Nothing moved for a moment of sheer anticipation.

But then, her presence slithered across the air like a serpent nearing its prey. Lynn felt her throat clench in dread as her body remained still, unable to fight the shivers rolling up her spine when the monster shattered the silence with a shrill hiss.

The wall in front of her swayed slowly, and she was reminded of the hypnotizing waves that formed on the surface of the lake before another victim was claimed by its deathly dance. Out of her peripheral vision, she caught a glimpse of her own shadow moulding into something inhuman. It grew longer, sliding across the cold pavement and blending with the rocky wall until disappearing inside.

Her breath hitched. Something damp and gelid was caressing her skin, breathing on the back of her neck heavily. Her pounding heart tried to fight back, not ready to face the presence behind her yet refusing to let fear take up too much room within.

Suddenly, a shadow reappeared before her unblinking eyes. But it wasn't hers; it belonged to someone taller, skinnier — someone crouching over her shoulder.

Lynn spun around, only to freeze. Nothing but cackling spiders returned her wide stare.

Something grey like ash gripped her shoulder, making her jump and recoil quickly. Turning around, her shocked gaze clashed with a pair of coal-black eyes. A face was drawn on the stone, smirking maliciously at her growing fear with a lipless mouth. And then, a discordant voice spoke to her struggling mind.

"You came close, but this is as far as you get. You don't want a trip down memory lane?" The face stretched towards her, tilting as its black eyes surveyed her horror-struck expression. Shrill chuckles echoed in the air as it suddenly twisted, moulding into the familiar face of Caleb. "I say we take it, little sister."

Before the idea of running crossed her mind, a bloodied hand broke out of the wall and clasped around her neck. A silent cry was all she managed to emit before she was dragged into the stone, melting into the shadow of a demon.

—

White light attempted to blind her, and she closed her eyes as space and time were thrown together into an exhausted war that left her gasping. When her surroundings stopped shining with murderous intent, Lynn opened her eyes.

She wasn't in a cave anymore; the walls were of a pale-brown shade, the room vacant yet full of smoke. The smell of cigarettes was strong, making her nose scrunch up at its dreaded familiarity. She saw herself — a younger version; one just as scared — biting her nails, waiting in a dark hallway behind an open door.

Trepidation was quick to take over in her eyes, as Lynn immediately recognized the scene about to unfold. She opened her mouth to shout at her younger self that her plan wasn't going to work, but her lips were gone, replaced by a layer of unbreakable skin. Impotence started forming in her heart as realization washed over her — she was just a watcher, a witness in a tragedy she had already lived.

Her mother sat by the window with a casual expression that Lynn would've bought had her eyes not been glowing with anxiety. And then, she heard it.

Looming, loud and full of fury. His voice still managed to make her skin crawl, to freeze her body on the spot.

Her father strolled into the living room, bottle of rum in hand. "What is this?!"

Her mother flinched but kept her composure. "What do you mean? It's the rum you bought yesterday, darling." The fear in her voice was so evident, no matter her attempts to sound calm.

"Do you think I'm a fucking idiot?" he bellowed, stomping towards her and making her bolt up. "Were you really trying to drug me, bitch?! Why, so you could run away? You wouldn't last a second without me!"

His slap sent her down so easily, but he never had the chance to continue hitting her like he had many times before. Lynn watched as her younger self rushed in to stand before her whimpering mother, and she was almost intimidated by the fierce look in her eye.

"Don't touch her."

Instead of backing away, her father began cackling like a maniac. Some drops fell from the open bottle as he reached to run a hand along his hairy face. "I should have known. Your mother is too dumb to try something like this, but you... You have guts!" The woman stood her ground when he smirked in her face smugly.

The front door swung open then, and Lynn felt her heart stop at the sight of her brother. Caleb stopped dead in his tracks, noticing his mother on the floor and his sister facing the monster that was his father. His hazel eyes — just like hers — widened, before his jaw locked.

"Caleb."

Watching the relief in her younger self's voice, Lynn knew that feeling would abandon her body soon, only to be replaced by raw rage and agony. Because just like she remembered, it happened too fast for her to react.

One second Caleb was striding towards their father, set on protecting her. And the next, the bottle with the drug was smashing into his head.

Her world broke again; her muffled sobs were her younger self's agonizing cries. Younger-Lynn landed on her knees by his bloodied face, screaming for him to move. Her emotions were so raw, so pure that Lynn felt them hit her heart like it was the first time.

One second Caleb was alive. And the next, he was lying on the floor — still, frozen.

Dead.

She watched through watery eyes, unable to move and wishing it was her who picked up the broken bottle instead. But she could only observe as her broken, younger self turned towards her abusive father and sank the glass into his neck before falling on her knees again.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Caleb."

Lynn waited for it to be over, for the scene to disappear so she could scream before guilt and desolation ate her alive. But something amazing happened then — Caleb opened his eyes and looked at her; not at the person hugging his still form, but at the one who was witnessing the tragedy again.

"Don't let her win, Lynn. Don't let your emotions give Kristine access to your mind." His voice was soothing, just like she remembered it to be. Calm, collected, understanding — that was Caleb. "You need to live free of these pessimistic feelings."

