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Chapter 5 Mother's Confession

Word Count: 1243    |    Released on: 03/11/2025

oria

y? That the ghost of our murdered brother showed me wh

. They just didn'

hed food around her plate with shaking hands. Father pretended to read the news

know where he was, but I felt him. Lik

leave," I

ked up. "E

f this house. Go some

away? Absolutely not. The A

ren," I snapped. "I think our reput

e down. "Enough, Victor

to help. I'm try

chair fell backward with a cra

stared

when our son is back from the dead seeking re

it down," Fa

of the dining room like a woman in a trance.

ther kept it locked, her private sanctuary. Now she

boxes, covered in dust. She dumped them on the

what are

e muttered. "Finding pr

etters, photographs, documents. She du

her-bound book, small and ancient. The cover was st

id I burned it. I couldn't. I needed to know if the ritu

e, covered in handwriting that looked centur

. That's what I used. It promised wealth and power in exchange for i

sn't,"

twenty years, I've heard him. I take pills to sleep but they don't

That's the worst part. The money came. The business thrived

hy is h

re must be something here. Some clau

hallway. Heavy, deliberat

doorway. He looked at the boo

nual for murder. I wond

book to her chest.

walked into the room. "Don't worry, Mother. Your d

ou want?"

tual. The part you skipped because you

nds. She didn't fight him. Just

quences. Every ritual has them, but people never re

he sun. Should the sacrifice be unjust, should the innocent cry out in their death, the entity shall consum

m went

ispered. "It's been

rthday. The same date you killed me. The entity waited, let

t him. "Then you'r

The collection agent. The thing you bound t

top it," I said. "Some loop

at's very Ashbourne of you. Always looking for the easy way,

of my son is in there, please forgive me. I was des

urned, he called for you. He thought maybe you'd save him at th

nymore. I'm what you made him into. I'm the conseque

on the bed and wal

entity is going to kill us anyway,

y pain. His rage is my rage. And before you die, you're going to feel every ounce

ng do w

much guilt you're carrying. The more you suffer, the stronger it gets. And when it's stro

sked. "What ha

gret? "I go back down too. Back into the dark. Back into the scr

utching the book like it might save her. I stood

were plotting. Planning some way to fight

enty years ago in that chapel. W

how much we'd suffer bef

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