and he no longer had the strength to work it.

The sickening, poisonous rush also returned, and Kegan felt his mind slipping away. The interaction with his grandmother started to feel like nothing more than a faded memory. He panicked, his skin turning to ice, and he shut his eyes, trying to cement the images and words to memory.

But the harder he tried, the more the images only sifted through his hands. Defeated, he collapsed to his knees. He was weak. And he had no idea how to get out of this place.

89

The sun had plummeted beneath the horizon, and so did the temperature. Sarah stomped through the forest, revolver gripped in an icy hold in her right hand, and the left holding the pillowcase with the orb. She worked her way through the forest and toward Bell.

The orb was born in that place, and it was connected to it. The priest she’d spoken to had mentioned that there would need to be a strong connection between the other world and this one, so she figured that there might need to be a strong connection to try and sever its hold on the souls that it trapped in purgatory.

Sarah periodically checked her pockets on the walk, making sure that she still had the cross and the tubes of holy water. She felt good having them, but she felt even better now that she had the revolver. It was a confidence boost, and it was one that she desperately needed.

Storming back to the Bell mansion, knowing what was there waiting for her, was madness. She still didn’t fully understand what she was facing.

She stuck her hand in her pocket and her fingers nudged the wooden cross that was tucked inside. She stopped and then glanced up. The barren tree branches provided a limited view of the night sky, but it was the first time in a few nights where it was completely clear. No clouds, just stars.

Standing there in the cold, hungry and exhausted, Sarah found herself wondering who, or what, was giving her this sudden surge in strength.

All of her life, Sarah had never believed in heaven or hell, demons or angels. To her, it was nothing more than hocus pocus, a way for adults to get kids to do what they wanted them to do lest they be sent to hell and burn with the devil.

Sarah had seen plenty of what ‘religious’ folks had done during her time at orphanages and foster homes. And she had determined long ago that if there was a God out there, then he wasn’t the kind and forgiving God that she’d heard so many preachers and nuns talk about on the television and in church.

To Sarah, He was mean and spiteful. He was apathetic to the wants and needs of the world. He didn’t care what happened to anyone, so long as people praised His name and tithed their ten percent at the weekly offering.

But the priest that she’d spoken to back in Redford had been different than any other that she’d spoken to before. There was intelligence to his words, and while he talked tough, there was love hidden in his message.

Maybe she didn’t have it all figured out.

After all, with everything that she’d seen, there was proof in what she’d experienced that there were forces at work that stretched beyond the natural world. She had seen a witch, and she had felt the devil, she had seen ghosts and spirits, and she had seen more than she could probably handle.

With no watch, the passing of time was distorted. Instead of minutes or hours, Sarah measured the distance walked and the time passed by the aches that began to form along her body. Her feet were first, and then it traveled to her thighs, then her back, and finally her hips and lastly her shoulders.

And just when Sarah was about to drop the pillowcase and take a break, she saw the mansion through the trees ahead.

It was the west wing spiral that wound high into the sky. She wasn’t sure how close she was to the witching hour, but since there weren’t any demons flying around or fire raining from the sky, she figured she still had some time.

But while the sight of the mansion and her encounters with it had previously brought a feeling of hesitation, now she only felt a sense of urgency. Urgency to get this done, and to finish it quickly. She knew that the longer she dragged it out, the worse it would be for everyone else involved. The only thing that mattered now was ending this curse and stopping the end of the apocalypse.

Like her previous break-in, Sarah hovered near the tree line on the west side of the estate. Darkness had concealed the house in a shroud, with no light penetrating the inside. It was like no one was home.

But something didn’t feel right, and it was evident by Sarah’s instinct to stay put. She couldn’t be sure, but she felt like something was watching her, waiting for her to—

“Hello, Sarah.”

Sarah jumped, springing off the ground and covering her mouth to muffle the gasp. When she landed on her heels, she rocked backward and landed hard on her ass, the orb and the pillowcase sprawling across the frozen dirt.

Iris floated above her, all white and glowing and translucent. Sarah frowned, her breathing fast, as she examined Iris’s floating projection.

“You’re… dead.” Sarah shook her head and then pushed herself off the ground, still in shock at the woman in front of her. “But how did you—”

“There isn’t time,” Iris said, quickly floating closer. “You must destroy the orb before the devil’s hour.”

“I’ve tried,” Sarah walked back and picked the orb off the ground, still using the pillowcase as a cloth between herself and the orb. “I’ve smashed it, I’ve kicked it, I’ve beaten it, and I haven’t even given it a blemish.”

“Only the blood of sacrifice upon the altar of evil can it be destroyed,”

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