I am 15 chapters ahead on my patreón, check it out if you are interested.
https://www.patréon.com/emperordragon
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Chapter 98: The Return of the Necklace
Jon's Perspective
"You know," Jon said, voice flat and heavy with the weight of regret, "I think I actually preferred dealing with the cursed necklace over this nonsense."
He watched with tired eyes as Manny carefully adjusted the lighting in his bedroom. The young boy moved with the exaggerated seriousness of a director setting the mood for a noir masterpiece. Jon wouldn't have been surprised if Manny had demanded fog machines and orchestral music next.
Jay, sitting on the edge of the bed, let out a pained grunt. "I should've just let that golf cart hit me."
Manny, either too absorbed in his vision or actively choosing to ignore the growing irritation in the room, stood proudly in front of a large whiteboard. It was covered in an overwhelming flurry of arrows, color-coded highlights, and three dramatically circled words in bold red: Mystery.
"Alright," Manny began, his tone solemn. "Here's the structure for the documentary: three acts. Act One—Discovery. The beginning of our descent into the unknown. Act Two—Doubt. Where belief is tested, and truths unravel. And finally, Act Three—Darkness. The confrontation with the consequences of our actions."
He gestured like a conductor about to lead a symphony. "Jay, you'll serve as the narrator. Jon, you'll provide the grounded, rational perspective. Counterpoint, skepticism, science. And me? I'll compose the emotional backbone. A score in minor chords. Probably a cello. Something haunting but elegant."
Before anyone could argue or groan further, a sudden, piercing voice exploded through the walls of the house like a thunderclap from a judgmental deity.
"JAY FRANCIS PRITCHETT!"
Jon's stomach dropped. Jay visibly paled. Manny froze mid-sentence, the dry-erase marker slipping from his fingers and hitting the carpet with a soft thud.
"Welp," Jay muttered, standing like a man heading toward a firing squad. "It was a good life. Short. Dumb. But good."
Without exchanging another word, the three of them tiptoed out of the room and down the hallway with the guilty caution of teenagers sneaking back into the house after curfew. Given what had transpired the night before, that wasn't far from the truth.
As they turned the corner into the kitchen, they were met with a sight even scarier than the possibility of an ancient curse: Gloria, standing statue-still, eyes blazing, one hand on her hip and the other clutching Manny's camcorder like it was a weapon of divine judgment.
"You buried my family's cursed necklace?!" she shouted, shaking the camera for emphasis. "Are you all insane?! Burying a cursed object doesn't remove the curse—it only makes it worse!"
Jay lifted both hands like he was trying to ward off a bear. "How was I supposed to know that burying it made it worse?!"
Jon blinked. "Wait. Worse? There's a worse?"
Jay wasted no time. "Jon told me to bury it!"
Jon's eyes widened as he took a careful step backward. "Whoa. No-no-no. I never said bury it. I merely relayed information. From the internet. From a paranormal forum. It was a user called 'GhostDad420'—not exactly a credentialed expert. I even said we should wait until the full moon, remember?"
"Gloria," Jay added, his voice turning almost pleading, "we were trying to help! Manny blackmailed us into filming a documentary!"
Gloria's furious gaze shifted to her son. "You knew about this? And you didn't tell me?!"
"I—I was going to!" Manny stammered, backing up slightly. "Right after we finished filming! I swear! Context is important! For artistic integrity!"
"Enough!" Gloria snapped, her voice slicing through the tension. She clapped her hands like a general commanding her troops. "We are digging it up. Now. Before the spirits get angrier."
No one dared argue. Within minutes, the four of them were outside in the backyard, clawing at the earth like treasure hunters on a deadline.
Jay wiped dirt and sweat from his forehead. "This is the exact spot. I remember because I hit my foot on that root right there."
Jon crouched beside him and nodded. "Definitely the right place."
Manny, pale and visibly unsettled, brushed more soil away and stared into the empty hole. "It's gone."
Gloria made the sign of the cross, her voice trembling. "Ay, Dios mío… the spirits took it. We're too late. The curse is going to begin again."
No one knew what to say. They all just stood there for a moment, staring at the hollow patch of earth like it might suddenly spit the necklace back out in dramatic protest.
Eventually, they trudged back into the house, dirt-covered and tense, unsure of what would greet them next.
And there it was.
Lying in the middle of the living room floor, caked in mud and somehow still gleaming beneath a halo of overhead light, was the necklace. It looked eerily proud of itself, as if it had never been buried at all.
They all froze in unison. Eyes widened. Breaths caught. Jay murmured something under his breath that, to Jon's ears, sounded suspiciously like a prayer.
"Okay," Jon said slowly, cautiously, "this is... not ideal."
Then he saw it. Movement, out of the corner of his eye.
"Wait—look!"
Near the couch, a tiny, fluff-covered orange kitten was happily chewing on what appeared to be one of Jay's socks. The kitten—Ghost, Jon's lovable menace—was drenched in mud and looked quite pleased with himself.
Jon let out a long sigh and walked over, gently scooping the little feline into his arms. "It's okay. No ghosts. No demons. Just a very mischievous cat. Ghost must've seen us burying the necklace last night and thought it was a new digging game."
Jay collapsed onto the couch in relief. Gloria crossed herself again, this time in gratitude. Manny, meanwhile, looked deflated—clearly disappointed that the mystery had a far more domestic explanation than he'd hoped for.
"Of course," Jay muttered, shaking his head. "All this drama, and it was the cat."
Jon scratched Ghost behind the ears, smirking. "To be fair, he is kind of a chaos magnet."
Gloria, not taking any more chances, swiftly zipped the necklace into a large Ziploc bag, holding it at arm's length like toxic waste. "This is going into the church donation bin. Let the priests figure it out."
Jay looked over at Jon, eyes serious. "If that thing comes back again, we make Phil wear it."
Jon gave a solemn nod. "Agreed."
And so, the cursed necklace saga came to its unlikely end—not with an exorcism or moonlight ritual, but with plastic storage, a mischievous cat, and a guilt-driven, overly ambitious documentary.
Just another completely normal weekend at the Pritchett house.