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23/09/2025

The moment Mia’s fingers brush against his, a sharp chill races up her arm. The night around them shifts—not in a way she can see, but in a way she can feel. The air turns thick, heavy, as if the world itself is holding its breath.

The man’s grip tightens. “Don’t let go.”

Mia barely has time to nod before the darkness moves.

It’s not like stepping forward—it’s like falling, the ground vanishing beneath her feet. The trees, the wind, the distant stars all blur into streaks of shadow and cold. A low hum builds in her ears, a whisper of something ancient threading through the void.

And then, just as suddenly as it began, it stops.

Mia staggers as her boots hit solid ground. Her breath comes fast, her pulse a frantic drumbeat. The air is different here—thick with the scent of damp earth and something metallic, something wrong.

She looks up.

They stand at the edge of a forest, the trees gnarled and lifeless, their twisted branches clawing at a sky that isn’t quite black, but not any color Mia recognizes. A faint, pulsing glow emanates from deep within the woods, casting the world in shifting shades of violet and gray.

At the heart of it all, half-shrouded in the swirling mist, is a structure. Not a house, not a ruin—something in between. Its edges seem to fray and reform, as if it can’t decide whether it exists.

Mia swallows hard. She doesn’t need to ask.

Blackwood is here.

The man releases her hand, stepping forward. His voice is quiet, but firm.

“This is your last chance to turn back.”

Mia grips the locket, feeling the familiar shape press into her palm. Damien’s name echoes in her mind.

She squares her shoulders. “I’m not turning back.”

The man studies her for a long moment, then nods.

“Then let’s go.”

And together, they step into the darkness.

23/09/2025

"The Letter He Never Read"

Daniel sat in his dimly lit apartment, the weight of silence pressing down on him. The clock on the wall ticked rhythmically, a cruel reminder of time slipping away—time he had wasted, time he would never get back.

The letter lay on the table, still sealed. It had arrived three months ago, but he couldn't bring himself to open it. He already knew who it was from. His mother.

She had called him six times that night, and he ignored every call. He was busy, or at least that’s what he told himself. Too busy climbing the corporate ladder, too busy chasing success, too busy for the woman who had given everything to raise him alone.

He had meant to call back. He really had. But work, meetings, and deadlines always came first. And then, the next day, the call came—not from her, but from a stranger at the hospital.

"Sir, we regret to inform you… Your mother passed away last night."

The words echoed in his mind. A heart attack. Alone. In the house she had spent her life building for them.

Daniel had driven there in a daze, stepping into a home that still smelled of her lavender perfume. Her favorite book was still on the nightstand, a cup of tea beside it, cold and untouched. The sight of it shattered something inside him.

In the following weeks, he had handled the funeral, packed her belongings, and tried to move on. But the letter had arrived soon after, addressed to him in her careful handwriting.

He couldn't open it. Not then. Not when the guilt was too fresh.

But now, three months later, he sat at the table, staring at it. With trembling hands, he peeled it open, unfolding the fragile paper.

"My dearest Daniel,

If you’re reading this, it means I didn’t get to say goodbye. And that’s okay, sweetheart. I know how busy you are, and I’m so proud of you.

I just wanted to remind you of something important. Life isn’t measured by promotions or paychecks. It’s measured by moments—the kind you’ll never get back once they’re gone.

I wish we had more of those moments, but I want you to know… I was never angry. I was never disappointed. I love you, always, and I hope you find happiness, my sweet boy.

Please, don’t waste your life chasing things that won’t hold your hand when you’re old. Love, laugh, and live.

Forever yours,
Mom."

Daniel pressed the letter to his chest as his body shook with silent sobs. It was too late. Too late to call her, too late to tell her he loved her one last time.

But maybe, just maybe, it wasn’t too late to change.

And so, for the first time in years, Daniel turned off his phone, walked outside, and breathed in the crisp evening air. He had lost so much time—but he wouldn't lose another second

19/09/2025

Mia shakes her head, the locket trembling in her grip. “That’s not a choice. That’s a trap.”

