Chapter 5

Saturday morning still at the Westbridge Asylum…

The room was wrong. The walls seemed to pulse with something—like memories embedded in the stone itself. Kimmy felt the hair on the back of her neck rise, but she pushed it aside, focusing instead on the chemistry set left from another time. Her hands worked methodically, mixing chemicals with a precision born from years of running a vineyard. Each vial, each drop was carefully measured. The old glassware was almost brittle in her hands, and yet, it felt like it still held echoes of the surgeries once performed here. She had to bring Barney back—there was no room for mistakes.

Miko gripped the ancient surgical tools, the cold metal becoming searing in an instant. The pain was sharp, not just physical but cutting into something deeper, as if the tools were infused with the screams of those who had once passed through these halls. His reflexes kicked in, and he dropped them, the tools clattering loudly against the floor, the sound bouncing unnaturally in the room. His hands trembled, scorched by something far more sinister than mere heat.

Barney stirred, his body twitching unnervingly, like a puppet with its strings pulled too tightly. He lunged for the fallen instruments, his eyes wild and desperate. But Drago was there, his large frame moving quickly, pinning Barney down with the ease of someone used to wrestling larger foes. Barney fought against him, the intensity of his struggle almost unnatural. Drago’s muscles strained, veins standing out as he kept Barney immobilized, a single bead of sweat running down his temple, reflecting the room’s flickering, unnatural light.

And then, stillness.

When Barney’s eyes opened again, it wasn’t Barney. The cold, calculated gaze of Dr. Sudworth stared back at the group. His voice, though coming from Barney’s throat, was laced with eerie familiarity as he addressed Miko as “Jonas”—his former assistant. Miko felt an uncomfortable knot in his stomach. The feeling of Jonas was there, creeping around the edges of his mind, but Miko’s will was iron, unyielding.

They had to act fast. The asylum felt alive, feeding on their presence. The walls shifted, groaning, as if the building itself sought to keep them in. The exit, which had been nothing more than a bricked-off dead-end when they arrived, now stood open, beckoning them forward. The air smelled wrong, filled with the scent of old blood and antiseptic, like a wound left untended. No one spoke. They pushed forward, desperate to escape before the asylum changed its mind.

In Barney’s mind, however, the struggle was far from over. He sat, quietly speaking with Dr. Sudworth, learning the dark, twisted truths of the experiments that had taken place here. The knowledge made Barney feel like he was slipping, not just from the physical world but into something darker, deeper—a place where Sudworth’s mind still ruled. And yet, there was power in that knowledge.

As they neared the exit, the Longshoremen attempted to stop them. The hunters didn’t flinch. Miko’s unsettling presence and Dwight’s raised assault rifle sent the men scattering.

Sudworth, now fully in control of Barney, fought to stay within the asylum's grasp. It took all of Drago’s strength to keep him moving, dragging the body out by sheer force. The moment they crossed the threshold, the unseen chain snapped, and Barney collapsed to the ground, gasping as the possession broke. Sudworth was gone, but Barney was far from okay. The haunted look in his eyes said he had seen too much, perhaps more than he could ever forget.

Outside, the asylum stood quietly, its true nature masked by the late morning light. Tourists and passersby paused, watching as the ragtag group of strange people stumbled out of the building, their expressions a mix of confusion and curiosity. But the group offered no explanation. They were beyond words. Piling into Kimmy’s car, they drove away, each one grappling with the weight of what had just transpired—and what they might yet have to face.

Saturday midday in the car heading to Thornwood…

Kimmy drove with her knuckles tight on the wheel, guiding the car toward Thornwood like it was the only thing tethering her to reality. Her focus was the road, and ahead was The Sanctuary, the former home of Dr. Sudworth, now run as a women’s center by TEA. The past and present were colliding in ways that left an uneasy weight settling over the group. The air in the car was heavy with unsaid things.

In the backseat, Barney leaned forward, his voice low but deliberate as he recounted the grim details of the experiments Sudworth had whispered to him. Miko listened, fascinated despite the grotesque nature of what he was hearing. His mind dissected the anatomical descriptions, the way the creatures had been stitched together, piece by horrible piece. Barney’s tone was detached, like he was recounting someone else’s nightmare—but there was something new in his eyes, something that hadn’t been there before the possession. Knowledge. Cold, hard knowledge.

