Chapter 3 The thing below

The bang reverberated through the walls, so loud that it almost knocked Jesse off her feet. It wasn't the sound of a door slamming or a footstep-it was something heavier, something that shook the house to its very core.

The woman's eerie smile never wavered. Her eyes, black and endless, watched Jesse with a chilling calmness. "You should've left when you had the chance," she murmured, her voice a whisper that seemed to come from all around them.

Jesse's heart pounded in her chest, the air thick with a suffocating pressure. The shadows in the room seemed to grow longer, stretching toward her, curling around her feet, crawling up her legs like a swarm of invisible hands.

And then, just as suddenly as it had started, the house fell into a strange, unnatural silence. The only sound was the quickened beat of Jesse's heart and the soft, labored breathing of her brother.

Sam stood motionless, his eyes wide, his lips parted in a silent scream that never came. His entire body was stiff, as though frozen in place by some unseen force. He was trapped-by something far worse than just fear.

The woman took a step toward him. "He is mine now," she said softly, her fingers stretching toward Sam like claws.

Jesse's throat tightened. "No!" she shouted, rushing forward and grabbing her brother's arm. "Sam, listen to me! This isn't you-this isn't real!"

But Sam didn't respond. His eyes were distant, unfocused, staring past her into the blackness of the room.

Before Jesse could pull him away, the air around them shifted again-this time with an almost tangible force. The house groaned like it was alive, the walls bending inward, the very floor beneath their feet seeming to pulse with an unnatural rhythm.

And then, from the deepest part of the house, came the unmistakable sound of movement.

It was a scraping noise-slow, deliberate, as though something large and heavy was dragging itself across the floor below. The sound sent shivers down Jesse's spine, each scrape a warning, growing louder with every passing second.

"W-What is that?" Jesse whispered, her voice barely audible.

The woman's lips twisted into a cruel grin. "That's what you should fear."

Jesse spun around, scanning the room for any sign of an escape. But there was nothing. The room was empty-except for the woman, Sam, and herself. The door she had come through was gone. The walls closed in, tightening the space, warping the room in ways that made no sense.

And the sound from below grew closer.

Jesse's pulse quickened as she turned back to Sam. She shook him violently, pulling at his arm. "Sam, wake up! Please, wake up!"

His face remained empty, as though he wasn't even there. His body was a shell-lost, unrecognizable.

She needed to get him out of here.

She glanced toward the corner of the room, where the shadows seemed to form a dark shape, twisting and writhing like something was fighting to break free from it. Her mind raced, trying to think of anything she could do, but the house was closing in on them.

The scraping from below grew deafening now-closer, louder. The air was thick with a nauseating, rancid scent, like decay and rot.

Something was coming.

She couldn't wait anymore.

Jesse grabbed Sam with both hands and began dragging him toward the door-the door that wasn't supposed to be there. As she moved, she could feel the weight of something behind her, like the shadows themselves were following her, closing in on her, wrapping around her legs with a tight, suffocating grip.

Her breath hitched as she pulled harder, her fingers slipping against the smooth, cold surface of Sam's arm. But he wouldn't move.

"Sam!" she screamed, desperation flooding her voice. "Fight it! Come back to me!"

But the figure in the corner stirred.

The woman stepped forward again, her eyes gleaming with dark amusement. She didn't walk-she slid, her body moving unnaturally, as though she was floating above the floor, her feet never quite touching the ground.

And behind her, in the corner of the room, a shape began to materialize.

A figure, large and dark, its form shifting, as though it was composed of the shadows themselves. It rose up slowly, a tall, hunched shape-its body barely recognizable as human, its outline stretching and distorting, like a nightmare in the flesh.

Jesse froze. She couldn't look away, even though every instinct in her screamed to run.

The thing moved, its steps slow but deliberate, dragging itself closer, its long, twisted arms reaching out from its body, stretching with impossible length. Its face-or what was left of it-was a grotesque mockery of humanity. Its eyes were hollow, black pits that seemed to swirl with dark, writhing smoke. Its mouth, too wide, split open in a grin that stretched far beyond any human proportions, revealing rows of jagged, broken teeth.

It reached out, its fingers curling toward Jesse.

Jesse stumbled backward, clutching Sam with every ounce of strength she had. She could feel him-his body limp, lifeless, as though he was no longer there.

The thing's voice echoed through the room, deep and growling, like the rumble of a thunderstorm. "You should have stayed away."

The woman laughed softly, her voice like a distant echo in Jesse's mind. "You cannot escape. Not from this house. Not from me."

Jesse's mind raced. She had to act fast. She couldn't wait for Sam to come back-she needed to find a way out, before it was too late.

Her eyes darted around the room, searching for any escape. Then she saw it. The window.

It was small, barely a crack of light shining through the grime. But it was her only hope.

With one last desperate effort, Jesse yanked Sam toward it, his body still lifeless in her grip.

But the thing-whatever it was-was too close now.

One long, twisted arm shot out and wrapped around Jesse's ankle. She gasped, the coldness of its grip burning through her flesh. The shadowed creature pulled her back toward it, its strength unimaginable.

The woman smiled, watching, her eyes gleaming with wicked satisfaction. "It's too late now," she whispered.

Jesse's heart raced, her breath coming in shallow gasps. She looked at Sam one last time, and for the first time, she saw something in his eyes-a flicker, just a flicker, of recognition.

Her brother was still there. Somewhere inside.

With everything she had left, she screamed, yanking her foot free of the creature's grasp.

"Sam!" she cried.

And then, in the distance, a deafening crash shook the house once again, like the earth itself was breaking apart