before it lunged.


    A bloodcurdling scream rippled through the house, followed by a sickening creak. Jeremy staggered back, his hands shaking as he searched for the exit door. He couldn''t think, couldn''t breathe. He turned and ran out of the house, the scream still ringing in his ears.


    He reached the car and jumped in; his hands slick with sweat as he jammed the key into the ignition. The engine roared and he sped away from the curb, tires skidding on the wet pavement. He glanced in the rearview mirror and his heart stopped.


    The creature stood on the porch, its eyes glowing in the darkness. Jeremy floored the accelerator, his hands gripping the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles turned white. He didn''t know where he was going, only that he had to get away.


    The lights of a familiar theme park loomed before him and he swerved, skidding into the parking lot. He drove to the top floor, breathing heavily. He parked in the far corner, hidden in the shadows. His hands shook as he climbed into the backseat, huddled together, his mind racing. He had no phone, cut off from any help, all he could do was pray.


    He pressed his hands to his ears, trying to block out the sound of Alex''s screams, but they were burned into his memory. He squeezed his eyes shut, willing himself to fade away like dust.


    ¡°Jeremy...a voice whispered, and his eyes snapped open. The car was empty, but he could feel a presence, cold and oppressive, filling the space.


    ¡°Jeremy...he heard the voice again, closer this time, echoing through the parking lot.


    He staggered back, his back against the door as his eyes darted around in search of the source. A shadow flickered at the edge of his vision, and he spun around, his heart pounding in his chest.


    ¡°Why did you leave him, Jeremy?the voice whispered, and he saw Alex standing outside the car, but that wasn¡¯t Alex. It looked like a fully-fledged person except its eyes were sunken, its skin was pale, and it wore an inhuman smile. Blood dripped from its mouth, pooling at its feet.


    ¡°I''m... I''m sorry,¡± Jeremy said in a choked voice, barely a whisper. ¡°I didn''t mean to...¡±


    ¡°Liar! you know that¡¯s not true,the voice was now a low growl, full of sorrow and rage. He pressed his face against the window, his eyes burning into Jeremy''s ¡°But don''t worry, the same will happen to you...¡±


    The entity ripped off one of the windshield wipers, threw open the car door, and slammed him against the windows. Jeremy screamed into an empty parking lot, where no soul could come to his aid. He gasped, gasping for air as he looked up, his vision blurring. The creature loomed over him; its mouth stretched into that horrible, twisted grin.


    ¡°Please...Jeremy sobbed, his hands clawing at the seat of the car, but the creature didn''t care. It lifted the wiper, stabbing it multiple times into his body, tearing him apart piece by piece. The pain was indescribable, a white-hot agony that consumed him as the creature tore at him, ripping his skin, breaking his bones. His muffled screams echoed through the empty garage, as he slowly drowned in his own blood.


    And then, as his vision faded, he heard it. The lullaby, along with a male voice. The melody, soft and sweet, a grotesque parody of comfort as the darkness swallowed him whole.