Lilly slumped over her desk, her eyes glazed over while staring at the cursor that was blinking on the open document she was to fill with insight about psychological theories in a few days. Her laptop screen glowed at 11:30 p.m. She had stared at this paper for over an hour, but her mind wasn't channeled toward the subject. She was still stuck in the graveyard, running over in her head all of the letters she found that detailed the dark rituals of the Grey family and the ominous warnings from Silas.
No matter the amount of extra effort she put into school, the cemetery and restless spirits called to her louder and louder each day. Soon, it began bleeding into everything: her grades, jobs, and friendships.
She hadn't seen her study group in days and had skipped two shifts at the campus bookstore that week. She knew her manager wasn't happy with her, but the weight of what she had uncovered about the Greys made everything else feel far away and irrelevant.
It was at that point that her phone whirred, breaking the strained silence in her apartment. On the screen flashed a message from Sarah, her partner in the study group: "Hey! Where are you? We've kept waiting for the group session!"
Lilly rubbed her temples. The group had been planning to meet in the library to study for their psych exam. But how could she explain to Sarah—or anyone—that her nights were spent in a graveyard, talking to ghosts and unraveling a dark history that stretched back over a century? That would go over well.
"Sorry, not feeling great tonight. I'll catch up later," she typed, though her stomach churned out masses of guilt in response.
Her phone buzzed again. This time, it was her bookstore manager. She opened it a little more hesitantly.
"Lilly, you have missed your shift today. We are already short of people. If you don't come tomorrow, we have to talk about your position."
Lilly swore softly under her breath. The truth was, she had completely forgotten she was on shift. Her mind had become so consumed by digging through old records and piecing together the puzzle of Silas's death that her real life was starting to fall apart. She was slipping, and it wasn't just because of her growing obsession with the cemetery. The visions had started again stronger this time-invading her waking hours and leaving her disoriented.
She stood up from her desk, running her hands through her hair in frustration. She couldn't keep juggling her schoolwork, her jobs, and this. Things with the spirits. But she also couldn't walk away. Not now. Not when she was so close to understanding what had happened to Silas and the others who had been trapped by the Greys' rituals.
She recalled the letters she found in the town archives. First was the letter from Thomas Grey's admission that the Grey family used the cemetery for dark rituals to give them powers over life and death. Even more chilling was the second letter by Elias Caldwell, hinting that the Greys let loose upon this earth something far worse than anything they had intended to bring. The more she uncovered, the more dangerous it all seemed.
She turned to the bookshelf, catching sight of her grandmother's old journal. It still sat on the shelf, untouched since she had last read through it. Lilly walked over and grabbed it, setting herself down on her bed once more and flipping through those yellowed pages anew. She was hoping to find something—anything—that could connect her grandmother's suspicions to what she'd discovered at the archives.
She had to know more, and she needed help finding it.
The following morning-she didn't get to sleep for more than a few hours, tumbling from one nightmare to another dragged herself to the psychology class. Half of her brain was engaged in the content of the lecture, while the other half was lost in the dark secrets of West Wood Cemetery. The professor's voice was droning on and on about behavioral conditioning, but Lilly was only half-listening.
Her notebook was open, but instead of lecture notes, the tip of her pen danced across the paper, detailing the iron cemetery gates, the gravestones scattered across the grounds, and the shadowy figure she had seen lurking at the edges.
Her head pounded a lack of sleep and school stress combined. She hadn't been sleeping well for days now, haunted by nightmares that blurred the boundary between dreams and visions. Each night it was the same: the same shadowy figure that watched her from a distance, its eyes glowing. She couldn't evict the impression that it also watched her in real life, just waited until she came closer to something.
The class was a blur of an end, and the silent Lilly packed her bag, hardly noticing the other students shuffling out of the room. She was going to head towards the library to pick up more books for her research. It was in the hallway that she bumped into Sarah.
Lilly! Hey," Sarah said, a worried edge in her tone. "You okay? You've been MIA for the last few days. The study group is worried.
Lilly forced a smile. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just… been overwhelmed with work. I'll catch up soon.
"You look exhausted," Sarah pressed. "You're certain everything's okay?
Lilly hesitated. She couldn't tell Sarah the truth, but lying wasn't going to help either. "It's just been tough the last couple of weeks. I'll be fine."
Sarah didn't look convinced, but she didn't push it any further. "Well, if you need help for the psych exam, lemme know. You have always been one of the sharpest in the group, but you've been. odd, lately.".
Lilly nodded, feeling a tinge of guilt: Sarah had always been supportive, but really, there were things she couldn't attribute to a simple "I'm fine.". "I'll be okay," she said again, though this time more to reassure herself than Sarah.
As she walked away, Lilly felt the weight of her dual life pressing down on her even harder. Her friendships, her classes, and her job were all slipping through her fingers, and she didn't know how to hold on to them while she continued her search for the truth.