The car grew too quiet. The weight of what was coming pressed down on them, and the tension snapped when Kimmy swerved off the main road, pulling into a HavenBurger parking lot. The place reeked of grease, salt, and apathy. They ate quickly, their bodies refueling while their minds stayed locked on the looming unknown. The food was tasteless, a dull echo of sustenance, but they forced it down, knowing they had to keep moving.

Back on the road, Kimmy began to feel it—the gnawing sickness that had been lurking since last week. The bite. The cursed thing from the dog-man encounter. Or maybe it was the burger, now churning in her stomach like it had a life of its own. But no… this was different. Darker. There was something crawling beneath her skin, something that wasn’t hers.

Her vision blurred. The steering wheel became slick under her palms, and her grip faltered. Sweat dripped down her forehead, each bead falling like a countdown. Suddenly, the car jerked violently, swerving across the road. Heart pounding in her ears, she wrenched the wheel, pulling it back just in time. The world outside was spinning, but inside the car, the tension was suffocating.

In the backseat, Barney’s eyes locked onto the surgical tools Miko had stashed. A compulsion overtook him—something primal, something not entirely his own. He lunged forward, hands reaching, desperate. Miko reacted swiftly, shoving Barney back into his seat, his grip steady but wary. Barney’s gaze flickered—was it still him in there?

Dwight, ever the pragmatist, didn’t hesitate. The handcuffs clicked shut around Barney’s wrists with practiced ease, locking him in place. "No more surprises," Dwight muttered, but his eyes held something else—concern, unease. The group was unraveling, and they hadn’t even reached The Sanctuary yet.

The car sped onward, the air thick with tension that clung to their skin like a second layer of sweat. Thornwood loomed closer with every passing mile, and the weight of what lay ahead pressed down like the shadows creeping in from the edge of their vision.

Saturday midday, they arrive at The Sanctuary…

The car rolled to a stop outside The Sanctuary, but the place didn’t feel like any kind of refuge. The building, once the home of Dr. Sudworth, now stood under the guise of a women’s center run by TEA, but something about it felt off. The air here seemed to hum with an energy that was neither warm nor welcoming—like the past had seeped into the walls, refusing to let go. Conversations hummed faintly in the air, and small groups of women sipped coffee and wine outside, as if this was just another pleasant Saturday. But for the hunters, there was a tension beneath it all—something lurking, something watching.

They piled out of the car, each feeling the weight of what they were about to face. Kimmy’s legs wobbled slightly as she stood, the sickness still gnawing at her, but she steeled herself. They had no choice but to push forward.

Drago, always eager to take action, decided to make the first move. He squared his shoulders and strode toward the entrance, attempting to bluff his way in. But something went wrong, terribly wrong. Kimmy stumbled as she moved, and instead of offering her a gentle hand, Drago roughly grabbed her by the neck, his movements too forceful, too sudden. She collapsed, her body weak from whatever was coursing through her veins, making it look as though Drago had thrown her to the ground.

Gasps escaped the two women who had been approaching to assist them. Panic flashed across their faces as they rushed toward Kimmy, clearly horrified. Before Drago could open his mouth to explain, something hit him—hard. It was as if an invisible force had kicked him in the chest with the power of a sledgehammer. He staggered back, wind knocked out of him, barely staying on his feet. Confusion filled his eyes, but the panic spreading through the small crowd around them was undeniable.

Dwight stepped forward, trying to salvage the situation. His usual calm demeanor was strained, his voice thick with tension as he tried to explain, to persuade. But the words fell flat, twisted by the situation. The women’s expressions shifted from concern to suspicion, their eyes narrowing. More heads turned toward the scene, phones raised—recording, documenting. What had been a simple plan was spiraling into a public scandal, and the hunters were now at the center of unwanted attention.

Marja, one of the women from the center, stepped out of the building, her presence commanding. Her eyes were sharp, too knowing for the situation at hand. She knelt beside Kimmy, a calmness in her movements that contrasted sharply with the chaos unfolding around them. She introduced herself with a smoothness that felt practiced, but there was something about her—something that made Dwight and Drago feel like she was already in control. Without a word, Marja gently lifted Kimmy and ushered her inside, away from the eyes of the crowd.