The man’s gaze remains steady. “It’s the only way.”

Her breath comes fast and shallow. The night presses in around her, thick with unspoken consequences. Damien—lost in the dark, waiting, needing her. And yet, the weight of the man’s words settles in her chest like iron.

She forces herself to look at him. “Why are you telling me this? Why warn me?”

A flicker of something crosses his face—regret, maybe. “Because I’ve stood where you stand. I made my choice.” His voice lowers. “And I lost more than I ever imagined.”

Mia studies him, searching for the cracks in his calm. “Who did you lose?”

For a moment, he doesn’t answer. Then, barely above a whisper—“My brother.”

The words hit her harder than she expects. A fresh chill crawls up her spine. “And you tried to bring him back?”

The man nods once, slow. “I thought I could outplay Blackwood. I was wrong.”

Mia swallows the lump rising in her throat. “And what happened to you?”

He exhales, his fingers curling into fists at his sides. “I became something else. Something… tethered to Blackwood. A reminder of the bargain I made.” His voice turns cold. “A warning to those who come after me.”

Mia’s hands shake. “Then why help me?”

He meets her gaze, his expression unreadable. “Because if you make this choice, I won’t be the last.”

Silence stretches between them, thick with meaning. The wind picks up, rustling the dead leaves at their feet.

Mia grips the locket tighter, its metal cold against her skin.

Damien is out there. Lost, waiting.

And Blackwood is waiting too.

Her next words barely escape her lips.

“What do I have to do?”

19/09/2025

Mia’s pulse pounds in her ears. The locket in her hands feels heavier now, as if it carries the weight of the choice before her.

She forces herself to meet the stranger’s gaze. “And if I say no?”

His jaw tightens. “Then Damien is lost.”

The finality in his voice sends a chill down her spine. Her fingers tighten around the locket as if she could will it to give her answers.

“There has to be another way,” she says, but even as the words leave her lips, doubt coils in her stomach.

The man exhales slowly. “There isn’t. Blackwood deals in absolutes.” He hesitates, his gaze flickering to the locket before returning to her. “But there’s something else you need to understand—if you make this bargain, it won’t just be Damien who’s affected. The balance must be maintained.”

Mia swallows hard. “The balance?”

A shadow passes over his face. “Every life that is taken… leaves an echo. And every life that is returned comes at a greater cost.”

Her breath catches. “What cost?”

The wind stirs around them, whispering through the skeletal branches. The man takes another step forward, his voice quiet but unwavering.

“You.”

Mia’s grip falters. “What are you saying?”

“If you bring Damien back, Blackwood will claim you instead.”

The world tilts beneath her feet. She takes an unsteady step back, her heart hammering. “No. There has to be another way.”

But the man doesn’t argue. He only watches her, waiting.

Waiting for her to understand...

And deep down, she already does.
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18/09/2025

18/09/2025

The night feels heavier now, pressing down on Mia’s shoulders like unseen hands. Her fingers tighten around the locket, her breath shallow.

"Before Blackwood took him."

The words coil in her mind, cold and sharp. She lifts her gaze to the stranger, searching his face for some hint of deception, some cruel trick. But his expression remains impassive, the weight of old grief lingering in his eyes.

She swallows hard. "How do you have this?"

The man exhales, his jaw tightening as if the answer costs him something. "Because I failed him."

Mia’s heart stutters. "Failed him how?"

For a long moment, the only sound between them is the whisper of the wind, rustling through the skeletal branches overhead. Then, finally, the man speaks.

"I made a bargain," he says, his voice quiet but heavy. "I thought I could outmaneuver Blackwood. I thought I understood the price." His fingers flex at his sides, a brief flicker of tension. "I was wrong."

Mia’s grip on the locket turns her knuckles white. "And you expect me to trust you?"

"I expect you to listen," he corrects, his gaze sharp now. "Because if you want to save Damien, you’ll have to make a choice. And once you do, there’s no going back."

Mia’s breath shudders. "What choice?"

