Lisa barely made it to the door before she heard the unmistakable sound of footsteps behind her, heavy and slow, like someone dragging their feet through wet sand. Her heart leapt in her chest, her breath catching in her throat as she spun around, half-expecting to see a shadowy figure standing behind her. But there was nothing—just the open, empty path leading back to the cabin.
The whisper still lingered in the air, cold and sinister, its echo vibrating in the back of her mind. She stood frozen for a moment, staring into the darkness, waiting for something, anything, to happen. But the town was as silent as ever.
With a deep breath, Lisa turned back and continued her walk to the cabin, the hairs on the back of her neck standing on end. She quickened her pace, suddenly desperate to get inside, to feel the warmth of the cabin's walls and the safety of its isolation. When she reached the door, she threw it open and rushed inside, almost tripping over the threshold in her haste.
Liam was sitting on the couch, his body slouched, his head resting against the back. His face was pale, too pale. His usual tan had faded, and his skin had an ashen hue, as though he'd been drained of color, drained of life.
"Liam?" Lisa's voice was soft, but a shiver ran through her as she crossed the room toward him. "Are you okay?"
Liam didn't move at first, his eyes unfocused, staring ahead as though he hadn't even heard her. Then, slowly, his gaze shifted to her, but there was a strange emptiness to it, as if something vital had been taken from him.
"I'm fine," he muttered, his voice weak, distant. He tried to sit up, but his movements were sluggish, as though even the simple act of lifting his body was an effort. His hand gripped the armrest for support, but it trembled, and Lisa could feel the chill emanating from him.
She knelt beside him, reaching for his hand. The cold that seeped through his skin sent an icy shock through her fingertips. He was burning up, his body temperature dropping like the slow descent of a winter night.
"Liam, you're freezing," she whispered, her voice thick with concern. "What's happening?"
"I don't know," he whispered back, his voice shaky. "I just feel... tired. So tired."
Lisa felt her stomach tighten with dread. She looked him over again, searching for signs of something—anything—that could explain what was happening. His face was drawn, hollowed, and the pallor of his skin made him look almost... lifeless.
"Maybe you should lie down," Lisa said, gently guiding him toward the bedroom. She could feel the weight of his body leaning on her as he stumbled to his feet. His movements were slow, like he was struggling against some invisible force.
But once they reached the bed, Liam collapsed onto it, his body still shivering, his breath coming in shallow, uneven gasps. He pulled the blankets over himself, but they didn't seem to help. His body radiated cold, the air around him growing frigid.
Lisa sat beside him, her mind racing. What was happening to him? Was it the town? Was it something to do with the necromancer? Had she unleashed something by digging into the town's past? Was it too late to stop whatever force had begun to stir?
As she watched him, helpless and terrified, she realized with growing horror that the gravity of her actions was sinking in. It was her obsession with the past, her need for answers that had brought them here—into the heart of something ancient and dark.
She had wanted answers, but now they were paying the price. She was dragging Liam down with her, and she couldn't stop it. The realization hit her like a punch to the gut, the guilt washing over her in a wave that almost drowned her.
"Liam…" Her voice cracked, and she struggled to find the right words, to make him understand. "I didn't mean for this to happen. I didn't mean for you to get hurt."
Liam's eyes fluttered open, barely focusing on her face. There was something in his gaze—something distant, as though he was already slipping away from her. "It's not your fault," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "You didn't do this. But I... I feel so tired, Lisa. So cold…"
His words hung in the air like an omen, and Lisa's heart clenched with fear. What if this was it? What if the town's curse had already claimed him?
"Liam, please—" She gripped his hand, her nails digging into his skin as though that alone could anchor him to her, keep him from slipping into whatever nightmare awaited him.
But he didn't respond. His eyes closed again, his breathing shallow. Lisa felt a pang of panic rise within her. She needed to do something. Anything.
Her mind raced, recalling the things the librarian had told her—the necromancer's curse, the ghosts that haunted this town. Could it be that Liam was falling victim to some kind of... resurrection? Was the necromancer's influence so far-reaching that it could touch the living?
No. She couldn't let that be true. She couldn't lose him, not now, not after everything they had been through.
Lisa scrambled to her feet, her pulse pounding in her ears. She had to do something—she had to figure out how to stop this before it was too late. The library had to have more answers. Maybe there was a way to reverse whatever was happening to Liam. Maybe there was still a chance.
But as she turned to rush out of the room, she stopped dead in her tracks. The door to the cabin was slightly ajar. And standing in the doorway—half in shadow, half in light—was a figure she didn't recognize.
A man.
His presence filled the room with a suffocating weight. His eyes locked with hers, dark and piercing, like two black holes pulling at her soul.
Lisa froze, a chill crawling up her spine as the stranger's lips curled into a slow, unsettling smile.
"I see you've awakened something," he said, his voice smooth and cold, like the wind outside. "Something... old."
Her heart skipped a beat. "Who are you?" Lisa whispered, her voice trembling despite herself.
The man didn't answer immediately. Instead, he stepped forward, his steps deliberate and measured. His gaze never wavered from her.
"I'm someone who's been waiting," he said finally, the smile still lingering on his lips. "Waiting for you. For both of you."
Lisa's breath hitched in her throat. This was no stranger. This was something far worse.
And it had come for them.
The room grew colder, and the air seemed to thicken with dread. She could hear the faintest whisper in her ear, like the voice she had heard earlier, carrying a warning, a threat.
"You should have never come back."
Her pulse hammered in her chest as the man took another step toward her.
And then, everything went black.