As Marja led Kimmy away, Miko saw his chance. He slipped from the edge of the chaos, moving silently toward the tree line. There was something about the woods behind the center—a pull, as if the forest itself whispered secrets. He moved like a shadow, his instincts guiding him deeper, searching for something… anything. But there were no hidden entrances, no clear signs of what lay beneath the surface, just the strange pulse of the earth under his feet.

Meanwhile, Barney used the growing distraction to slip unnoticed into the building. The shadows inside welcomed him, and he moved with purpose, seeking answers. His thoughts were tangled, still reeling from the possession, but there was something here, something he needed to find.

Back in the parking lot, Dwight and Drago could feel the eyes on them. The phones, the whispered accusations—it was all too much. There was no way to explain themselves now. The weight of failure sat heavy on their shoulders. They exchanged a glance, both knowing they couldn’t stay. Without another word, they jumped into Kimmy’s car and tore away from the scene, their minds racing with guilt and frustration, their bodies tense as they drove back toward Brightside.

The Sanctuary...

Inside The Sanctuary, the air felt heavier, as though the building itself was aware of their presence. Marja led Kimmy into a small, cozy sitting room, the kind of place meant to feel safe. But the warmth in the room was cloying, pressing too close. Something was off about the space, and Kimmy couldn’t shake the sense that she was being observed, not just by Marja, but by the very walls.

Marja’s movements were gentle, calculated. She guided Kimmy into a chair, her fingers lingering just a moment too long on Kimmy’s arm—like she was testing something, searching for something unseen. Kimmy didn’t notice at first, still shaken from the events at the asylum. But when Marja placed her hand on Kimmy’s head, the sensation that followed wasn’t comforting—it was invasive.

It felt as though something was reaching into her, deeper than any physical touch could go. Cold fingers brushing against her thoughts, her blood, her very essence. Kimmy’s pulse quickened, her body reacting before her mind could catch up. The sensation grew stronger, like something buried inside her was being unearthed, slowly, meticulously. A flood of strange images and sensations swirled in her head, just out of reach, slipping through her fingers like sand.

Marja’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly. Her calm demeanor never wavered, but there was something sharper behind those eyes now—something that recognized what she was finding. She knew something about Kimmy that Kimmy herself didn’t.

The probing continued, subtle yet relentless, until Kimmy’s body reacted violently, pushing the intrusion away. A wave of nausea crashed over her, and before she could stop it, she vomited, breaking the connection in a sudden, jarring moment. Marja jumped back, surprise flashing across her face—an expression so brief, so quickly replaced with cool composure, that it almost seemed unreal. She left the room to clean up, leaving Kimmy alone.

Kimmy stumbled toward the bathroom, her legs unsteady. Her head pounded, the room tilting slightly as she splashed water onto her face. Her reflection in the mirror seemed wrong, distorted, as if she were looking at someone else. Her mind raced—something had happened in that moment, something she couldn’t fully understand. The way Marja had touched her, the sensation of being peeled open… it wasn’t just strangeness, it was personal. But what did Marja know? What had she seen?

Fear mixed with the ever-present sense of unease that had followed Kimmy since the dog-man’s bite. She could feel her grip on reality slipping—was this place here to help her, or was she walking deeper into danger? A part of her wanted to flee, but another part whispered that she was only beginning to scratch the surface of something deeper, something tied to her blood.

Meanwhile, outside, Barney’s thoughts were no longer his own. The pull toward the surgical tools was insistent, like an itch in the back of his mind he couldn’t ignore. Without a word, he slipped from the building and headed back into the woods, where he found Miko wandering beneath the shadow of ancient trees. They moved in silence, following the strange pull, the forest around them dark and unnatural.

Tall standing stones rose from the ground, arranged in patterns that felt more ritualistic than natural. Around the stones, groups of women stood in quiet circles, their low voices carrying on the wind in strange, rhythmic chants. Miko and Barney exchanged a glance but said nothing, the scene around them too surreal to comprehend fully. Despite the occult-like atmosphere, they found no hidden entrances or signs of what lay beneath The Sanctuary. Frustration began to mount until Miko recalled something—Janos’ journal. He motioned to Barney, suggesting they head toward the rear of the building, where the bodies had reportedly been brought long ago.

