I'll open the chest," I said. Connor nodded. As I went to the chest, it was like there was a rope tied around my waist, pulling me back. My limbs felt like they were encased in jelly. I cursed, nearly dropping my knife as I went under the floating doll.

The toy chest was locked. There was a tiny padlock, so small that if I curled up my pointer finger it would almost be the same size. I didn't have any experience in picking or breaking locks, but I had a feeling the lock wasn't very durable, so I put the tip of the knife through the shackle and forced it through.

The padlock broke like the ones that come with Secret Diaries they sell at book fairs and rust up within three weeks of being in an 8-year-old's backpack. The two parts fell on the floor as I opened the chest and called Connor's name.

He jumped up, grabbed the doll's leg and threw it down. We heard something break when I slammed the chest shut.

"Did we break it?" I asked, bending down to pick up my knife.

The chest started shaking as bugs crawled out of the cracks. Connor sighed. "There's a kid playing outside, right?"

A high-pitched laugh rang out to answer him. When we took the doll back out, its face was back to normal except for the right half of its head which was shattered. No gaping mouth or bloody eyes.

On one of the beds, something caught my eye. A face that was not mine was shown in the old hand mirror I picked up. It had pearls and shells in it, and it was pretty, but the face bothered me and I made a sour face and smashed it on the ground.

"Hey," I called to the child in one of the benches by the window, swinging his feet. Connor held out the doll, and the child took it and stared at us. I nudged Connor to go back to the room. As we went back, there were no other footsteps or voices aside from our own. Then, just when I reached for the doorknob, the child stepped in front of us. Connor yelped and silver flashed in my eyes.

I only had a second to process that one of the child's eyes was red and rolled back with a knife sticking out of his head. I heard a strange, high-pitched sound, snapping me out of my thoughts. I realized it was squeaking as Connor pulled me back into the room, locking the door.

We stared at the corpse on the floor, knowing what to do but not doing it at once. "Okay, so, feed the thing, and then...?"

"Maybe get the herbs," I answered. "Are we just going to drag it down?"

"Looks like it. Can I borrow your sweater, Y/N?"

In the middle of carrying the corpse down the stairs, I asked, "Connor, did we leave the teapot in the room?"

"Yeah. I think it'll be okay."

I nodded.

We lay the corpse down in the living room. If you stood in the living room, you would see straight into the kitchen. Between the living room and dining room were two hallways, one on the left and one on the right. The one on the right had a table and stairs leading down, the one on the left led to the dining room. Every room except the living room was in darkness.

Connor came back from peeking at the dining room. "There's something in there, Y/N." He pointed at the stairs leading to the basement. "And whatever's in there is hungry."

"Yep." I looked at the corpse sitting on the couch, wrapped in my sweater. "Did you have to lay it down like that?"

"Would you like it to be on the ceiling?"

A chill ran down my spine. "No, thanks, I'm good." I saw a switch beside the door frame, with no label. The squeaking from the dining room got louder. I held a fistful of his jacket, tugging lightly. "Come here."

He stood beside me, smirking. "Does someone like physical contact? Is the girl touch-starved?" He put an elbow on a nearby shelf and propped his chin up on his hand.

I pushed his arm so his head lost support. He hit me lightly. "Jeez, I was just joking."

"If this is the wrong switch and the room goes dark, hold me. Please."

"Sure," he said, grinning mischievously.

The switch gave a little click when I pressed it. Light appeared in a rectangle shape in the space where the living room, kitchen, dining room, and hall to the basement connected.

"You turn the switch on and I'll move the Entity's food," Connor said, straightening up. I nodded.

The dining room wasn't much to take in. Just greasy furniture and coal stains on the walls. I heard a thump as the corpse was put at the top of the stairs, just as the rules said. At Connor's "go, Y/N" I flipped the switch near one of the empty picture frames.

Connor and I met in the middle of the hallway, then went back to the back to the living room to hide. I squeezed under a floating shelf, between a couch and the wall. A big box sat opposite my seat and Connor stayed there and peeped through the transparent stripes among the black lines.

For about 3 minutes we stayed there, doing our best not to move or make sounds. My fingers were clenched around the handle of my knife. It felt like hours. Then, a feeling settled over me. There was no actual sound, but I could hear something. You know when something comes close to hitting your face, or when you fall down and think for a moment, is this the end? dramatically? There's a loud ZIP or buzz in your ears. When you close your eyes too suddenly on reflex, you'll hear it. That's what I heard, except it lasted much longer.

It went on and on in my head until Connor stumbled out of his hiding place, long legs nearly kicking the lid off. I stood up and opened my mouth to ask him if the blood had appeared, but no words came out.

