Chapter 13
The weight of the man's words hung in the air like a thick fog, suffocating the space between them. Olivia's mind raced, her heart pounding in her chest. The house seemed to hum with an unnatural energy, its walls shifting with every breath. It was as if the very foundation of the place was alive, watching, waiting.
Her siblings were still standing behind her, James gripping her arm tightly, his face pale with a mix of confusion and fear. Henry's eyes darted between Olivia and the creature that had once been Lila, the tension in the room palpable. The figure that had appeared before them, the man with the dark, haunting eyes, stood unmoving, his presence filling the room like a shadow.
"You're wrong," Olivia whispered, her voice trembling but determined. "This isn't me. This isn't who I am. I won't let this house—this thing—take me."
The man tilted his head slightly, his lips curling into a smile that sent a chill down her spine. "You don't have a choice, Olivia. This house has a way of making you see what's beneath the surface. What's always been there. What's always been a part of you."
His words were like poison, seeping into her thoughts, twisting them. She could feel the pull of something ancient and terrible, something that had been buried deep inside her for so long. It was a feeling she couldn't escape, no matter how hard she tried. She wasn't sure if it was fear, or something darker, but it was there, creeping beneath her skin.
"We'll get out of here," James said, his voice low but fierce. "Together. We'll fight this. We won't let it take you."
Henry stepped closer, his hand resting on Olivia's shoulder. "We'll protect you. You're not alone."
But Olivia could feel it—their words, their presence, didn't seem to matter. The house had a grip on her, a grip that wasn't easily broken. And the man, standing in front of her, seemed to know it.
"I've seen this before," the man said, his voice dark and cold. "I've seen what happens when the house claims someone. They don't come back. Not truly. Not like they were."
The creature behind them let out a low growl, its eyes fixed on Olivia as if it were waiting for her to make a move. The shadows seemed to stretch and twist around her, their dark forms curling like tendrils, as if trying to pull her into the very walls of the house itself.
"What do you want from me?" Olivia asked, her voice barely more than a whisper. "Why are you doing this?"
The man took a slow step toward her, his gaze never leaving hers. "I'm not the one doing this, Olivia. The house has chosen you. And soon, you'll understand why."
The words echoed in her mind, and for a moment, Olivia felt as though she were falling into something deep, something terrifying. She shook her head, trying to clear the fog in her mind. "No. I won't let it. I won't be what you say I am."
James's grip on her arm tightened, pulling her back from the edge of the unknown. "Don't listen to him," he said, his voice full of urgency. "He's lying. Whatever this is, we'll figure it out together. You're not alone, Olivia."
But the man didn't seem to be concerned by their words. Instead, he stepped closer, his presence growing stronger, like a shadow swallowing the light. He reached out a hand, brushing his fingers lightly over Olivia's cheek. His touch was cold, like death itself.
"You're already a part of it," he whispered. "You've always been."
Olivia recoiled from his touch, her pulse racing as a flood of memories surged through her. A sense of déjà vu washed over her, as if the man's words were unlocking something buried deep inside her mind. The memories came in fragments—flickers of her past, moments she couldn't quite place. A childhood filled with darkness. Her parents' cold indifference. The house, looming like a silent witness to everything. The whispers, the shadows, always present, always watching.
"What are you trying to say?" Olivia demanded, her voice stronger now, though fear still gripped her chest. "What do you want me to remember?"
The man's smile faded, replaced by something darker, something more dangerous. "You already know, Olivia. You just have to let go of the fear. Let go of what you think you know."
A flash of images flooded Olivia's mind—flashes of her childhood, of things she had long tried to forget. The dark corners of the house. The feeling of being watched. The whispers in the walls, the hidden things she had never understood. Her mother, her father, their cold, distant eyes. And then there was Lila, her sister, always by her side, always the light in the darkness.
But the memories twisted, changed, became something more sinister. Lila's face began to blur, her smile turning cruel, her eyes hollow. The house shifted in her mind, the walls closing in, and Olivia could feel the pulse of something ancient, something dark, rising within her.
"Lila," Olivia whispered, her breath catching. "What happened to you? What did you—what did we—bring here?"
The man's eyes gleamed with satisfaction. "The house doesn't care about your guilt, Olivia. It only cares about what you're willing to sacrifice. What you're willing to become."
"Stop!" James cried out, stepping forward, but Olivia couldn't look away. The words had struck a chord deep inside her, and she could feel the weight of them settling over her like a shroud.
"You have a choice," the man said softly. "You can join us. Embrace what you are. Or you can stay trapped, like your sister. Like all of us."
Henry stepped forward, his voice breaking with emotion. "Olivia, don't listen to him! This is not who you are. This is not the truth!"
But the man was already turning away, the shadows in the room thickening around him. "It's already begun," he said. "Soon, you'll see. Soon, you'll understand. You're already a part of it."
Olivia's knees buckled, and she collapsed onto the floor, her body trembling. The house seemed to hum with a growing intensity, the shadows closing in, their dark fingers brushing against her skin.
And in that moment, Olivia realized the truth.
She wasn't just a victim of this house. She was part of it. And there was no escape.