The man steps closer, his presence unnervingly calm. "Blackwood doesn’t just take—he trades." He nods toward the locket in her hands. "If you want to bring Damien back, you have to offer something in return."

The night feels colder now, the darkness pressing in. Mia shakes her head, her voice barely above a whisper. "What does he want?"

The man holds her gaze, unblinking. "Something you can’t imagine losing." ❤️

18/09/2025

Chapter 23: The Bargain

Mia’s pulse pounds in her ears. The stranger’s words hang heavy in the still night air.

"You’re not fighting to end the rit*u*l. You’re fighting to save Damien."

She swallows hard, her voice unsteady. "And if I can’t?"

The man studies her. His gaze isn’t unkind, but it’s unreadable. "Then you must decide—what price are you willing to pay?"

Mia clenches her fists. "Who are you?"

The man exhales, turning toward the horizon where the mist curls like fingers against the trees. "Someone who failed, long before you."

The wind shifts. The scent of something old fills the air, thick with decay and power.

Mia steps closer. "What happened to you?"

The man doesn’t answer right away. Instead, he reaches into his coat and pulls out something small, something wrapped in dark cloth.

He offers it to her.

Mia hesitates before taking it. The fabric is cool beneath her fingers. She unwraps it slowly—

And her breath catches.

A locket.

Old. Tarnished.

And when she pries it open—

A picture of Damien.

Her stomach twists. "What—?"

"It was his once," the man says quietly. "Before Blackwood took him."

Mia’s fingers tighten around the locket. "Why are you giving this to me?"

18/09/2025

Chapter 20: The Hollow Man

Mia barely has time to move.

Damien—or whatever is wearing his face—lunges, faster than she thought possible. She throws herself to the side, hitting the stone floor hard. Pain shoots through her shoulder, but she scrambles to her feet, her breath coming in sharp gasps.

Damien turns slowly, that unnatural smile never faltering.

"Did you really think he was yours to trust?" Eliza’s voice echoes, curling through the shadows.

Mia shakes her head, her heart hammering. "You’re lying."

Damien—not Damien—steps forward, his dark eyes empty.

"No," he murmurs. "She’s not."

Mia swallows hard. "Damien, if you're in there—fight this."

His head tilts. "There’s nothing to fight."

And then he moves again.

Mia stumbles back, barely dodging as his fingers graze her arm. The touch burns—cold, sharp, like something trying to pull her apart.

She bites back a cry. "This isn’t you."

Damien—no, the thing inside him—smirks. "Isn’t it?"

The shadows around them pulse, shifting like a living thing. And suddenly, the whispers grow louder, echoing in her skull.

Mia’s vision blurs.

Memories that aren’t hers flicker like broken film—

A boy, standing in the rain, staring at Blackwood Manor with hollow eyes.
A candlelit room. A circle of hooded figures.
Damien, kneeling before them, whispering a desperate prayer.
And then—Eliza’s hands on his shoulders, her lips at his ear.

"Do you accept my gift?"

A sickening yes.

Mia gasps, the images vanishing as quickly as they came.

Her hands tremble. "You wanted this."

Damien’s face shifts. For the briefest second, something real flickers in his eyes.

Regret.

Then it’s gone.

"You don’t belong here, Mia." Eliza’s voice slithers around her.

Mia clenches her fists. "Neither do you."

She turns—and runs.

The shadows scream.

Chapter 21: The Door

Mia’s boots pound against the stone floor as she sprints through the twisting corridors. The whispers claw at her mind, the air thick with something wrong.

She doesn’t look back.

She doesn’t have to.

She can feel him behind her—it behind her. The weight of his presence, the sharp, unnatural breath.

The hallways shift as she moves, walls stretching, twisting, trying to lead her somewhere else.

But then—

A door.

Massive. Ancient. Carved with symbols that glow faintly in the dark.

Mia doesn’t hesitate.

She throws herself against it—

And the world breaks.

A flash of white—too bright, too cold—

A rush of wind—whispering, screaming—

And then—

Silence.