That afternoon, Lilly visited the town's archive facility. Mrs. Evans greeted her: an elderly, thin, but always-smiling lady, bony fingers, bright eyes--the same as on the other days when she had gotten help from Mrs. Evans--who smiled warmly now, though her expression reflected a touch of curiosity.
"You're back again so soon," Mrs. Evans said, leading Lilly to the rear room where the older records were kept. "You're digging into the Grey family, aren't you?"
Lilly tried to be nonchalant, nodding. "Yeah, I have been piecing some information together. I'm looking for anything that might tie the Greys into the history of the town in the late 1800s.
Mrs. Evans chuckled. "Well, you've certainly got your work cut out for you. That family's history is tangled up in all sorts of strange stories.
Lilly smiled weakly but felt desperation begin to rise inside her. Their history was more than strange; it was dangerous.
Mrs. Evans had left her alone in the back room, and Lilly immediately got to work. She sifted through the folders and boxes of old records; her fingers shook a little as she came upon more and more letters, more and more documents that suggested evidence of dark rituals conducted by the family. The box of personal letters with quite a few pages was just one of the old files she had been working her way through when her eyes landed on one. There was a letter, dated 1890, from someone named Abigail Grey-what seemed to be a relative of Thomas Grey. Lilly's heart quickened as very carefully she unfolded the brittle paper and began to read.
Letter From Abigail Grey to Unknown Recipient - October 13, 1890 EN
I write in the utmost haste, as I believe the time has come for the truth of what happened within our family to be finally judged. Thomas and the others have gone too far. Whatever those rituals started with, in the urge for power, have become something altogether other, something darker.
I saw things in West Wood that cannot be explained — shadows moving where there should be no shade, or voices whispering in the night. The spirits there are not at rest, and I fear that Thomas's ambition stirred something that cannot be contained. This thing he talks about, which they called forth, is not bound by either the rules of the living or the dead. It feeds on the souls from the graveyard and every day is growing stronger. I have reasoned with him, but Thomas would not see the danger plain before him. He thinks that control over life and death lies within our grasp. But at what cost? I fear for my family, and I fear for this town. If this power is not stopped, West Wood will be a place of eternal darkness. I beg of you, if there is something that can be done to intervene, do so. These rituals have to be undone, this entity has to be sent back, or else we are lost.
Yours in desperation,
Abigail Grey
Her heart raced as Lilly read to the very bottom of the letter. Abigail Grey had known about the entity, known what it was capable of, and tried to warn someone — who, Lilly didn't know. But it was too late. The rituals had already begun, and the entity was already feeding on the trapped spirits in the cemetery.
Lilly folded the letter back carefully and put it in the box. Her hands were shaking while her mind was assimilating how serious the danger was. The entity was still out there, still growing stronger with every new day, and if she didn't find a way to stop it, the consequences would be disastrous.
She gathered what she had and left the archives, her mind racing. Abigail's letter confirmed what Lilly had been suspecting all along. The Greys hadn't done ritual after ritual just to get power; they had unleashed something ancient and dangerous, something still lurking in that cemetery, just waiting for its next victim to come a little too close.
Fear and determination swirled in her mind as Lilly sat in her apartment. She knew she had to go with Silas once again, to find out if any way existed to mend the damage done. But more importantly, she needed to learn to balance her life in a way that wouldn't make it come apart as she continued deeper into the mystery of West Wood.
That evening, after an exhausting day of research and trying to keep up with her schoolwork, Lilly fell onto her bed, her head heavy with the implication of all that she had learned: the letters, the rituals, the entity-it was too much to bear. Still, yet, she knew she couldn't walk away.
There had been the familiar sensation of a vision washing over her as she succumbed to sleep. The world had shifted and adjusted, and when she opened her eyes once more, she found herself in West Wood Cemetery.
But this time, something was different. The air was thick with tension, the shadows around her seeming to pulse with dark energy. As Lilly's heart began to race, she realized that in this vision, it was as if she lived the events, not some memory from the past.
She glided effortlessly through the cemetery, the sound of her footsteps pounding away by some unseen force deeper into the heart of the graveyard. The gravestones and trees so familiar seemed to blend as she neared a knot of figures standing in some clearing.
It was the family of Grey.
They were all around a very large, ornate altar, their faces hidden in the shadows. Thomas Grey stood at the center of them, his hands raised upward to the sky as he chanted in some language Lilly did not know. The air crackled with energy, and she felt the power of the ritual building around her.
And as she watched in horror, a dark figure started to take form in the middle of the circle. The dark entity that lurked at the edges of the cemetery was being summoned by the Greys. Its form fluttered and shifted, feeding on the energy of the ritual and the spirits trapped within the cemetery. Lilly's breath caught in her throat as the entity turned its gaze in her direction, locking glowing eyes onto hers.
Then, all of a sudden, everything just went black.