Adex's apartment was quiet. The curtains were drawn, dimming the space to a muted grey. A faint scent of leftover coffee lingered, mixed with something older—dust or perhaps anxiety. When Anna entered, he sat on the worn arm of the couch, his elbow resting on his knee, eyes downcast, as if he had been waiting a long time.
Anna paused at the door, uncertain of her welcome. Her fingers nervously tugged at the sleeves of her coat. She didn't engage in small talk.
"I came to apologise," she said quietly. "On behalf of Jill."
Adex looked up. His eyes showed no signs of anger. He sat with a cold expression.
"She sent you?" Adex asked.
Anna shook her head. "No. I came because you can help her. "She needs it."
He leaned back, arms folded, allowing the silence to last long enough for her to reposition her feet.
"I'm not angry," he said finally. "I did it on purpose."
The words fell like damp wood on a fire. Anna blinked. "What… what does that mean?"
He stood slowly, as if considering every joint before moving. "If we want to help Jill," he added, "we must do so without her knowledge—every move, every word." Otherwise, we are wasting time."
Anna frowned. "That doesn't make sense."
He stepped closer, his voice low but steady. "There's something inside Jill. You've seen it. It listens to her. Thinks through her. It watches who comes close and figures out who's a threat. But if we act behind her back—without her knowledge—then it can't trace us. That's our only shot. It's not about hurting her. It's about keeping her alive."
Anna stared at him like he'd grown a second head. "You sound completely insane," she muttered.
Adex didn't flinch. "I've been reading," he explained. "Learning. It includes demonology and possession cases. There was this woman named Linda Monroe. She lived in Arizona throughout the late 1980s. She claimed she was being haunted. But it wasn't only that. She imagined a man in her mind. She gave him a name. One day, she claimed he became real. Not only real to her, but real in reality. "Doors open, shadows move, and things whisper in the darkness."
Anna's throat clenched. "You think that's what's happening to Jill?"
Adex nodded. "It's the same pattern. Whatever is inside her, it is ancient. This is not at random. It's patient and calculated. "We're working towards something much bigger than we can comprehend."
"Christ." Anna sat down hard on the edge of the coffee table. "This is insane. You're talking about secret plans and imaginary demons. We should call a priest, not sneaking around like we're in a spy movie."
Adex crouched in front of her, speaking calmly and urgently. "A priest will not help you, Anna. Do you think we are the first to try an exorcism? This item... does not follow Sunday rules. It is intelligent. It adapts. "If we move too quickly, we will lose her."
"And what, you want to be the hero now?" She fires back. "You think you're some kind of demon hunter?"
He gave a half-smile that didn't reach his eyes. "No. I'm just a man who became too interested. A risk taker, perhaps. I spent years reading things I should not have: forums, books that are not widely known, occult newsletters printed in the back of nowhere. Half of it is garbage, but occasionally you find something that sticks. Something that fits."
He stood up and paced a little, as if the burden of what he hadn't said was beginning to press down. After a minute, he looked up, returned his gaze to Ann, and spoke.
"I tried to find Linda Monroe a few years back. I sent her letters and emails, but I got nothing. But now, I believe it's time to try again."
Anna folded her arms. "And you think she's just going to open her door, invite us in, and hand over the answers?"
"I think she might, if she knows what's at stake," Adex added.
Anna ran a hand through her hair. "You're asking me to follow you into some shadowy rabbit hole, chasing a woman who might not even exist anymore. For what? A hunch?"
"For Jill," he said softly.
The room fell silent once more.
Then, abruptly: "Do you know what you're asking of me?" Anna's voice cracked. "I've got a kid. I work double shifts. I'm not a chosen warrior. I am merely a woman who wanted to help a fellow woman. "I did not sign up for this."
"You don't have kids," Adex replied quietly, a confident smirk forming on the corner of his mouth.
Anna's jaw sprang open in surprise.
"You researched me?" She asked, her voice just above a whisper, her eyes narrowing with surprise.
Adex shrugged, his tone light yet unsettlingly nonchalant. "That is my hobby." "It's what I do most of the time," he added, smiling slightly.
Anna was dumbfounded. She stared at him in stunned silence, trying to determine whether he was brilliant or insane.
"You think I'm crazy?" Adex replied, his voice rising. "Do you think I wanted this?" I lived a life. I had plans. But then I saw her. And something was wrong. You knew it too; you could see it in her eyes. Do not lie. You knew she needed help."
Anna turned away, arms hugging her chest like armour.
"I can't do it alone," he said, quieter.
She didn't respond right away. Her mouth twisted, fighting herself, until finally she sighed.
"And what exactly do you expect me to do?"
"Help me track Linda down," he said. "Be my eyes. My ears. Someone who can watch Jill when I'm not around. Someone who can keep the mask on."
Anna laughed bitterly. "So we're spies now."
"Better spies than corpses."
She stared at him. Not with warmth. Not with trust. But with some acknowledgement. Like two people caught in the same storm, grabbing whatever wreckage they could find.
"If I get hurt," she said, "I'm blaming you."
He didn't smile this time. "Deal."
She stood and walked to the door but paused before opening it. The room behind her felt even darker now.
"Alright," she said, lifting her chin. "When do we start?"
Adex looked at the shelf beside the window. A shabby binder, stuffed with newspaper clippings and handwritten notes, sat there. He picked it up, placing his fingertips on the corner.
"We start with Linda," he said. "And we pray she hasn't forgotten how to speak."
Anna didn't say goodbye. She just strolled out into the late afternoon, as if trying not to be observed by the sky.