Back inside, Kimmy returned to the sitting room, her limbs heavy, her mind still reeling. Marja’s absence had given her time to think, but none of her thoughts brought comfort. She felt unmoored, drifting in a world she barely recognized anymore. The probing sensation had left a mark, not just physically but deeper, as though Marja had reached inside her and taken something with her.

Marja re-entered the room, her calm smile restored, though her eyes held a glint of something else now—something more knowing. She offered Kimmy some "pain killers" with an air of gentle authority. Kimmy hesitated but found herself too weary to argue. She took the pills, swallowing them down in silence.

The drugs washed over her slowly, pulling her into a state of hazy detachment. Her thoughts became sluggish, like walking through fog. The sharp edges of the room blurred, the colors softening, the sounds growing distant. Kimmy’s eyes drifted shut, and she found herself lying down, her body sinking into the softness of a bed that hadn’t been there moments ago. Soft voices, almost like a lullaby, surrounded her. For the first time in days, she felt good, at ease. But deep down, beneath the warmth, something was shifting—something that wasn’t hers.

Outside, Miko and Barney scaled the chain-link fence surrounding the rear of The Sanctuary. The air back here was different—colder, heavier, like a storm was gathering just beneath the surface. They approached the old service entrance, a relic from when the building had served a much darker purpose. As they reached the door, Barney began to slow, his steps faltering.

Miko turned to look at him, and what he saw was unsettling—Barney’s expression had changed, his features taking on the cold, detached look of Dr. Sudworth. The voice that emerged from Barney’s lips wasn’t his own. "Jonas," Sudworth greeted, as though he had just returned from a long absence. The possession was returning, slipping over Barney’s mind like an old coat.

Without hesitation, Barney—or rather, Sudworth—pulled a weathered key from his pocket. Miko blinked, not remembering Barney ever having such a key. But when Sudworth placed it into the lock, something shifted. The world around them warped, time itself unraveling like an old reel of film being reversed. The present-day structure of The Sanctuary faded, peeling back to reveal its 1950s form. The door creaked open, and they were no longer standing in the now—they had stepped into the heart of Sudworth’s twisted legacy.

Saturday afternoon, following Dwight and Drago...

The drive back to Brightside was suffocating in its silence. Both Dwight and Drago sat steeped in their own thoughts, weighed down by the bitter taste of failure. The echo of their botched attempt at The Sanctuary clung to them like the stench of old fear, lingering in the air of the car. Every mile they put between themselves and the site felt both like a retreat and a mistake, gnawing at their insides.

When they reached The Repentant Sinner, Drago climbed out without a word, his fists clenched, the frustration radiating from him in waves. Dwight watched him disappear into the dim glow of the bar before turning the car toward the police station. There was nothing to say—each of them had their own way of processing what had gone wrong.

Inside The Sinner, the familiar burn of alcohol was the only thing keeping Drago’s mind from spiraling deeper into the pit of shame that had opened up beneath him. Glass after glass, he tried to drown out the memory of how easily things had spiraled out of control, how he had mishandled the situation with Kimmy. Helen, standing behind the bar, could see it in his eyes, the tightness of his jaw as he downed each drink in silence. She tried to talk to him, her tone soft but steady, offering small words of comfort. But her words barely penetrated the fog that had settled over him. Guilt was a heavy thing, and tonight, it weighed down every thought, every breath.

Two hours slipped away, lost in the haze of alcohol. The bottles lining the bar seemed endless, and Drago’s mind spun in an endless loop of shame. Helen’s patience thinned, though her expression remained neutral, watching him with a careful eye. And then, in her typical blunt, no-nonsense way, she said it. The words cut through the fog like a knife: “Your friends are probably going to die at that place, you know.”

It hit Drago like a punch to the gut. The glass he was holding froze halfway to his mouth. The realization crept up his spine, cold and sharp—his friends were still in danger. His breath caught, and anger surged to the surface, hot and explosive. Without thinking, he hurled the bottle across the room, the shattering glass a sudden, violent punctuation to the tension that had been building all night. Helen didn’t flinch. She stood there, unmoved, watching as Drago snapped back into the moment. “That was a good bottle,” she muttered under her breath, unfazed by the outburst.