Chapter 22: The Truth

Mia stumbles forward, her breath ragged.

She’s no longer in the manor.

She stands in an open field, bathed in pale moonlight. The air is crisp, clean, untouched by whatever darkness clings to Blackwood.

And before her—

A figure.

Not Damien. Not Eliza.

Someone else.

A man, dressed in black, his face lined with age and knowing. His eyes meet hers, steady and calm.

"You’ve come far," he says.

Mia swallows. "Where am I?"

The man studies her. "The place before the end."

Her chest tightens. "What does that mean?"

He sighs, stepping closer. "You seek to break what was bound." His gaze sharpens. "But do you even know what that is?"

Mia hesitates. "Eliza. The ritual. The curse on Blackwood."

The man shakes his head. "No. Not just that."

He looks past her, toward the shadows curling at the edges of the field.

"You’re not fighting to end the ritual, Mia." His voice is quiet.

"You’re fighting to save Damien."

Mia’s breath catches.

Because for the first time, she realizes—

She doesn’t know if he can be saved.

17/09/2025

Chapter 19: The Fall

The ground gives way beneath Mia’s feet.

She barely has time to ga ❤️ sp before she’s falling—down, down into darkness, the world spinning around her.

Her scream is swallowed by the void.

Then—impact.

She slams into cold stone, the breath torn from her lungs. Pain flares through her body, sharp and immediate. Gasping, she pushes herself up, her palms scraping against rough, uneven rock.

It’s dark.

No—not dark.

The shadows pulse around her, shifting like living things. Faint candlelight flickers in the distance, illuminating towering stone walls carved with symbols she doesn’t recognize.

A whispering fills the space.

Not words. Not human.

Mia swallows hard. "Damien?"

Silence.

She shivers, hugging herself against the unnatural cold pressing in on all sides. The air feels wrong—thick, heavy, like she’s breathing something old.

Then she sees it.

A figure standing at the edge of the light.

Tall. Still. Watching.

Her pulse pounds. "Who’s there?"

The figure steps forward, and her blood runs cold.

It’s Damien.

But… not.

His face is paler, his eyes darker, hollowed by shadows that don’t belong. His expression is unreadable, his movements slow and deliberate.

"Damien?" Her voice trembles.

He doesn’t answer.

He steps closer.

Too smooth. Too quiet.

Something is wrong.

Mia scrambles backward, her breath coming too fast. "Say something."

Damien tilts his head.

Then—he smiles.

Mia freezes.

Because it isn’t his smile.

It’s Eliza’s.

A whisper curls through the air, soft and amused.

"Oh, Mia."

Mia’s stomach drops.

"Did you really think you were the only one who could be replaced?"

Damien lunges.

30/04/2025

14/03/2025

Chapter 18: The House Remembers

The walls shift. The air thickens. The portraits lining the hallway bleed into something else—memories, moments frozen in time.

Mia blinks, her breath catching as the house moves. The floor stretches beneath her feet, the ceiling warps, and suddenly, they are not in the entrance hall anymore.

They are somewhere else.

A grand ballroom, its chandelier broken, its marble floor cracked. Dust swirls in the candlelight. And in the center—

Bl*o*o*d.

A dark stain seeps across the floor, old but fresh at the same time, as if time itself refuses to move past this moment.

Mia shivers. "Where are we?"

Damien doesn’t answer. His shoulders are tense, his fists clenched.

Eliza steps forward, her bare feet silent against the marble. "Don’t you recognize it, Damien?" Her voice is soft, teasing. "You should. This is where it all began."

Mia’s pulse pounds. "The ritual."

Eliza smiles. "The night Damien died."

Mia’s breath catches. She turns to Damien, but he won’t look at her. His gaze is locked on the bloodstain.

"That’s not—" Mia swallows. "What does she mean?"

Eliza circles them slowly, the air shifting around her like a living thing. "He didn’t tell you, did he?"

Mia’s chest tightens. "Tell me what?"

