The Man that Wouldn't Let Go.

Part 1.

Theo.

Boxes lined up in the hallway like a school lunch line. Dust floated in the sunlight streaming through the windows, catching in streaks like tiny golden threads. Theo Carter shifted his grip on the last box from the moving truck. He exhaled, realizing the house smelled exactly as he remembered it. It has the hint smell of old wood and worn carpet. But there was another smell lingering, but he couldn't place his finger on it.

He set the last box down and started to take in his childhood home. Theo was looking around the house, but he couldn't shake the feeling that something was watching him; almost like the house is watching him back. It has been too many years, and Theo felt like this is a fresh start moving in his old childhood home. But the walls pressed down a little too close, and the silence was heavy. Theo brushed off the eerie feeling; Theo started to unpack all the boxes.

~~~~~~

Unpacking felt endless. Every drawer opened to the same stale smell, every creak and groan of the floor made when he stepped on it made him jump. The house was too quiet. Too Aware. Theo dropped onto the couch, rubbing the temples of his forehead. "it's just an old house. Nothing more than that." Theo mutters to himself. Theo continues to sit on the couch, staring at the muted sunlight sliding across the floorboards. He tried to focus on the boxes, labeling them, and unpacking them. But every so often a sound made him pause. The floorboards, a soft tap on the wall, or the faintest scrape. "Get a grip Theo." He laughed at himself, tell himself once again that it's an old house that's just settling. But he couldn't shake this eerie feeling.

He got up from the couch, and he started to reach for one of the boxes on the floor. Opening it and pulling out an old leather -bound journal. Dust coming off, choking on the dust Theo started to have a small coughing fit. Opening the journal, he flipped through it, he came to a page that had the words I'm. Still. Here.

Theo froze. The handwriting... It looked familiar, but he could not place it. He passed it off as one of those visual hallucinations, or maybe someone played a prank on him. A crash from across the house made him jump. His heart thumbed for just a moment; Theo walked to his old bedroom where he heard the sound come from. The door to the room, was slightly ajar, almost like the room was luring him into the room. He knew that this door was closed, no doubt about that. He pushed it open. Nothing. Just an old bed with a simple metal box spring, a wooden desk that the color was bleached from the sun, and a chair in the corner of the room swaying like someone had stood from the chair. But no one was there.
He swallowed hard. "Okay, old house. Weird noises. Nothing more." He said to himself. He turned and left the room and closed the door. Looking over his shoulder, that's when he heard it – deliberate, and almost playful:

"Theo..."

The voice was faint, almost gone with the wind, but it carried the weight of some memory. A memory that was all blurred, he saw to figures and a bright light that flashed. He froze, shivering slightly. The air dropped to a colder temperature. Theo's hair on his arm stood up and goosebumps started to show. Theo looked to his left into the old Mirror that his mother had up on the wall. That's when he saw it. Theo could not believe his eyes. He saw a black figure that was tall staring back at Theo in the Mirror.

~~~~~~

Caidence.

Caidence Ravenwood moved through the world like someone who could see its hidden currents. To most people, she seemed calm, collected, almost untouchable, her eyes the color of blue crystals, always seem to notice more than she let on- the tremor in a voice the hesitation in a step, the tiny shift of energy in a room that others dismissed as nothing. Her office reflected her nature: warm, organized, inviting, yet filled with subtle reminders that the unseen was very much real. Crystals lined the windowsill, books of esoteric knowledge filled the shelves, and a soft hum of incense clung to the corners of the space like a whisper. 

She always been different. As a child, she felt things that others didn't. Shadows that lingered, voices that whispered truths, presences that made the hairs on her arm stick up. Her mother called it imagination, teachers said it was dictations, but her father taught her how to use them, and control them, at least to some level. But Caidence called it clarity.

Her gifts had a purpose. She could feel the threats that bound people to one another- and to the past. Pain, grief, obsession, love- all left imprints. Some people wanted to hide from these vices. Others could not. Caidence had made it her life's work to help those who could not escape their vices. She was patient, careful and relentless. Caidence did not chase spirits; she followed them listening, learning and guiding. She knew that her gut never lies. Lies only fester in the human mind.

Alone in her office she sometimes practice sensing the subtle presences in the world: a sigh of regret trapped in a photo, the lingering echo of anger in an abandoned building, the heartbeat of a soul lost to its own mistakes. Every day, she honed her ability to see what other could not, to walk the line between the living and the unknown. And every day, she knew someone out there was calling her attention- though she did not know who...Yet.

Caidence just finished up with her last client of the day. An older man who's life derailed after his son went missing. She felt so much sadness and regret from the elderly man, she felt bad for what he was going through. He was one of her first clients when she begin her therapy business. When he came to her, his wife had left him, and he was drinking his days away.  She felt his grief and sadness. She couldn't focus on his energy right now. She was ready to go home and have a glass of wine.  
As Caidence is finishing up her report from her last appointment, she sits back in her chair and rubs her face. She looks at the ground for a moment. She saw what looked like and old news paper clipping. She leaned down, and gracefully picked up the paper. She turned the paper over, giving it a once over look. She was more feeling the energy on the paper. 
Anger. A strong sense of anger. Caidence had to put down the paper. In her delicate hands, the paper felt like it was burning her. She took a deep breath, controlled her energy that was rising up. Pictured a shield over her fingers and picked up the paper again. She looked at the headline and it says 
Boy Goes Missing After Strange Blackout.