Drago’s phone buzzed against the bar top, and the flurry of frantic messages from Miko brought everything into sharp focus. His friends were in danger—real danger. Time was running out.

Meanwhile, at the police station, Dwight sat in the dim glow of his desk lamp, staring at the clutter of maps and records spread out before him. The stillness of the room only amplified the nagging feeling that something had gone terribly wrong. His mind worked methodically, scanning the files for any hint of a hidden entrance, an alternate way into The Sanctuary. But the frustration built with every dead end. He had failed once already, and he couldn’t afford to fail again.

The sudden buzz of his phone broke the silence. Drago’s message was short, urgent. Miko needed help. Without hesitation, Dwight’s mind shifted gears. The quiet, methodical approach wasn’t going to cut it now. They didn’t have time to search for subtle ways in—The Sanctuary was a labyrinth of power and danger, and their friends were trapped in the middle of it.

In a matter of seconds, Dwight was on his feet, grabbing his keys and storming out of the station. He didn’t bother with backup; there wasn’t time. He slid into his cruiser and gunned the engine, speeding back to The Sinner to pick up Drago.
The two of them barely spoke as Dwight pulled up outside the bar. Drago, now sober with purpose, climbed into the passenger seat without a word, his body tense with resolve. They didn’t need to say it out loud—they were both thinking the same thing. This time, they would take a more direct approach.

As they sped down the darkening roads toward Thornwood, the plan formed between them in half-spoken thoughts and shared looks. Dwight’s police uniform and cruiser might be their ticket inside—posing as law enforcement responding to a disturbance could give them just enough leverage to bypass whatever was guarding The Sanctuary. It wasn’t a subtle plan, but it was the only one they had.
The minutes ticked by slowly, the tension in the car thickening with every passing mile. Dwight’s hands tightened on the wheel as he pushed the car faster, hoping with every fiber of his being that Miko, Kimmy, and Barney could hold out long enough for them to arrive.

Saturday, time unknown, time untethered, Kimmy, Miko, and Barney at The Sanctuary…

Reality twisted around them, shifting and unstable, like a film reel stuck on repeat but slowly unraveling with each frame. Inside the 1950s version of The Sanctuary, everything had an artificial perfection—too clean, too pristine, as though time itself had decided to pause and preserve this place, trapping them within a dream disconnected from anything real. Dr. Sudworth, now fully in control of Barney’s body, moved through the halls with confidence, his gaze detached, predatory. It was as though he had never left.

Inside Barney’s mind, things were different. He was no longer struggling; instead, he sat quietly in a dark, cozy room, conversing with the doctor as if they had been old colleagues. Sudworth’s words filled the space, revealing secrets of the past and present, merging them together in a strange harmony. It was comforting, in a twisted way—Barney felt the weight of knowledge pressing in around him. The more Sudworth spoke, the more Barney slipped into the role, accepting the presence inside him like a long-lost friend.

But for Miko, the reality was far more fractured. Every step he took felt like a struggle against a force that wanted to pull him back—Jonas, his ancestor, whispering at the edges of his mind, trying to reclaim control. It wasn’t just a possession, it was a battle for identity, a fight to hold on to himself. Each step through the hallways of this twisted memory pushed him closer to the brink. Jonas wanted to pull him back into the past, into the role of an assistant, an accomplice to Sudworth’s dark work, but Miko fought it, teeth gritted, refusing to give in.

Kimmy, still dazed from the drugs, wandered through her own fog. Voices reached her ears, muffled and strange at first, but slowly they sharpened. Barney? Miko? No, not Barney—Dr. Sudworth. They weren’t talking to her—they were talking about Jonas. Confusion bled through the haze as she called out, her voice weak but clear enough to pierce the illusion. Miko heard her, and in that moment, the beginnings of a plan sparked in his mind. He knew how to work within this strange, fractured reality. He turned to Sudworth and, without missing a beat, told him that Kimmy was the "specimen" for tonight’s experiment. Sudworth’s eyes gleamed, and without hesitation, he agreed, moving purposefully toward her.

