The lights in the hospital hummed—pale, steady, unblinking. Around Anna, machines stood like silent sentries, their wires tangled and tense, whispering quiet messages no one could understand. The heart monitor blinked and ticked in a steady rhythm, casting a cold green glow across the room. An oxygen tube curved beneath her nose. The slow hiss of air filled her lungs like breath that didn't quite belong to her. Electrodes clung to her chest and temples, and a clear IV line delivered a slow drip of medicine into the crook of her arm. Meanwhile, she didn't move.
The doctor had just walked out, his coat still swinging behind him. He didn't say much—just that she was stable and responding.
Now it was just Jill and Mr. Halden.
Jill sat by the bed, holding Anna's cold fingers. Her eyes looked tired and heavy, like she hadn't let herself feel anything in days.
Mr. Halden stood by the door like a statue—one hand in his coat pocket, the other clenched at his side. He didn't say a word. But there was guilt in his eyes. He'd been the one to bring Anna here. Found her on the floor, barely alive, just in time to keep her breathing. And still, he wished he'd gotten there sooner—before she slipped into a coma.
The door creaked open.
Adex walked in.
He stepped in like he was walking into a different world. His face changed when he saw Anna, then Jill—her eyes red, her mouth slightly open. He didn't say anything right away, just looked around. The machines. The tubes. Jill was holding Anna's hand like she was afraid to let go.
"I came as soon as I could," he said, his voice raw with fear.
Jill stood up before she could stop herself.
She crossed the room in three quick steps and threw herself into him, as if she needed to be certain he was there. She held him tightly, her face buried in his chest. She didn't say a word—just remained like that, eyes closed.
Adex froze, caught off guard. Jill hadn't held him like that in years—not since everything between them had become silent and unanswered questions.
He raised his hand, unsure, then rested it lightly on her back and held her.
"I thought—" she whispered, her voice trembling. "I thought she was gone."
"What happened?" Adex asked.
She stepped back and wiped her face, embarrassed, then looked at him like she owed him the whole story.
So she told him, in slow, broken sentences, how it all began with Anna seeing the ghosts of her children and dreaming about them night after night. How the guilt over their deaths gradually drew her under, until she resolved to end it. She claimed Anna jumped from the balcony and hit the ground hard. Mr. Halden arrived just in time, before she collapsed. She is currently recovering.
Adex looked at her, surprised and confused, as if he wasn't sure she'd believe what he was about to say. "I need to tell you something," he whispered gently.
Jill gazed at him with caution.
"We found her," he said. "Linda Monroe. She's alive. Hiding out in some house in the middle of nowhere. Emma helped us—"
"Wait," Jill cut in, leaning forward. "Who's Linda Monroe?"
Adex blinked. "You don't know who Linda Monroe is?"
"No."
"Anna didn't tell you about our journey?" Adex asked.
"No, she didn't," Jill replied.
He told her everything Linda had said—the entity, the patterns, the dreams, the missing people. And how the thing inside Jill was older than memory, and smarter than any of them.
But Jill was already shaking her head.
"No, no. You're thinking too small," Jill whispered. "You think this is just guilt? You think Anna broke down because of some old regret? No, Adex. This thing is hunting us. It hides in the parts of us we never talk about. The shame, the lies, the secret thoughts. That's where it lives. That's how it grows."
Adex narrowed his eyes. "So what are you saying?"
"I'm saying Anna didn't try to die because of guilt. Something made her try. Something used her mind like a stage."
Adex didn't speak. His fingers tapped against the edge of the plastic chair.
"I know the risk," he said quietly. "But I'm close, Jill. I can feel it."
"You don't understand," she said, shaking. "It'll come for you next. It's not random."
Adex approached her with a strange expression on his face.
"Then tell me," he replied. "Tell me who's next."
Jill's throat clenched. Her thoughts returned to Larry's voice, the blood on her bathroom floor, and the monster that had whispered to her in the dark. I will look into your past. I'll wear the faces you adored.
She shook her head.
"Please," Adex said. "You don't understand it. I need to warn them. Work with them. I need to stop this."
Anna remained motionless as she stared around the room, as if the walls were listening. The machines clicked and moaned.
"I'm sorry," Jill stated softly. "I didn't mean to."
"Didn't mean to what?" Adex questioned.
She met his gaze, and her eyes were tired, not from the night but from everything that had happened before. After years of lugging things no one could see.
"It's Ben."
Adex blinked. "Ben?"
"Yes."
Adex leaned forward. "Which Ben?"
She hesitated and swallowed. "Ben Badmus."
Silence.
The name hit the floor like glass.
Adex stared at her, expression frozen. His oldest friend. The one who stuck by him when the others strayed. The person with whom he shared class notes, swapped music, and had stupid cafeteria dreams.
"Ben?" Adex asked, his voice low, uncertain.
Jill looked down. "I didn't plan it."
Adex rose slowly, hands in his pockets. His expression stiffened, not in fury, but in something worse: silent disbelief—betrayal without a word.
He walked to the window. The street outside was vacant, with rain streaking the windows like veins.
He didn't turn around when he asked, "How long?"
Jill didn't answer.
From behind them, the heart monitor gave a tiny skip.
Then again.
Adex turned.
Anna's fingers twitched. Her lips moved.
But what came out wasn't a word.
It was a name.
"Larry…"
Then the screen beside her flickered.
And every light in the room blinked out.
—to be continued in Chapter Twenty-Five