The High Granville Estate used to belong to Mr. Augustus Leighton, and it's been empty since he passed away seven years ago. Rumors have swirled about it being haunted. Ms. Leighton, a friend of Rayen Ayelen, wanted to sell it because of these rumors, but Rayen offered to help, which is why they found themselves here.
"Are you guys sure about this?" Laura asked, already feeling goosebumps the moment they reached the gate.
"Please identify yourself," the guard at the entrance said.
Eula pulled out a card.
Soon enough, the gate creaked open.
"I think I might just wait out here," Laura said.
"No, Laura, we need your hands," Pacey replied.
Reluctantly, Laura joined them.
"It looks pretty normal to me," Pacey said.
"I don't hear a thing," Afia remarked.
"That's because you're wearing your headphones," Laura shot back.
Afia shot her a disappointed glare.
Clearing her throat, Laura continued, "You all think it's normal because you're used to luxury. Look around—it's oddly empty despite all the furniture and paintings. No sign of anyone here, not even the guards. It hasn't been cleaned in at least a week, yet it somehow looks surprisingly tidy. And this angle? Perfect for something to jump out at us! Why would they place it here of all places? Plus, the lights aren't even fully on. A wealthy person could definitely afford the electricity. Just look at these curtains and feel the atmosphere—it screams horror. Something terrible happened here, like a murder or something!"
No one was taken aback by Laura's wild imagination.
"This is obviously a haunted house," she insisted, trying to convince them.
"Well, isn't that why we're here? To take care of it?" Afia said, brushing past Laura.
"No, you don't get it. They should really call the church for this, not us."
"I can see spirits and demons, and Afia can hear them," Pacey chimed in.
"And we can sense their presence, right? That makes us the perfect team for this" Eula added, scanning the room.
"But—"
They made their way to a room far from the main hall, near the end of the staircase. As they approached, they spotted a shelf of books, a couch, and an old, fancy chair.
"Shhh," Afia signaled.
Laura ducked. "What's going on?"
Afia simply smiled, then quickly took off Laura's glove and placed her hand on the chair.
Suddenly, memories flooded into Laura.
The dusty hallway faded away.
She found herself in the estate years ago, back when it was still being built.
Sunlight streamed through the tall windows, and construction workers bustled about, polishing furniture, their voices echoing through the halls.
A little girl, no older than seven, raced down the corridor, laughter ringing out as she chased a small wooden toy horse rolling across the still-cement floor. On her wrist was a beautiful bracelet, just like the one Laura saw at the convenient store.
"Lillian!" someone called from another room. "Be careful!"
But the girl just giggled and kept running.
In that moment, Laura felt the warmth of the house.
Then the memory shifted.
It was night.
Rain lashed against the windows as a fierce storm rattled the estate.
An older white man walked down the hallway with a flashlight. The wind howled, shaking the old beams above.
"This storm is going to tear the roof apart," he muttered.
A nervous worker spoke up behind him. "Sir, the attic hatch keeps opening because of the wind."
The man sighed. "I'll bolt it shut for the night."
He headed towards a small ladder near the end of the hall, where a wooden hatch swung slightly with each gust of wind.
Climbing up, he pushed the hatch open.
The worker watches as the old man climbed up the attic, then he turns toward the exit.
Cling.
There was a bracelet on the floor, confused, he picked it up and examines it.
"What is this doing here?"
The worker puts the bracelet in his pocket before heading out.
The wood creaks as the old man steps into the attic.
The attic was dark and dusty, filled with boxes, wooden boards, and forgotten trunks. He shifted a few things to one side and placed a box of nails on top of the trunks.
After a quick glance around, he found nothing unusual.
Satisfied, he climbed back down and slid a heavy metal latch across the attic hatch to secure it from the wind.
"Finally," he muttered before walking away.
The lantern's light faded down the hall.
Silence enveloped the house.
Then—
a soft voice.
"Dad?"
A chill coursed through Laura as she felt the memory deepen.
Inside the dark attic, the little girl struggled to sit up.
