Chapter 3: The Hidden Depths
Jason wiped the sweat from his brow, his flashlight flickering as the first light of dawn crept through the windows. The others were sprawled out, asleep where they had collapsed from exhaustion—Damion slumped in a chair, Taylor curled up on the floor with Emma, and Daniel leaning against the wall. Sarah had fallen asleep beside him earlier, her hand still wrapped loosely in his, but she had stirred and gone upstairs not long ago.
They had spent the entire night combing through Tyler's journals, searching every corner of his room and their old haunts for clues. But Tyler had been careful—too careful. The journals were filled with mundane entries, scraps of his life that seemed to give nothing away. And yet Jason knew there had to be more.
He stood, careful not to wake the others, and wandered back into the basement where they had been earlier. Something gnawed at him—a feeling, a whisper that tugged at the edges of his mind. There had to be something they missed. Something hidden.
The cold air in the basement clung to his skin as he walked over the creaky wooden floorboards. His flashlight beam passed over the walls, the furniture, the worn shelves—and then, something caught his eye. A slight gap in the floor near the far corner, barely noticeable in the dim light. He knelt down, running his hand over the floor until his fingers found the edge of the hidden trap door.
Jason's heart raced. This is it.
He hesitated only for a moment, glancing back at the sleeping forms of his friends. He could wake them, bring them with him, but something inside urged him to go alone. He gripped the old iron handle of the trap door and pulled it open with a creak that echoed through the room. The stale scent of earth and dust hit him as he peered down into the dark, yawning space below.
Without a second thought, Jason descended the creaky wooden steps into the hidden room beneath Tyler's house. His flashlight flickered, casting long shadows against the stone walls, but what he found below was nothing like he had expected.
The room was much larger than it appeared from above, almost like an underground cellar that had been there for decades, forgotten by time. Strange symbols were scrawled on the walls, crudely drawn in a red, almost rust-colored paint. In the center of the room, there was a desk—Tyler's desk. The one they had never seen before. It was cluttered with papers, notebooks, and old, tattered books, all covered in a fine layer of dust.
Jason approached the desk, his breath steady but his pulse racing. The papers were filled with frantic, scribbled notes, some of them in Tyler's handwriting, others in something unrecognizable—jagged, twisted letters that looked like they had been written by someone, or something, else. His hands trembled slightly as he sifted through the mess, trying to make sense of it all.
That's when he saw it—scrawled in the center of one of the notebooks, in large, bold letters:
"THE ABILITY OF MY FRIENDS."
Jason's heart skipped a beat. His flashlight hovered over the words as he tried to wrap his mind around their meaning. What did Tyler mean by this? What abilities?
As he flipped through the pages, the truth began to unravel before him. Tyler had been documenting his encounters with the demons for months, maybe even years. There were pages filled with descriptions of creatures they had never faced before—new demons, monsters that were even more twisted and terrifying than the ones they had fought as kids. Jason's hands shook as he read through them, each one more horrifying than the last.
But what struck him most were the notes about his friends. Jason scanned the pages, recognizing their names—his own name, Damion, Emma, Daniel, Sarah, Taylor. Tyler had written extensively about them, about their experiences, their strengths, their weaknesses. And then there was something else. Something that chilled Jason to his core.
Tyler believed that the demons weren't just targeting him. They were targeting all of them. Each of his friends had some kind of connection to the creatures—something deep inside that made them vulnerable, but also powerful. Tyler had been researching this for years, trying to understand what it meant.
"They feed on fear, on pain," one entry read. "But they also awaken something in us. Something I don't fully understand yet. The more we fight, the more we change."
Jason's eyes widened as he continued reading.
"Each of my friends has something within them—a gift, maybe. An ability. I don't know what it is yet, but the demons know. They're trying to bring it out, trying to use it against us."
Jason swallowed hard, his mind racing. This wasn't just about Tyler anymore. It was about all of them. The demons had been hunting them, feeding off their fear, their pain, to awaken something inside them—something they didn't even know existed. And Tyler had been trying to protect them, even as he was losing the battle against his own demons.
Jason's hands trembled as he set the notebook down. The room felt colder now, darker, as if the shadows themselves were watching him. Tyler's words echoed in his mind: "The ability of my friends."
What did it mean? Did they all have some kind of power? Some kind of connection to the darkness that was hunting them?
A sudden sound made Jason freeze. The faint creak of the trap door opening above him. He turned slowly, his flashlight casting a dim glow on the steps.
"Jason?" A familiar voice called down softly. It was Sarah.
Jason exhaled, his muscles relaxing just slightly as Sarah descended the stairs, her own flashlight in hand. She looked at him, then at the room around them, her expression shifting from confusion to concern.
"Why didn't you wake us?" she asked, her voice soft but tense.
Jason shook his head. "I wasn't sure what I'd find. But… look at this." He handed her the notebook, watching as her eyes scanned the pages.
Sarah's breath caught in her throat. "Tyler… he thought we had… abilities?"
Jason nodded, his jaw clenched. "I don't know what it means, but he was convinced. And the demons, they know. They're not just after us—they're trying to use whatever we have inside of us."
Sarah's face paled as she set the notebook down. "What do we do now?"
Jason looked around the room, his mind spinning with possibilities. They had fought demons before, but this was different. This was personal. The monsters were no longer just attacking from the outside—they were trying to unlock something within them. Something that could either save them… or destroy them.
"We need to wake the others," Jason said, his voice firm. "They need to know what we're up against."
Sarah nodded, but there was fear in her eyes—fear of what was coming, of what they might discover about themselves.
As they made their way back up the stairs, Jason couldn't shake the feeling that Tyler's death had only been the beginning. The real battle hadn't even started yet.