The house felt darker than usual, as though the shadows had thickened, pooling in the corners of every room. Bella sat at the table, staring at the second bone she'd unearthed. Its carvings mirrored those on the diary and the first bone, glowing faintly under the dim light. Beside it lay the scrap of parchment with the chilling words: *"The blood of the beloved binds the circle."*
The whispers were silent now, as if the diary was waiting for her next move. The air around it seemed heavier, almost suffocating, and every time Bella glanced at it, she felt her grief clawing at her resolve.
She reached for the second bone, her fingers brushing its surface. Warmth radiated from it, just like the first. The symbols pulsed faintly as if alive, and Bella couldn't help but wonder: was she waking something that should remain dormant?
Her mind drifted back to Shane—his laugh, his touch, the way he made her feel like she was the center of his world. If there was even the slightest chance to bring him back, didn't she owe it to herself to try?
But the words on the parchment lingered in her mind. *Blood of the beloved.* Did it mean Shane's blood? Or someone else close to her? Bella shook her head, refusing to let the thought linger.
She decided to test the second bone. Carefully, she placed it next to the diary, aligning its carvings with those already fused into the book's cover. For a moment, nothing happened. Then, the symbols on both the bone and the diary began to glow in unison. A low hum filled the air, and the room seemed to vibrate faintly.
Bella leaned forward, her breath caught in her throat. The black ribbon sealing the diary quivered, its edges unraveling slightly. The diary let out a faint groan, like a living creature awakening from a deep slumber.
Suddenly, the hum stopped, and everything went still. The ribbon remained intact, though its grip on the diary seemed looser now. Bella stared at it, frustration gnawing at her. She was so close, but it wasn't enough.
She glanced at the parchment again. The words seemed to mock her. *The blood of the beloved binds the circle.*
What did it mean? Hadn't she already offered her own blood? Did she need someone else's?
Her gaze drifted toward an old photo of her and Shane on the shelf. She rose and approached it, picking it up and brushing dust from the glass. It had been taken on their first anniversary, a day filled with laughter and love. Bella traced Shane's face with her fingertip, her heart aching.
That's when a thought struck her—a terrifying, dangerous thought. What if she didn't need a living sacrifice? What if Shane's grave held the answers?
The idea chilled her, but it also ignited a spark of hope. If the diary was tied to Shane, if the whispers truly meant to bring him back, then perhaps the *blood of the beloved* referred to something he had left behind. A part of him, buried in the earth.
Her decision was made. She would return to the cemetery, no matter how wrong or sacrilegious it felt. If it meant unlocking the diary, if it meant seeing Shane again, she would do whatever it took.
That night, under the cover of darkness, Bella found herself at the edge of Shane's grave. The air was bitterly cold, and the wind howled through the trees, carrying with it the faint scent of damp earth. She clutched a flashlight in one hand and a small shovel in the other.
Her hands trembled as she knelt by the gravestone, its inscription illuminated by the weak beam of her light:
*Shane Willson
Beloved husband
1988 – 2022*
Tears welled in her eyes as she traced the carved letters. "I'm sorry," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I just… I can't keep going without you."
She gripped the shovel and began to dig. The soil was heavy, damp from recent rain, and each movement felt like a betrayal. Her arms ached, but she didn't stop, not even when guilt threatened to overwhelm her.
Finally, the shovel hit something solid. Bella dropped to her knees, her hands clawing at the remaining dirt until a small wooden box emerged—a casket Shane's family had used for keepsakes. Bella's breath hitched as she opened it, revealing a lock of Shane's hair, a ring he had always worn, and a folded piece of cloth stained dark red.
Her trembling fingers reached for the cloth. As she unfolded it, a cold wave of energy washed over her. Inside was a small shard of bone, almost identical to the ones she had already found. This one, however, was different—it was etched with the same symbols but glowed faintly crimson.
The whispers returned, louder than ever. "The circle is nearly complete. The blood of the beloved binds all."
Bella clutched the bone tightly, her heart pounding. This was it. This was what she needed. She wrapped the shard carefully in her coat and filled the hole she had dug, smoothing the soil as best she could.
As she rose to her feet, a strange calm settled over her. She felt no guilt, no regret—only purpose. The diary was calling her, and she was ready to answer.
### ***
Back at home, Bella placed the new bone on the table alongside the others. The diary seemed to vibrate in anticipation, its ribbon trembling faintly. Bella stared at it, her mind racing.
This was the last piece, she was sure of it. With all three bones, she could finally unlock the diary and discover its secrets.
But a single question lingered in the back of her mind, one she dared not confront: *What price would the diary demand once it was fully opened?*
The answer, she feared, would change her life forever.