Or modern paganism is bad. They aren’t. It isn’t. As you know, I think the more that we have people to push back against the church and all their control in this country, the better. But with all sects of people, you’re going to get some bad fucking seeds. And a bad witch is probably the worst of the lot because she has power, and that power can’t be trusted. She can’t be trusted. She didn’t hurt you last time, but that doesn’t mean she won’t next time. And if what we’re doing is inviting that…”
I put my hand in his palm and give it a squeeze. “We’re going straight to the basement, straight to Max. Then we’re leaving. Okay?”
No. You want to find Samantha.
I push that intrusive thought away.
He sighs, squeezing my hand back. “Then I guess we should leave the camera behind this time.” He turns his head, eyeing the camera bag in the backseat.
“Dex,” I warn him. “Don’t even.”
The last thing I want to do is film this. That’s for another time, for something else entirely.
I get out of the car, and he joins me by my side, grabbing my hand.
We walk toward the house and I notice things I never noticed before, like the flowers in the beds that are still blooming despite being the end of November, the new paint job on the exterior. Even the windows are no longer boarded up. In fact, now that I think back, they weren’t boarded up when we were here last week.
It’s like the house is getting…younger.
I’m not quite sure what that means.
Dex doesn’t even go for the key under the mat this time. He just puts his hand on the handle and it opens for us.
We exchange an anxious glance and then step inside. At least we both have strong flashlights, and I have backups in my purse.
The door closes gently, but it sounds like it’s sealing us in.
It’s dark, deadly quiet, and we’re alone.
I expected Maximus to come greet us, but then again he doesn’t know we’re here.
Dex raises a finger to his lips, motioning for me to be quiet, as if I’m suddenly going to start chatting about the weather, and we slowly creep across the hall, shining the light in the dark corners as we go.
Then I stop dead.
I gasp.
Down at the end of the hall, coming out of the cavernous darkness of the dining room, is a man.
Lying still on the floor.
Who the hell is that? Dex asks me in my head.
I have no idea. It’s hard to see from where we are. The man is lying at the top of the two steps that lead up into the dining room. The room still has that effect of being a black hole, of swallowing light, so it’s hard to make out anything except his head and torso, his arms stretched in front of him, hands dangling over the edge of the step.
For a moment I fear it’s Maximus and he’s dead. Again. But the more I stare, the more I can see greying hair. It’s not him.
But who is it?
We should go to straight to the basement, I tell Dex.
Of course my fucking husband starts walking down the hall toward the person.
“Dex!” I hiss at him.
And then the man lifts his head from the floor.
Looks right at us.
I shouldn’t have opened my mouth.
Dex goes still while the man looks from me to him and back again. In the shadows he looks gaunt, his eyes round and black like a shark.
Then he starts to move.
Pulling himself down the steps.
Thump.
Thump.
And that’s when I realize he really is just a torso.
The bottom half of him is just a bloody trail, legs missing.
Probably chopped up.
“It’s Victor Poe,” I manage to say, my body starting to shake in fear. “Dex, come on.”
Dex seems mesmerized, watching as Victor pulls himself along the floor, coming for us. He’s slow at the moment, but there’s no telling when he might pick up the pace.
I quickly stride over to Dex and grab his arm, pulling him to me, just as Victor lets out a raspy growl, teeth snapping.
Holy shit.
He’s moving faster now.
Finally Dex snaps out of it, and we hurry back down the hall and down the stairs to the basement, taking them two at a time until we get to the closed door to the smoking room.
I bang on it as lightly as possible. “Max. Max, it’s us. Hurry up and let us in.”
No answer. I press my ear to the