It was Lillian.
Clutching her toy horse close, she called out, "Dad?"
She pushed against the trunk.
It wouldn't budge.
"Dad?"
Her small hands knocked on the wood.
The storm outside grew louder.
No one heard her.
Hours passed.
Then days.
The attic turned darker.
Laura felt the creeping despair within the memory.
The girl kept knocking weakly.
"Please…"
Her voice grew softer with each call.
"Please open…"
The toy horse slipped from her grasp as she curled up near the hatch, waiting.
Waiting for someone to return.
But no one ever did.
The memory faded.
Laura thought it was over.
Then something shifted in the attic's shadows.
The darkness began to gather.
A low whisper echoed through the empty space.
Something ancient.
The shadow slid across the floor toward the small, lifeless figure.
It seeped into her like smoke.
Laura felt the moment it happened.
Like something claiming an empty shell.
The girl's body twitched.
Her fingers slowly curled.
Then—her eyes snapped open.
They were completely black.
Her neck twisted sharply as her head tilted sideways.
A smile stretched across her face.
A voice emerged, but it was no longer that of a child.
"…So much sorrow… in such a small body."
Her limbs bent oddly as she stood.
Bones cracked softly within the memory.
She walked slowly towards the hatch and touched it from above.
"Locked," the voice whispered.
Then it laughed softly.
"…Good."
The memory shattered.
Laura gasped and pulled her hand back, quickly putting her glove back on.
Her face had gone pale.
Eula grabbed her arm. "What did you see?"
Laura pointed slowly upwards. "The attic."
Pacey frowned. "What attic?"
Everyone turned to her.
"Where is it?" Eula asked.
Laura shook her head, unsure of where it was located.
Swallowing hard, she shook her head again.
Afia slowly raised her finger, pointing straight up. "The ceiling."
Mr. Leighton was said to have died while reading in a chair—could it be here?
Confused, Eula approached and sat in the chair, glancing at the ceiling before looking up.
For a moment, nothing happened.
Then—a drop of black liquid fell onto Eula's face.
Knock.
A faint sound echoed from above the wooden beams.
Laura stepped back slowly.
Another knock followed.
But this one was heavier.
Not small.
Not weak.
Afia's expression shifted. "…That's not a child."
The knocking morphed into scratching.
Long nails dragged across the wood.
Dust fell from the ceiling beams.
Suddenly, the ceiling darkened, and a dark aura rushed past them toward Eula. In an instant, Eula's eyes turned black.
Something small tumbled off the edge of the chair and hit the floor.
A wooden toy horse.
Eula opened her mouth, but it was no longer Eula speaking.
"Dad?…you're not Dad."
Laura whispered under her breath, "That's not Eula, is it?"
The creature stood on twisted legs.
The hallway lights flickered again.
"Seven years," it whispered.
"…and someone finally noticed."
Eula laughed softly.
"Uh, Pacey, Afia, what do we do?"
Eula—or the demonic spirit within her—slowly tilted its head, bones cracking as it did.
"Those pathetic fools thought they could keep me locked away forever," it laughed hysterically.
Pacey tried to reach for her weapon, but the demon quickly grabbed her, slamming her against the wall. Pacey struggled, trying to pry the hand from her neck.
"Stop!" Laura yelled, grabbing a nearby lamp and smashing it against the demon's head.
The demon turned its head toward Laura and screamed, sending her crashing into the shelves.
"Goddamm," Laura groaned.
The demon's attention shifted back to Pacey, but she was gone.
"I'm right here," Pacey said.
The thing wearing Eula's body didn't turn immediately.
It knew.
Its head tilted slowly, vertebrae cracking one by one as if something within was adjusting.
A smile stretched across Eula's face—too wide, too patient.
"…I know."
Before Pacey could react, Eula's body snapped backward—not just turned, but snapped. Her torso twisted first, followed by her neck with a violent crack, until her face was directly locked onto Pacey's, while her feet remained facing forward.
It was wrong—completely wrong.