And suddenly, Lynn could speak again; as if the force holding her back lost all strength over her. She tasted her tears, the salty water collecting around her mouth, and croaked out, "I don't know how to."

Caleb smiled sadly. "We can only heal our scars by coming to peace with the things that created them."

Automatically, her eyes landed on her father's pale face. But Caleb shook his head and drew her attention towards someone else: the woman weeping over his dead body — herself.

"Forgive yourself, Lynn. Stop dwelling in the past or you won't be able to find a future." His voice changed then, becoming that of a woman she instantly recognized. "My grandson should do the same."

—

A stinging pain shot up her leg, and she snapped her eyes towards the claw marks that had appeared on her bare skin. Frowning, she lifted her gaze and blinked several times. Its glowing eyes were observing her closely, bringing a sudden realization that fell over her like a shower of gelid water.

Lynn was in the cave, lying on the humid ground under the watch of a dim, orange light. Her body felt heavy, numb and cold, but Lynn forced it to move. With the strange conversation with his deceased brother still fresh in her mind, she ran her trembling fingers along her sweaty face and glanced at the owner of those familiar, yellow eyes.

Andrew's words echoed in her head as she stared at the cat, silently putting the pieces together.

"There's something about her that seems to keep Kristine at bay."

A grunt shook the air, diverting her attention towards said man. Her eyes widened at the sight of his slouched form, taking in the pain stretched across his face. His back was pressed against the rocky wall as his body writhed with every spluttered gasp.

"My grandson should do the same."

Lynn snapped her head towards the cat, only to find those eyes already on her. "Help him," she muttered while glancing around frantically — the situation finally sank in. A weak meow rang behind her the moment she stood up, and she looked down with a frown. "You have to protect him."

He's your grandson.

Swiftly turning around, she searched the small cave with her eyes and finally found what she was looking for. As quickly as her limping leg allowed her, Lynn reached towards the oil lamp.

"Meow!"

The cat was flung in the air, landing by her feet after its black body slammed into the wall. Lynn froze as laughter filled her body with trepidation, and her hair stood on end as a shadow loomed over her.

"You think that old hag can stop me now?" bellowed the inhuman voice of Kristine behind her, before Lynn was sent crashing on the hard ground.

Her ankle cracked as it twisted beneath her body, and she let out a pained scream while quickly rolling on her side. A foot stomped on her stomach, making her gasp and cough. Wrapping her hands around it, Lynn lifted her wide gaze to meet his empty eyes. Andrew stood above her, yet she knew better — he was far away, locked up in a cage inside his mind while another soul controlled his actions.

Lynn squirmed under his foot and wheezed. "Don't let her control you, Andrew."

Much to her demise, the man showed no sign of having heard her pleading voice and the monster possessing him smirked. "He's out of town, dear. It's just you and me now, but worry not, you'll be seeing your friends soon. No one will save you this time."

Her hand searched the ground around her, finding something sharp and cold around which she curled her damp fingers. As the monster leaned down and the smell of death fanned over her face, Lynn took the opportunity and swung. A startled noise escaped Kristine as she stumbled back, giving the woman enough time to scramble to her feet and attack again.

"Worry not, I can take care of myself just fine," Lynn hissed, paying no mind to the weapon she was using and slamming the thick bone against the man's face.

As the body of Andrew went down, Lynn wasted no time throwing the bone to join the rest and rushed to grab the oil lamp. However, her blood ran cold the second she turned around to finish her task.

Because Andrew was standing over the bones, twisted grin on and trail of thick blood caressing the side of his face. It was enough to make Lynn hesitate, yet she still gripped the oil lamp tightly and took a step forward.

"You want to take me down? You will have to kill him, too." Kristine spoke through him with an unwavering voice laced with amusement — mocking. His head tilted, shrill laughter froze the air. "Do you have what it takes, Lynn?! You're alone now."

Movement caught her eye, and her lips curled upwards.

"No, I'm not."

Molly — Mrs. Houston — jumped on him, sinking her sharp teeth into his forearm. The walls seemed to shake as a bone-chilling scream ripped from Kristine, whose attention was now on her greatest enemy.

"I won't be taken down!" hollered the monster, too focused on the cat to see Lynn pushing Andrew's body out of the way.

With one last war cry, Lynn smashed the oil lamp on the bones. Instantly, fire erupted from them. Large flames licked the air, sliding towards every nook and breaking her out of her sudden trance. Spinning around, she noticed Andrew's form by the stairs — unconscious, she prayed upon not receiving an answer when she called his name.

Limping over, she picked him up and tried to move away from the growing fire. Suddenly, the trapdoor above them opened. Relief flooded her body at the sight of Oliver and Nick, who wasted no time rushing to her aid.

One last wail crawled up the walls to reverberate throughout the lake house, before the fire consumed the remains of the nightmare.

Only when the refreshing, summer breeze hit her senses did she pause to look back.

The cat sat by the open front door. Its glowing eyes blinked at Lynn, drifting to the unconscious man for a fleeting moment before meeting hers again. And then, her saviour shifted to lie down on the rumbling floor.

"Thank you," mused Lynn. "May you finally rest in peace."

It was over. They were alive.

However, the feeling of being watched never truly disappeared.

▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂

A/N: No, this ain't over yet.