Something dripped down on my shirt. A mouthful of crimson leaked from my lips and it dripped off my fingertips when I wiped it away. Connor closed the door to the basement then went to me.

"Are you okay? I mean, it doesn't hurt anywhere, right?"

I coughed. "Yeah. I'll wash up in the room later."

Another loud sound rang through the mansion—the grandfather clock signaling midnight. I looked down the hall; the corpse was gone and the Third Entity was fed. I left a bloody handprint on the wall before leaving, when I crouched down to get my knife from the under the couch. The blood dripped down like candle wax and I tore my eyes away from the sight.

We made sure no one was in the garden before bending down and cutting herbs. "Can't we just, like, rip them out or something?"

"Unless you want roots and dirt in the teapot, no," I said, still amazed at how quickly the knife could cut things. Just one swipe could slice something cleanly in half. I wondered if whoever lived in the mansion before we came needed to do this too.

There was one herb that had a hard stem and I failed the first two times. I sighed, adjusted myself and tried again. I wanted to go home, to hug my dad and play with my cat, to stay in my bed and forget this ever happened. But that couldn't happen. This wasn't a dream. I had to do what I had to do and I would push myself to finish it.

Connor appeared beside me, taking one of the stems and brushing his hand against mine. "Need some help, Y/N?"

Finally my blade started working with me and I got the herb. "No, thank you."

"I—We stabbed three things today. Definitely not the normal number for everyday."

"Three?" I asked.

"The shadow thing here earlier, the child, and that," He said, counting on his fingers then pointing over my shoulder. I turned around and saw nothing but a wall and some pots.

"What that?"

"There. Can't you see it? With the fangs and no eyes?"

I stared at it, trying to see something. "Connor, you're really scaring me right now."

He gasped and jumped back, then relaxed. "Just kidding. It's my payback for earlier," he said.

On the way back, I stared at the herbs in my hand. They're not poisonous, are they? Why did we have to put them in the water, anyway? I caught Connor staring at me. "What?"

"Nothing," He said, grinning up at the ceiling. "You're pretty when you're focused."

The butterflies in my ribcage and the smile we exchanged covered up the fact that we were in a place where unnatural things happen. Comfort was nice.

"Yeah, you too, Connor," I said, biting back a grin, running my fingers over the leaves of the herbs in my hand.

"Really?"

"Shh." I pulled him back into the room just as the singing woman came around the corner.

As I washed my hands, knife and mouth in the bathroom, Connor asked, "So we're just gonna put it in? What if it turns blue or something?"

I dried my hands and put my knife on the dresser. The curtains were open, but I didn't think it would make a difference because the moon could only be seen from the other side of the mansion and there were no stars. I flipped on a switch near the door and locked the door. The painting of the woman had not moved.

"Just put it in." I put a handful of the herbs in the drink and watched them float. "It looks like the potions I made when I was a kid. Minus the rocks, mud, and twigs."

Connor took off his jacket and frowned. "Really? Mine had soap, shampoo, baby powder, glue, saliva—"

"Ew!"

"Hey, I was 6!"

I looked at the contents of the teapot with distaste. "Do you think 6 year old us would want to drink that?"

Connor laughed. "Maybe."

I don't think they would. I had to chew the herbs and force myself to drink it because it was the only edible thing we found so far. The blood on my white shirt had dried and flaked, so it was easy to scrape off while I sat on the bed. I was about to fall asleep, staring at my hands when someone knocked at the door again.

"Y/N, let's go," Connor said, turning off the lights. I tied my hair back, got up and crawled into the bathtub. Almost at once the door banged shut, Connor hadn't even sat down yet.

We locked eyes and realized the butler hadn't left anything. I grabbed my coat, stuffed the paper with the rules in its pocket and both our knives in the other. Connor took the teapot and we went out to go to the music room.

It was very dark, even with all the curtains open. Very dark and still unnaturally quiet. Our footsteps seemed to be magnified. In the middle of the stairs, I nearly stopped moving from shock. A chill ran down my back, but not the regular kind. It was like a bucket of icy water was dumped on my head, but it was just the temperature that affected me, not the wetness. I gasped shakily and began to move faster. Connor looked like he felt it too, only less bothered.

"Don't you feel it?" I asked, warming my fingers as much as I could.

"The cold?"

I nodded. Suddenly I felt two hands on my back and I was shoved forward. I thought I was lucky to be at the foot of the stairs already when I stepped forward and my ankle bent the wrong way. I had forgotten about the fake stair.

It all happened in a flash; I fell and my head spun as if I had been turning in circles for 5 minutes. My head hurt so badly that it was hard to keep my balance. I was propped up on the floor by my arm, when I tried to get up pain shot up my leg.

I cursed, not knowing how to say anything else at the moment. Connor rushed past me and I tried to get up again, but instead crawled on the ground, dragging my right leg as much as I could.

