I don't know who I am, I don't know who I'll be
If anyone bothers to freeze-frame the footage later—if they manage to pause it at just the right millisecond as Ronin's flashlight arcs across the basement—they'll find the sort of thing that ruins sleep. Blurred limbs too long for any human frame, eyes like voids where faces should be. A smear of something not-quite-human hovering just behind the beam. Blink, and it’s gone.
Down in the dark, though, there’s only disorientation.
Remi, crouched beside the well, murmurs something about the water. It’s soft, almost thoughtful, as if he’s speaking to himself, or to something just beneath the surface. But as he shifts, his foot catches the edge of one of the buckets, and it clatters to the floor, spilling a sheet of water across the cracked cement.
The splash breaks whatever spell had him. With a sharp inhale, Remi jolts upright like someone waking from a dream they hadn’t meant to have. His flashlight swings wild and unfocused as he reaches blindly for Ronin, his hand fumbling until it snags the edge of blue plaid, clenching hard. "We’re not alone down here," he whispers, voice full of breath and dread, eyes wide with something unspoken.
Above them, the pounding starts. Muffled shouts echo through the floorboards. The sharp bang-bang-bang of fists against wood, voices raised in panic from the dining room. The basement door holds, trembling in its frame, but does not open.
Down in the dark, though, there’s only disorientation.
Remi, crouched beside the well, murmurs something about the water. It’s soft, almost thoughtful, as if he’s speaking to himself, or to something just beneath the surface. But as he shifts, his foot catches the edge of one of the buckets, and it clatters to the floor, spilling a sheet of water across the cracked cement.
The splash breaks whatever spell had him. With a sharp inhale, Remi jolts upright like someone waking from a dream they hadn’t meant to have. His flashlight swings wild and unfocused as he reaches blindly for Ronin, his hand fumbling until it snags the edge of blue plaid, clenching hard. "We’re not alone down here," he whispers, voice full of breath and dread, eyes wide with something unspoken.
Above them, the pounding starts. Muffled shouts echo through the floorboards. The sharp bang-bang-bang of fists against wood, voices raised in panic from the dining room. The basement door holds, trembling in its frame, but does not open.
but there's a light in the attic and I swear it's calling me
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