Kimmy’s heart pounded, but she forced herself to stay calm as they led her to the basement. The air grew thicker, heavier with each step, and by the time they reached the basement, it felt like they were descending into the belly of some monstrous thing. The room that greeted them was a nightmare. A surgical table stood at the centre, flanked by a hulking furnace that loomed like a silent sentinel. Gruesome piles of body parts littered the space—human and animal remains, heaped together in grotesque mockery of life. The air reeked of decay, and the walls seemed to pulse with something alive, something hungry.

Miko and Kimmy exchanged a glance, the silent understanding between them clear. They had no choice but to play along, waiting for their moment.

Miko’s eyes flicked toward the furnace, then back to Kimmy. She nodded. The plan didn’t need to be spoken. With deliberate slowness, Kimmy stepped forward, her hands steady as she opened the furnace door. The heat surged outward, thick and oppressive. It wasn’t just fire—it was as though the furnace itself was hungry, waiting.

In a single, fluid motion, Miko grabbed the cursed tools. His movements were precise, almost ritualistic, as he hurled them into the flames. The clattering of metal against fire filled the room, a sharp sound that cut through the tension.
The instant the tools hit the flames, the room came alive with a surge of energy.

Ghostly, malevolent power exploded from the furnace, twisting and writhing through the air. The piles of bodies began to scream—inhuman wails of agony that tore through the room, filling it with the echoes of suffering. The supernatural force lashed out, like a beast caught in its death throes. Sudworth, still inhabiting Barney’s body, howled in pain as the ghostly energy swirled around him, tearing at the essence that had bound him to the physical world.

And then, with a violent, ear-splitting snap, the illusion shattered.

The pristine 1950s world dissolved, peeling away like old wallpaper, revealing the crumbling, decayed remains of the present-day basement. The walls sagged, covered in mold and grime, the air thick with rot. The nightmare was over, but the damage lingered, clinging to their minds.

Kimmy, Miko, and Barney stood amidst the wreckage of the illusion, their breath coming in ragged gasps. Each of them felt the weight of what they had just experienced—the twisting, pulling forces that had tried to unmake them. It was a breaking point, teetering on the edge of madness. For a moment, the world seemed to hold its breath, waiting to see if they would fall.

But somehow, they resisted.

Kimmy and Miko, shaken and exhausted, held themselves together, fragile but intact. But Barney… Barney was different. He stood taller, steadier, his eyes clear. The possession hadn’t broken him—it had given him something. Knowledge. Strength. Sudworth had left his mark, and Barney, in his own way, had absorbed it. He had learned much during his time as the doctor, and now that knowledge rested with him, a dangerous power waiting to be unleashed.

As the world snapped back into modernity, their devices reconnected to the outside world. Notifications flooded in—missed calls and messages from Dwight and Drago, filled with urgency and worry. Kimmy's phone vibrated in her hand, message after message, each one asking if they were safe, telling them to hurry.
The confusion of the moment hit them hard. Kimmy, still shaking off the fog of the drugs, instinctively opened her phone and scrolled through the unread messages. Dwight’s most recent message caught her eye, urging her to call the police and request an escort. The plan became clear in the haze—if she called the police, it would give Dwight the perfect cover to use the squad car and appear as part of the responding unit.

In her confusion and panic, Kimmy fumbled to dial the number. Her fingers trembled, and the phone rang once before the voice on the other end crackled to life. “911, what’s your emergency?” Kimmy froze. Her breath caught in her throat, the words tumbling together in her mind, making no sense. “Uh, I need, uh…” she stammered, her eyes darting around in panic. Realizing the mistake, she abruptly hung up, her heart pounding in her chest. The phone buzzed again, the police trying to call back, but she quickly blocked the number, guilt gnawing at her.

Barney and Miko exchanged glances, confusion clear in their expressions. They had no time to waste, and Kimmy’s mind was racing in too many directions.

Saturday evening outside The Sanctuary...

