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TW: GORE

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TW: GORE. Shit ton of it.

Where all my commenters? Y'all better comment or I'm not updating lol

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Katrina Diaz

If it hadn't been for those marks, I would have chalked it up to my deteriorating mental health. But it was as real as the air breathed. Confusion rushed through me.

Lurching out of the car, I ran towards the door, uncaring of the ice threatening to trip me down. The brightly painted door was half off its hinges, scarcely serving its purpose. The inside of the house was rather dim, only illuminated by daylight from the windows. The path was still perfect brickwork; the mortar holding back the weeds that have overtaken the neighbouring paths with ease. Though the furniture laid still and covered in dust, the walls were chipped off of paint, and weeds coated by frost had pleasantly overtaken the floor.

Heart hammering in my chest, I weaved through the plants, navigating the staircase. The steps were old, unvarnished and slippery with the recent rain. Grabbing the rail with my free hand, I ascended carefully as my legs threatened to fail me because of the slippery floor. Stalking closer to Kendra's bedroom, I pepped in, noticing footprints. Footprints entered the room and exited it.

As the wind breezed past me, ruffling the plants, I whirled around, fear sluicing through me. Following the exiting trail, I ascended the stairs, heedless of the forthcoming doom lurking in my bedroom on the topmost floor.

'Cursed little witch, you can't resist escaping me, can you?'

Despite hearing Diaval's voice, probably triggered by the nightmares this place harboured, I tried to make sense of the trail of footprints crunched in the snow. They were disoriented and disorganised, as if the person milled about the room aimlessly before disappearing.

Twisting my neck to make sure they weren't behind my back, I squinted my eyes in the dark. My mouth dried and my heart closed into a tight shell, fear blooming on my tongue.

"Who is it?" I queried, snapping my head at the sound of wood creaking.

'You should've died and you know that. Pick up something. You know the drill. Blood for blood.'

Diaval's voice sounded more natural and pronounced. Chest heaving, I inspected the room again.

"Who is it?" My voice shook, more with rage than fear.

'Everything that you touch burns. Not today.' The words were followed by a chuckle. 'Today, you will pay for your sins.'

Anxiety crippling me, I forced my rather benumbed leg to take a step. My vision blurred before I stumbled onto the floor, unable to process why my body felt heavy and my strength drained. Maybe it was fear, or maybe it was because of the screeching sound echoing through the wretched walls.

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