He came to comfort me, put his arms around me like a protective cage, and kissed me on the top of my head. I should have felt safe.
But something weird happened. His arms suddenly felt too firm, too tight… I was trapped. He was containing me, and I didn’t like it. I felt a surge of panic, and when he released me, a smile on his face, I thought the panic would fade. But it didn’t.
It hasn’t.
Dee, I’m terrified of John. My John. And I have no idea why. Could it be that there is something I don’t remember? Something from Chester that I’ve forgotten? To do with him? Did something happen? Is that what those flashes mean… with the hand and the blood and his face?
Why am I so afraid of him? Why do I fear him coming again like I fear Haji’s upcoming ritual? It’s terror.
Mortal terror.
93
6 days until the incident
Naida Camera Footage
Thursday, 27 January 2005, 9:00 PM
Basement
Haji stands in the center of the room, arms folded. Brett and Ari file in from the stairs and stand off to the side, watching Kaitlyn and each other. John follows, spots Kaitlyn, and smiles.
“My name is Haji. I’m Naida’s brother. I don’t want to be here.” He looks at each face in turn. “But you’ve opened a door, and it needs closing. If I allow it to be left open, it will be Naida who pays for it. I ask you now—all of you—to reconsider your decision to be involved tonight.”
Scott enters last. His usual joviality has been replaced with something more solid and reserved.
“Scott,” Kaitlyn says, stepping forward, “is Naida—”
“She’s resting,” he says, his voice firm and hostile. “She wanted me to come here. I wouldn’t have otherwise.”
Kaitlyn swallows and introduces Haji.
Scott nods at him once, and the anger and resistance on his face seem to satisfy the Mala priest.
“I’m trying to convince you to leave. Don’t get any more involved in this. As you’ve seen, it is no game.”
“We’re not leaving,” Ari says, stepping close to Kaitlyn.
John shifts. “I think we’re all agreed that leaving isn’t an option. But, for my sake, would you mind telling me what exactly we intend to do?”
Haji regards them all. “You are all so stupid,” he mutters. “Very well. Kaitlyn and I will be performing the same ritual as was performed by Naida.”
“Are you joking?” Scott snaps. “Did you not hear what happened to Naida? You want a repeat of that?”
“There will be no repeating that fiasco. I will get us into Kaitlyn’s mind—this Dead House you described,” he adds, in Kaitlyn’s direction. “We will all go. We will search the rooms—all of them—for the door that leads beyond her. You will know it if you find it.” His eyes move around every face. “If you do—do not go through it. Call out, and keep calling until we all come to you.”
“Are we seriously doing this again?” John demands. “Kait?”
She nods. “I’m seeing this through until the end.”
“I wish you’d just leave it,” he mutters.
“No standing off to the side this time,” Haji says, looking at Kaitlyn. “You are the ritual. You need to take control.”
“I’m ready.”
“Good. Sit down.” Haji reaches into a pouch on his hip, withdraws what looks like flour, and pours it into a sigil on the floor, one mirrored in the charm around his neck.
John steps up to Kaitlyn. “Are you really going to do this after what happened? After Naida?”
“Yes. I told you.” She takes his hand and squeezes it. “Are you with me?”
“I’m in,” Brett says from across the room.
“I guess that’s the answer, then,” John says “I won’t leave you alone.”
Kaitlyn blinks, then turns away. “What do you need?” she asks Haji, who is sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of a wooden bowl. Inside he has placed three eggs and a sprig of sage.
“Your blood.” He puts out one hand to Kaitlyn. In the other, he holds a knife with a curved blade.
Kaitlyn holds out her hand without hesitation. Her sleeves hide the stitched-up mess of her forearms.
“Hold on a minute,” Brett interrupts. “Is this wise? Her blood? Isn’t that… extreme?”
“And Naida wanting to kill that rooster before wasn’t extreme?”
“Yeah, but her blood? That’s, like, bordering on Satanism or something.”
Haji gives him a distasteful once-over. “You just pray she won’t need to give her life.”
“Hang on, what?” John says.
“This is mental, Carly—Kaitlyn. It’s just… too much. Naida nearly died, and now your blood? I think maybe it’s asking too much.” Brett speaks quietly.
“Just