Chapter Eighteen

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The third floor of the solitary house was a trapezoidal attic.

The attic’s sole window faced the front of the house, and beneath it, a heavy curtain lay scattered on the floor.

Kelly knelt before the window, her back to the stairs, gazing out at the curtain of rain beyond. Her cropped shirt had been torn wide open, exposing several bloody welts across her back.

Rani paused at the top of the stairs, raising a hand toward Kelly’s silhouette. An orange glow in the shape of a palm hovered behind her, gently patting her shoulder.

Slowly, Kelly rose and turned to look at Rani.

“Just checking,” Rani said, “I’m glad it’s really you.” She glanced down at the floor between them.

Dozens of burning candles were arranged on the attic floor to form a raised shape. To be precise, it resembled the letter “Ω,” though the two lower bends lacked inward curves.

“He knows everything,” Kelly murmured, “He knew you would come, and he knows how to deal with you.”

“Whatever,” Rani replied coolly. “Are you ready to leave this haunted place?”

Kelly bent down, picked up a candle, and pointed it at Rani’s face. “No, I don’t want to,” she said through clenched teeth. “And he won’t allow it.”

“Rani, I need to say a few words to her.” Cort’s voice came through the communicator.

“Or I could just put her in a light sphere and push her out the window,” Rani retorted.

“Unfortunately,” Cort said, “that spirit won’t let you do that. For it, stopping you is effortless.”

Rani pursed her lips and removed the communicator.

An orange light orb, carrying the communicator, flew to Kelly and hovered before her.

“Ms. Duan,” Cort’s voice boomed from the orb, filling the attic, “You don’t need to blame yourself for Donald’s death. Even if you believe he first took the blame for your crime, and then committed suicide.”

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“I…don’t know what you’re talking about.” Kelly turned her head aside.

“It all began with a change in you.” Cort spoke calmly. “This change caused Donald to stop tending the fields, and ultimately, led him to work as a maintenance man at the university. In your home, not a single window had curtains. Of course, this needs to be considered in reverse. For an entire afternoon, you thought it was Donald’s thing tormenting you. Don’t be saddened by it; these entities are instinctively harmful to humans. In fact, removing the curtains causes you pain. Also, Donald always escorted you to the entrance of the teaching building. To spare you a few steps, he would first drive through the parking lot into a dead end, then turn around to park—something that makes no sense.”

Kelly glanced at the rain outside, then crossed her arms over her chest.

“Agoraphobia,” Cort continued, “A rare psychological condition, and the change that befell you. Sufferers fear open spaces or crowded places, leading to anxiety or even fainting. After falling ill, you hid at home for a long time. To help you recover, Donald must have tried many ways, including the last one—finding you a job as a dance teacher. You only faced a dozen students, the environment was indoors, and you needed to teach just one class a day, resting at home otherwise. As a professor of psychology, I can’t think of a better indirect therapy. Yet, a contradiction arose. To minimize your exposure to the outdoors, Donald had to drive you daily. If he worked a regular schedule, you’d have to drive home alone after class. The building’s interior was disconnected; to reach the parking lot, you’d have to cross the whole plaza—the very open, noisy space you couldn’t endure. Donald’s decision to become a maintenance man was thus illogical.”

“You really can keep talking,” Rani rolled her eyes.

“I visited the building where your husband worked,” Cort continued, ignoring Rani. “At the end of the first-floor corridor is a women’s restroom. The floor and walls are tiled anew. I believe that’s Donald’s handiwork. But in truth, you know he did it to cover up something else. After becoming a dance teacher, you felt you owed him too much, perhaps told him you didn’t want to depend on him excessively. You decided to drive yourself, but Donald couldn’t rest easy. Unwilling to argue, he devised a nearly absurd solution. There’s a wall in the women’s restroom with nothing installed, situated between the dormitory and the teaching building. Non-load-bearing walls are often made of wooden panels, easy to remove. If I’m not mistaken, behind it is a narrow passage with pipes and wires, and the wall on its far side belongs to the teaching building. So, if you create an entrance on the other side…”

“Drinking fountain,” Kelly interrupted. “In the corner of the corridor. Donald broke it earlier, so no one used it. After dance class, I’d wait a few minutes, until the corridor was clear, then lift the fountain and crawl through the hole Donald made in the wall.”

“But this morning, someone else appeared in the women’s restroom, didn’t they?” Cort said. “Let me be clear: what you did, whom you killed, who took the blame—we don’t care. Our only purpose is to remove the thing that tormented you all afternoon. I mention these details so you remember what kind of man Donald was. Whatever is in this house now, whatever it is, it has nothing to do with your husband. So you owe it nothing, and you don’t need to do anything for it.”

“I…” Kelly hesitated, “I don’t know.”

“Now, I have a request for you,” Cort’s tone intensified. “I know you’ve aided that thing, and I hope you’ll stop helping it.”

“What do you mean?” Rani eyed the communicator shrouded in the light sphere. “She did hit Steven. If you ask me, she did well. What else did she help it with?”

Barbed tentacles emerged from the wall behind Rani, waving in the air, reaching toward her.

“Consciousness change!” Dylan’s shout came from the orb.

Rani spun around, raising her hands in defense.

The light sphere enveloping the communicator moved in front of Rani, unfurled, forming a barrier. The communicator dropped straight to the floor.

One tentacle stabbed at Rani, easily piercing the barrier, stopping just before her throat.

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The glow forming the barrier dissipated instantly.

Rani slowly lowered her hands. “So, you could have killed us all along,” she whispered.

“No one ever said I couldn’t…” The raspy voice echoed through the attic. “Kelly, oh, my Kelly,” it moved to Kelly’s side, “We have discussed this. Speaking with strangers is not permitted.”

Something gave Kelly a gentle push.

“It seems my methods of education are still inadequate,” the raspy voice continued. “Go downstairs now, reflect on your mistakes, and make yourself useful.”

Kelly glanced at Rani, trembling as she stepped down the stairs.

“Now, you,” the raspy voice moved in front of Rani, “my new Kelly, I have prepared a gift for you.”

The tentacle pointed at Rani’s throat drew back.

Rani immediately raised her hands again. A burst of orange light erupted among the tentacles, pushing them outward.

Yet none of the tentacles blurred; instead, they vibrated even more rapidly.

Suddenly, one tentacle struck Rani, knocking her to the floor. Its barbs tore her clothes, leaving wounds along her side.

A gust of air spread through the center of the attic, extinguishing the candles on the floor. Then, several faintly glowing walls appeared around Rani, enclosing her.

Within this newly created space, only the wall behind Rani retained an opening the size of a window. Through it, one could glimpse a dimly lit corridor.