"Y/N! Can you walk? Is it broken?" Connor asked, helping me up by my hand.

I got up as he slung my arm over his shoulders and we went to the library. A moment later we sat on the couch of the library, with me gnawing on my bottom lip trying to make sense of what just happened. Connor told me to stay in my seat as he stood up to open the curtains.

To take off my coat, I had to lift myself up with my left side, and I was panting by the time I had sat down again. I wiped the sweat off my face and took out the contents of my coat's pockets. The paper with the rules was crumpled and the knives had torn a hole.

Connor sat down beside me and looked around. We sat in a library, a little cramped, with bookshelves lining the walls. The only parts that didn't have books were the windows, the column of the wall where a fireplace was, and the door. We sat on the couch opposite the door, with our backs facing the biggest window. The window behind us showed a view of the river. Everything was mahogany or steel. The carpet let out puffs of dust wherever we stepped.

"Are you okay now?" Connor asked.

"Yeah. It's not broken, just sprained, I think."

On the windowsill, I saw a box of matches and a candle. I lit the candle and stared at the fire. I was tired, but I wouldn't let myself sleep until we got out of here.

"Hey, Y/N," Connor said softly. "I almost forgot to ask you..."

"Yes?" I answered, staring at the pattern of black roses sewn into the couch.

"Did you understand what the woman in the painting said earlier? You looked like you were thinking about it."

"About what?"

"After you said you were here to feed the Entity. Before she said 'good'."

"What do you mean?"

"She said it in another language and you seemed to know it."

I frowned. I adjusted in my seat and gasped, pain throbbing in my ankle again as I dug my fingers into the armrest. "Shit." I took a shaky breath and glanced at the candle. "She said that it's 'what I know for now'. Makes sense?"

"Unless you found anything new since she said that, no, it doesn't."

"So you didn't understand it?"

He shook his head. "Was it English for you?"

"Yes."

For a long time, we were silent and my body screamed at me to go and curl up into a ball to sleep. I got thirsty and tried to stand up, feeling even worse when a tug in my stomach joined the ache in my ankle.

I sat back down in defeat and reached for Connor, but he was asleep. I remembered that he was here before me, and was probably more exhausted that I was. His arms were folded so he looked like he was breathing into his hand. He had left his jacket upstairs, and I wondered if he was cold. I left my coat beside him just in case.

Putting most to my weight on my left leg, I went for the teapot, but it shattered and the shards went everywhere before I could get close. The biggest piece, which still lay on the table steamed and nearly burned my hand when I held it out. The sound of it breaking was so loud, it still rang in my ears, but Connor didn't stir in his sleep at all.

I flinched, then fell on the floor, groaning as the tug in my stomach turned to a pull over my whole body. I fell on my bad ankle, and my head spun and my foot went numb with the pain. Then, it was like something else had taken control over me. I crawled over to the fireplace, tearing aside the little metal fence. I pushed the logs to the side and groped blindly for something in the back of the fireplace.

I didn't know what it was, but when I found the hatch, I knew I had to go inside. When I pulled it open, I saw nothing but darkness, and yet, I crawled through the tiny passage and suddenly felt like all the air in my lungs had disappeared.

I stood in the middle of the main room, where I stood when I first came here. But it was dark, and a fire crackled under the stairs. Faint chanting could be heard. A vague shadow of...something creeped along the wall. It felt real, but too real, like when you have a nightmare, and all the sounds are too loud and your eyesight is too sharp and whenever you moved your actions would be exaggerated and your head would feel like a lid that's not screwed on properly.

"Hello? What do you want?" I called, but there was something wrong with my voice. it echoed too much and had a strange edge to it that wasn't mine.

"So he did keep his promise," A low voice said, almost a growl.

"Who?" I tried to move and turn around, but my feet were stuck to the floor and my body was stiff. A chuckle resonated through the place, almost amused. Then a gnarled hand covered my eyes and I had no choice but to let it.

When it was taken away, I was in a dark, damp, candle-lit room with a low ceiling. Maybe a dozen bodies wearing the same black cape littered the room, bloodied and beaten. There seemed to be some pattern on the floor, but something dark swirled in the low area. One figure was still up, on its knees and muttering frantically.

With a jolt, I realized I could understand its masculine voice. He was begging to be spared, and that whatever he was talking to could have his grandchild, and he begged to live the rest of his life and never speak of what happened ever again, in exchange of his grandchild. That child would be the last meal to please the Entity completely, the sacrifice to the Fourth Entity instead of the last kneeling member.

The thing that I was talking to earlier growled again, and red lines appeared behind the kneeling figure. I felt like throwing up, as if the blood was being extracted from my own body. I could have thrown up right then and there, if there wasn't a hand clamped over my mouth at the moment the word was finished. L/N, the writing on the wall said.