She lunged. Pacey rolled just in time as Eula slammed into the wall behind her. The impact shattered the wood like it was paper, sending splinters flying.
But Eula didn't stop. Her fingers dug into the wall as she crawled along it, sideways—as if gravity didn't apply to her.
"Afia!" Pacey shouted.
"I hear it!" Afia yelled back, holding onto her headphones. Panic twisted her features. "It's everywhere—it's not just her—!"
But it was too late.
The lights exploded. Darkness engulfed the room, with only a faint gray of moonlight filtering through the tattered curtains. And in that dimness, there was movement—too fast to catch.
SCRAPE.
Something dragged across the ceiling.
THUD.
Behind them, Laura forced herself up, coughing. "Don't let it get close—!"
Suddenly, a hand grabbed her ankle. She screamed. Eula was behind the shelves, her body contorted unnaturally, limbs bending backward as she crawled out like some grotesque puzzle being assembled.
Her fingers tightened around Laura's leg—cold, far too cold.
Laura kicked wildly. "GET OFF—!"
Eula's head jerked up, her jaw unhinging wider than natural. A low, wet whisper slithered out: "…stay…"
Pacey sprang into action. She charged and slammed her shoulder into Eula, but it felt like hitting stone. Eula remained unyielding, her smile only growing wider.
Her other arm shot out again, catching Pacey mid-motion, fingers clamping around her throat once more.
CRACK.
The air shifted again, pressure mounting as if the room was compressing around them. Pacey was lifted off the ground once more. Her feet kicked uselessly while her hands clawed at Eula's wrist, but it was no use.
Afia clutched her head, fear bubbling over. "It's screaming—!" Blood trickled from her ear. "There's more—there's more in the walls—!"
These voices probably belong to people who used to live here or worse the victims of this demonic being.
Laura grabbed a jagged piece of wood from the shattered shelf, her hands trembling. "No… no, no, no…" She charged forward, driving it straight into Eula's side.
For a brief moment—silence.
Then Eula's entire body jerked violently, her mouth opening wide as a shriek erupted. Not one voice, but many—layered screams overlapping each other.
The grip on Pacey loosened, and she dropped to the ground, gasping for air. Eula's head snapped down toward the wood lodged in her body, looking… confused, almost curious.
Then, slowly, she began to laugh. "You think… that hurts?"
Her hand wrapped around the wood, yanking it out. No blood—only darkness oozing thickly from the wound. It didn't close; it shifted, as if something inside was adjusting to fill the void.
Then, just like that—she vanished. Gone.
A single breath.
A heartbeat.
Silence.
"…Where—" Laura whispered, her voice barely audible.
Right behind her.
A hand forcefully propelled Laura across the room, sending her crashing to the floor with a heavy thud. The world around her spun in chaos as Eula towered above, her presence overwhelming. Laura's limbs trembled unnervingly, as if a fierce internal struggle was taking place within her.
"You shouldn't have come," a chilling whisper echoed, sending shivers down her spine.
Determined, Pacey staggered to her feet, her eyes blazing with resolve. "We're not leaving without her!"
Eula froze momentarily, then slowly turned her head toward Pacey. "Her?" it repeated softly, the word hanging heavily in the air. The tension was palpable, and then Eula erupted into a low, mocking laugh. "There is no her anymore."
As Eula crouched low, resembling a predator ready to pounce, Afia's voice cut through the tension with a scream. "IT'S GOING TO KILL HER—MOVE—!"
Eula lunged forward, and Pacey met her with fierce resolve. The impact reverberated through the hall as they became locked in a struggle. Pacey pushed forward with all her might, but Eula resisted with an unnerving strength. Suddenly, Eula's arm twisted at an unnatural angle and snapped forward, seizing Pacey's shoulder with her nails digging deep.
Pacey gasped but refused to falter. Instead, she leaned in closer, locking eyes with the entity that had taken her friend. "Then I'll drag you out of her," she declared, swiftly slipping a necklace onto Eula.