The sun had long since dipped below the horizon, leaving only the last remnants of twilight clinging to the sky as Dwight and Drago pulled up outside The Sanctuary. The headlights from the police cruiser sliced through the creeping darkness, illuminating the front of the building in stark relief. Shadows clung to the edges of the property, stretching unnaturally, almost as if they were watching. The car’s engine idled with a low hum, but the tension in the air was palpable.

Dwight stepped out, his jaw set, his hand gripping the police megaphone tightly as he raised it to his lips. His voice echoed across the grounds, firm and commanding, calling out for Kimmy. Each word bounced back at him, distorted slightly by the thickening night air. The building loomed ahead, its facade appearing almost indifferent, as if it had seen hundreds of people come and go, and none of them had mattered.

The door creaked open, and Marja stepped into view. Her presence immediately altered the atmosphere, a subtle but unmistakable pressure settling over everything. Calm, composed, and unnervingly in control, she moved toward Dwight and Drago with a quiet authority that demanded attention. Her gaze, steady and unwavering, suggested she knew far more than she was letting on.

She offered an explanation, her words smooth and too practiced, like a line she had delivered a hundred times before. It was supposed to be reassuring, but something about it felt off. The cadence, the precision—it was too perfect, as though rehearsed for just such a moment. She insisted that Kimmy was fine, that she was being well cared for inside by the women. There was no need for concern.

But something in the air, something in the way Marja stood, made it clear that there was more to this than she was revealing.

Drago’s frustration was palpable. He took a step forward, unwilling to be brushed aside so easily. Marja didn’t move, not visibly, but something changed. The weight of her presence pressed down, and suddenly Drago’s resolve faltered. His chest tightened, and without understanding why, he found his legs turning him around. He was walking away. He tried to fight it, to regain control of his own limbs, but the more he fought, the heavier his body felt. His mind screamed at him to stop, to push back, but his feet carried him further down the street, his heart pounding in confusion.

Inside, The Sanctuary had become a maze of fractured time and strange reality, but Miko's instincts cut through the disorientation like a blade. His sense of direction was unerring, and it was that guiding force that led Barney and Kimmy toward the back door. The shadows in the building felt alive, swirling around them like they were watching, waiting. But Miko didn’t waver. He found the exit with precision, his mind clear despite the twisting reality around them.

At the front of the building, sensing danger, Miko approached Marja, but the same strange force overtook him that had overwhelmed Drago. The moment he stepped into her gaze, he felt the shift, the pull. His legs betrayed him, and he, too, turned and began walking away, his mind fighting against it but his body moving without his consent.

Kimmy’s breath quickened. She could feel the pull of Marja’s influence, the way it rippled through the air, bending reality to her will. But something inside Kimmy snapped. She was done with this. The drugs still clouded her senses, but adrenaline surged through her veins, cutting through the fog. Without a second thought, she bolted for the police car, her legs moving faster than her mind. She motioned for Barney, who was already following her lead. Together, they threw themselves into the cruiser, their breaths ragged, hearts pounding.

Marja’s voice followed them, piercing through the night like a cold wind. “You can’t run from your blood,” she called out, her tone smooth but filled with a strange power. “It’s in you, Kimmy. Your family... the blood...”

The words hit Kimmy like a slap, but she pushed them away, refusing to let them sink in. She slammed the door shut as Dwight gunned the engine, peeling out of the parking lot with tires screeching against the asphalt. Marja’s voice still echoed in her mind, crawling beneath her skin. She knew, deep down, that something had taken notice of her—a force older and darker than anything she had faced before.
They sped down the darkened streets, the headlights cutting through the thickening night. Kimmy’s thoughts raced, but she couldn’t dwell on them. All that mattered was getting away.

Further down the road, they saw Miko and Drago, both walking in a daze, still under the lingering influence of whatever Marja had done to them. The car slowed as Dwight pulled up alongside them. Kimmy and Barney wasted no time, pulling them into the car, their expressions blank with confusion and frustration.
Without a word, the group headed back to Brightside. The silence in the car was heavy, thick with exhaustion and fear. Each of them had been touched by something tonight—something darker, deeper, and far more dangerous than they could have anticipated.

As The Sanctuary disappeared in the rearview mirror, none of them spoke, but the feeling lingered. There was no escaping the shadows that had found them. And whatever waited for them in the future was already watching.