I was the sacrifice. That person was my grandfather. He put my life in place of his. The twelve-member-sacrifice wasn't complete without someone of my bloodline and the Entities would not leave until they were satisfied.

The Fourth Entity's voice filled up my head like how a syringe sucked in a vaccine. "Now, let me see what's in that insistent head of yours."

"NO!" I yelled in my mind, but my whole life flashed before my eyes before I could do anything to resist. My birth, my first day of school, going with my dad to the business party, falling and spraining my ankle, crawling in the dark hatch.

"Too much," the Fourth Entity said. "Stop pushing me away."

New images flashed in my head. Me crawling out of the hatch, going home with Connor, seeing my dad again. Then a picture of the mansion showed up, a black shadow rising out of it. It soared through the sky, and people below it started convulsing wildly. War and carnage raged through the world, fires lit whole islands and buildings crumbled. Screams filled the air.

Small villages of slavery and abusers started popping up in the places where life could still be found. It was getting worse and worse until suddenly...I was back in the main room of the mansion. The walls were all red and purple, lined with dissected human bodies. The vision zoomed out and the mansion faded into a pile of dead trees, corpses, animals, debris, and something stood on top.

It was a man out of proportion, with a head that was too big and claws that looked too heavy, horns and wings and a wicked, content smile on his face. It mouthed something, and even though there was no sound, I knew it was mouthing my last name. I screamed. "Stop! Stop it! Just stop it! I..." I trailed off, realizing I could move already and that I was sitting on the floor of the dark room with my arms around myself. If I could put an end to this, so no one else had to suffer, I might as well just do it.

"Well?" The Fourth Entity asked, and time seemed to stop.

I took a shaky breath. "I'll do it. I'm the sacrifice. Let me take the weight."

The image of the the Fourth Entity resumed, and it smiled deeper. Its demented eyes bore into my own. It disappeared, then the recent pictures played again, but going into detail. The noise was much louder, they weren't flashes anymore and I was forced to watch, unblinking, the full effect seeming to leave a mark on the back of my eyelids. I screamed over and over again, but not asking for rest. I was going to do what I had asked for and not be selfish unlike my ancestor. It just didn't sound worth it, hold off the enemy just to die a gruesome death in the end.

Just when I felt like my voice was all used up and I was about to collapse, I woke up from that dream-state and all my senses went back to normal strength.

My screams died out as I sobbed into a person's chest, clawing at their clothes.

"Fuck—Y/N, Y/N," They sobbed. I looked up at Connor's tear-streaked face and threw my arms around his neck.

I gasped and cried, taking in the air around me like how a starved child would devour bread and soup. "How—What happened?"

"Y-You were tied to th-the rock and there was s-something there and it looked like it was abs-sorbing you, Y/N, I was so sc-scared," He stuttered with a hoarse voice. Something clattered to the ground but I didn't care.

"H-how long?"

"Hours, Y-Y/N, I had to listen to you screaming for hours and I couldn't get through the fucking door and I broke a lot of things to-to get to you." He had my shirt balled up in his fists and I had mine in his.

"I don't—Are you not h-hurt or anything?"

"I have a few cuts on my hands but what about y-you?"

"I s-saw things—" I stopped, taking in another breath. "I'm f-fine."

I buried my head into the crook of his neck. We stayed like that for some time, minutes, seconds, who knows how long, until I whispered that I think something was wrong, it was too much and that I didn't feel the same. I remembered the things I saw, how the Earth died so slowly but so quickly at the same time.

"Well..." Connor pulled away and I wiped my tears. "At least you didn't end up like Gollum." He tried a weak smile and did finger guns. I cried harder.

"Okay, shit, sorry, shit, bad timing, bad timing," he mumbled, pulling me close again. "Sorry, Y/N." He kissed the top of my head.

The rest happened too quickly. We dragged ourselves out of the hatch, which had led to the same dark room the Fourth Entity had shown me. The bridge had come back, and we crossed it, still in the dead of the night. When we looked back, it was gone. the bridge, the mansion, the forest. The river became sea. We collapsed in the middle of the road, still crying softly, but we were happy to hear normal sounds again. Crickets, faint human voices, muffled televisions and parties.

We almost got run over by a truck, but the driver stopped just in time and called an ambulance. An hour or two later we both sat at the hospital, ankle wrapped up and hands bandaged. I tried falling asleep because I didn't want to keep catching the shadows in the corner of my eye, or hear the foreign language in my head. But I barely got any sleep either. After a few tries of waking up abruptly with Connor rubbing circles in the back of my palm, I decided to just close my eyes and rest until my dad came, and we could all go home and be okay. We're safe.