The house had grown colder, as though the diary had leached all warmth from the air. Bella sat on the floor, staring at the book lying in the corner where she had thrown it. Its cover glowed faintly, pulsing like a heartbeat, and the whispers had returned, louder and more menacing than ever.
She pressed her hands to her ears, trying to block them out, but they seeped into her thoughts like poison.
*"The gate must remain open. The circle must be completed."*
Her mind raced with fragments of memories—Shane's laughter, the smell of his cologne, the feel of his arms around her. The diary twisted those memories, filling her with longing and guilt. It whispered promises of his return, but the price echoed in her head: *a life for a life.*
Bella stood abruptly, her hands shaking. She couldn't stay here, trapped with the diary's influence. She needed air, distance, clarity. Grabbing her coat, she stepped outside into the bitter night.
The cold wind bit at her skin, but it was a relief compared to the suffocating atmosphere inside her home. She walked aimlessly, letting her feet guide her. The town was quiet, most people tucked away in their warm homes. Bella envied their peace, their ignorance of the nightmare she was living.
She found herself near the cemetery, drawn there by a force she couldn't explain. Shane's grave stood in the distance, a silent reminder of her grief. She approached it slowly, her heart heavy with sorrow.
"I don't know what to do, Shane," she whispered, her voice trembling. "I want to bring you back, but… I can't. Not like this."
The wind seemed to carry her words away, offering no answers. Bella sank to her knees, tears streaming down her face.
Suddenly, the whispers returned, louder than ever. But this time, they weren't coming from the diary. They surrounded her, rising from the ground, from the air, from within her own mind.
*"You hesitate. You defy the circle. The gate will not remain open."*
The earth beneath her hands began to tremble, and Bella scrambled back in panic. Shane's grave shifted, the soil parting as though something beneath it was stirring.
"No!" Bella shouted, her voice cracking. "Stop this!"
But the whispers ignored her. The ground split open, revealing a jagged crack that pulsed with an otherworldly red light. Bella stumbled to her feet, her heart racing.
From the crack emerged a skeletal hand, its bony fingers reaching for the surface. Bella screamed, backing away as more of the figure emerged—a grotesque mockery of life, its hollow eyes glowing with crimson light.
The whispers filled her mind, deafening now. *"You failed. The circle will claim its due."*
The creature rose fully from the grave, its movements jerky and unnatural. Bella stared in horror as she recognized the tattered remains of Shane's favorite jacket hanging from its frame.
"No," she whispered, shaking her head. "This isn't him. This isn't Shane."
The creature turned its glowing eyes toward her, its jaw opening in a soundless scream. It lunged forward, and Bella ran, her feet slipping on the damp grass.
She didn't stop until she reached her house, slamming the door shut behind her. Her chest heaved as she tried to catch her breath, her mind racing. What had she unleashed?
The diary sat on the table, its glow brighter now, almost blinding. Bella approached it cautiously, her hands trembling.
As she touched the cover, the whispers stopped, replaced by a single voice—calm, commanding, and cold.
*"The circle demands balance. Deny it, and the gate will unleash chaos."*
Bella sank to her knees, her head in her hands. The diary wasn't giving her a choice. Either she completed the ritual, or it would consume everything.
Tears streamed down her face as she whispered, "Why me? Why is it me?"
The diary offered no answer. It didn't care about her pain or her questions. It only cared about the circle, the balance, the price.
Bella stood, her fists clenched. She couldn't let this continue. The diary's power was growing, spreading, and if she didn't stop it, it would destroy her—and everyone else.
Her thoughts turned to Eliza again, and guilt twisted in her chest. Was there another way? Could she outsmart the diary, find a way to destroy it?
Or would she have to make the ultimate sacrifice?
As the whispers resumed, Bella knew one thing for certain: time was running out, and the diary would not wait much longer.