Eliza tilts her head. "That he wasn’t just a victim of the

10/03/2025

Chapter 16: The House That Remembers

The road to Blackwood Manor winds through the mist like a serpent, twisting and narrowing until the trees grow too close, their skeletal branches scraping against the car as if trying to drag them back.

Mia grips the dashboard as Damien drives, his knuckles white against the wheel. Neither of them speaks. The weight of what they’ve learned sits between them, thick and suffocating.

Then, through the fog, it appears.

The manor looms at the top of the hill, a co**se of a house—its walls blackened with age, its roof sagging like tired shoulders. The windows gape, dark and empty. A wrought-iron fence, half-collapsed and rusted, encircles the grounds like a warning.

Mia swallows. "It looks abandoned."

Damien doesn’t take his eyes off the house. "It isn’t."

She turns to him. "You’ve been here before."

His grip on the wheel tightens. "A long time ago."

Mia exhales, forcing her fear down. "Then you know what we’re walking into."

Damien shakes his head. "No one knows what’s inside until it wants them to."

A shiver runs down her spine.

Still, they get out.

The air is colder here, thick with something that feels alive. The moment Mia steps onto the gravel path leading to the manor, the wind dies. No rustling leaves, no distant night sounds. Just silence.

Too quiet.

Damien steps forward first, pushing open the rusted gate. The hinges scream in protest, but he doesn’t flinch. He moves with purpose, like a man walking toward something he’s spent years trying to avoid.

Mia follows, her boots crunching against the brittle grass. Every step feels heavier, as if the ground itself is trying to swallow her.

They reach the front steps.

Damien hesitates.

Mia watches him. "Are you sure about this?"

"No." He reaches for the door. "But we don’t have a choice."

The door swings open before he touches it.

Mia’s breath catches.

The house is waiting.

Chapter 17: A House with No Past

The moment they step inside, the door slams shut behind them.

Mia spins, grabbing the handle, but it won’t budge. She pulls harder, panic creeping in, but the wood is solid, unmoving.

Damien doesn’t react. "It won’t let us out until it’s done with us."

Mia turns to him. "And what does that mean?"

He doesn’t answer. Instead, he looks down the hallway stretching before them. The walls are covered in peeling wallpaper, faded portraits of people with blurred faces staring from their frames. The air smells of dust and something sour, something wrong.

Mia steps closer to Damien, her voice low. "Tell me you have a plan."

His jaw tightens. "Find Eliza. End this."

"And if she’s expecting us?"

A pause.

"She is."

A floorboard creaks above them.

Mia freezes.

Then another. Slow, deliberate footsteps.

She grips Damien’s arm. "We’re not alone."

"We never were."

A shadow moves at the top of the staircase.

A figure.

Tall. Wrong.

And smiling.

Eliza.

Mia’s breath catches as the woman tilts her head, her dark eyes gleaming in the candlelight.

"Welcome home, Damien," she murmurs.

Damien stiffens beside Mia, his fingers curling into fists.

Eliza steps forward, her presence too much, as if the air itself bends around her. "It’s been a long time."

Mia fights the urge to step back. "You know why we’re here."

Eliza’s smile widens. "Of course I do, dear."

She descends the stairs slowly, her bare feet soundless against the wood. "But you won’t find what you’re looking for."

Damien’s voice is like stone. "You took everything from us."

Eliza stops at the bottom of the stairs. "No, love." Her gaze sharpens. "I gave you something. And you wasted it."

Mia’s pulse pounds. "Whatever you did, whatever this ritual was—it ends now."

Eliza exhales a soft laugh. "You still don’t understand, do you?"

The house creaks around them, the walls seeming to breathe.

Eliza steps closer.

"You think I created this nightmare?" She gestures around them. "No, darling. You did."

Mia’s stomach drops.

She looks at Damien. His face is unreadable.

Eliza’s voice is a whisper now. "Tell her, Damien."

Mia’s breath catches. "Tell me what?"

Damien doesn’t look at her.

Eliza smiles.

And the house begins to change.