Chapter 07: The Binding of Souls
Evelyn’s heart raced as she stumbled backward, her hands gripping the doorframe for support. The figure before her—David’s twisted reflection, his face contorted in a grimace that was both familiar and foreign—moved with an unnatural slowness, its eyes hollow pits, staring directly through her as if she were nothing more than a passing shadow.
The air around her felt thick, oppressive, as though it were alive with malice. The walls of the hallway seemed to close in, their once sturdy forms bending, stretching, and warping into grotesque shapes. The light of the moon flickered through the windows, casting sharp, angular shadows that clawed at her skin, as though the very architecture of the house was conspiring against her.
“Evelyn,” the figure rasped, its voice like nails scraping across stone. “You cannot hide from what has already been bound.”
She swallowed hard, the words sinking into her mind with the weight of finality. The thing standing before her, wearing David’s skin, was not her husband. It was the curse—the pact made long before she had entered this house, long before she had placed her trust in David’s promises.
Her fingers trembled as she reached for the mark on her chest, the symbol that had begun to burn with an unbearable heat. It was as though it were drawing her closer to the abyss, tugging her toward something far darker than any nightmare could ever convey. The whispering winds of the house seemed to grow louder, their voices now unmistakably human, but twisted, echoing from the walls like the souls of the long-dead.
“What have you done, David?” she whispered, her voice breaking. Her chest ached with the realization that she was standing at the precipice of a horror she had not yet fully understood, a terror that had bound them both together in a way that could not be undone.
The figure before her grinned, but it was a smile devoid of warmth. Its lips stretched unnaturally, too wide, too thin, revealing teeth that were too sharp, too white. “What was done, Evelyn,” it said, stepping closer, “was done long ago. Before you ever entered the picture. You were never meant to be free.”
The words were like a heavy weight settling in her chest, suffocating her with the realization that her love for David had been the chain that bound them both. The figure’s eyes glowed with an unholy light, burning like embers, its gaze never leaving her face.
Evelyn wanted to scream, to fight back, but her body felt paralyzed. The mark on her chest throbbed, a pulse of fiery heat that shot through her veins. It was as though the very essence of her soul was being drawn into the thing before her.
“David,” she said again, her voice barely a whisper. “Where are you?”
The figure’s lips curled upward, its voice soft, mocking. “He is gone, Evelyn. You knew this. You have always known this. He was never yours to keep.”
Her knees buckled, and she fell to the floor, unable to tear her eyes away from the abomination before her. The air felt like it was closing in, the shadows from the corners of the hallway now shifting, swirling around her feet, pulling her toward the thing that had once been her husband.
“No,” she gasped. “This isn’t him. This isn’t my David.”
The figure stepped forward, its movement languid, predatory. “No, Evelyn. This is David’s curse. This is your fate. The pact has bound you both. The chain will never break.”
Her pulse thundered in her ears as the world around her seemed to slip further into madness. The hallway, once familiar, was now nothing more than a labyrinth of shadows and whispers, closing in on her from all sides.
Evelyn stumbled to her feet, her breath ragged, her thoughts racing. She had to escape. She had to break the curse. But how?
The figure—the creature that wore David’s face—leaned in, its breath cold on her neck. “You cannot run from what is inside of you, Evelyn. The pact lives in you now. You cannot undo what has been done.”
With a desperate cry, she turned and fled down the hallway, her footsteps echoing in the empty house. The shadows stretched before her, following her, pulling at her, the whispers of the house growing louder with each passing moment. She could feel the cold presence of the creature behind her, its footsteps heavy and deliberate, closing the distance.
She couldn’t outrun it. She knew that. But she had to try.
Evelyn reached the staircase at the end of the hallway, her hands gripping the banister as she threw herself upward, her legs trembling beneath her. The dark figure followed, its footsteps now a thundering roar in her ears. She had to find him—she had to find David and end this madness before it consumed them both.
At the top of the stairs, Evelyn hesitated. The door to the master bedroom loomed before her, its heavy wood bathed in the same pale moonlight that now seemed to suffocate the house. She reached for the door handle, her heart hammering in her chest, and paused.
The whispers grew louder, more insistent.
“David,” she whispered again, her voice filled with desperation.
The door creaked open.
Inside, the room was as it had been when they first arrived—elegant, serene, and untouched by the horrors of the world outside. But something was wrong. The air in the room was thick with an unearthly stillness, as though the very room itself were holding its breath. And there, at the foot of the bed, stood David.
He was real this time. She knew it the moment she laid eyes on him. But he looked… different. His skin was pale, and his eyes were wide, consumed by an unnatural dread. His hands were clenched into fists at his sides, and his body trembled with some unseen force.
“David,” Evelyn whispered, stepping toward him. “David, you have to break the pact. We can still—”
“No,” David interrupted, his voice hoarse, broken. “You don’t understand, Evelyn. There’s no way out. The pact has already claimed us both.”
Evelyn’s chest tightened as she reached for him, but before she could touch him, the figure—the creature—appeared behind him, its twisted grin stretching across its face.
The pact had claimed him. And now, it was coming for her.