For the first time, Eula's confident smile faltered. Pain ignited within her, and she screamed. Eula's body jerked violently before collapsing to the floor, lifeless, like a marionette with its strings severed.
The creature that emerged in her place shed any pretense of humanity. It hovered slightly above the ground, its form unstable, limbs flickering and dissolving into shadow. A distorted face emerged, with eyes blinking in all the wrong places, and its voice resonated from all directions. "…You… took… my vessel…"
Laura scrambled backward, her breath coming in shaky gasps. Pacey, however, did not hesitate. "Let's finish this," she said, her voice steady and resolute.
The entity shrieked and lunged forward. But as it crossed the distance, Pacey raised her bow and arrow, releasing a shot that cracked through the air. A force pulsed outward, colliding with the demon mid-lunge, sending it reeling back as if it had struck an invisible barrier.
The creature's form distorted violently, limbs stretching and snapping, as it screamed—not from pain, but from pure fury. "Afia!" Pacey shouted, her voice urgent.
Afia's hands trembled as she reached for her violin. For a fleeting moment, she hesitated. The creature turned its attention to her instantly, its body splitting into two, then three, crawling across the walls, ceiling, and floor. "AFIA!"
With a sharp exhale, she began to play. The first note sliced through the air like glass, freezing everything in its wake. It wasn't loud, but it felt wrong—distorting the very fabric of the atmosphere. Shadows flickered as the demon's movements slowed, as if caught in a mental snare.
With a second note, longer and deeper, the temperature plummeted. Frost crept along the edges of the broken furniture, thickening the air. The demon shrieked, but the sound elongated unnaturally, as if it were being torn apart mid-scream. Its forms began to merge again, forced back into one shape. "No—" it hissed.
Afia steadied her hands, her eyes locked onto the creature, refusing to stop playing. The melody shifted to a slower, hypnotic rhythm, with each note wrapping around the demon like invisible chains. Its movements became jerky and delayed, as if it struggled to remember how to function. "…What… is this…" it whispered.
Pacey seized the moment. "Now!"
Laura pushed herself up, grabbing a metal rod from her pocket. Her hands trembled, but she charged forward regardless. The demon turned, but too slowly. Pacey was already there, swiftly taking the rod from Laura's grasp. She whispered incantations into it and thrust it forward, straight into the center of the creature's shifting form.
The scream that erupted was unlike anything human—a cacophony of hundreds, layered and filled with cries, begs, and rage. The creature convulsed violently, its body flickering and breaking apart into fragments of shadow that attempted to scatter.
The demon's form began to tear apart, not outward, but inward, as if being dragged into nothingness. "No—NO—!" it screamed, its voice filled with desperation. "…I waited—so long—!"
Pacey pushed harder against the rod. "I don't care."
Afia finally lets go of her violin, and the demon collapsed—not falling or dispersing, but simply ceasing to exist. The pressure in the room lifted instantly, the shadows returning to their normal state as the air warmed.
Pacey dropped the rod, her hands shaking uncontrollably. Laura staggered back, and Afia lowered her violin slowly, her arms trembling. For a long moment, silence enveloped them, until a soft breath broke through.
Eula coughed weakly, stirring back to life. "Eula?" Laura rushed to her side.
"We're alive?" Eula asked.
Overwhelmed with emotion, Laura cried and hugged her tightly. Eula laughed through her cough, turning to Pacey with gratitude. "I heard you. Thank you."
Pacey smiled, relief washing over her. Afia, meanwhile, checked her ears, wiping away blood and adjusting her headphones.
It turns out that the little girl was actually the daughter of one of the construction workers. Lilian had spent the day with her dad because her mom was in the hospital feeling unwell. While playing around, she accidentally slipped into one of the old trunks in the attic and dozed off. Her dad searched high and low for her, but unfortunately, he couldn't find her. The family ended up reporting her missing and eventually decided to move away. Ever since then, the estate has been filled with strange noises and knocks coming from the attic. Mr. Leighton even brought in an exorcist to help and sealed off the attic, but it seems like the demon was just too strong. In the end, the attic was completely locked away for good.