Hannah POV:
Abigail and I reached the heart of town just as the last of the Spirit's Eve festivities were winding down. The lights had dimmed, and laughter drifted lazily through the air like the last breath of a dream.
Sebastian and Sam stood in front of the Saloon. Sam was holding a beer, as usual, and Sebastian's eyes met mine the second we came into view. He smiled, soft and knowing. My chest tightened.
"How did y'all get out so quick?" Abigail asked, clearly annoyed.
Sam shrugged and grinned. "Oh, we just bailed. You think I'm walking through that insane maze sober?"
"Cop outs," Abigail muttered under her breath.
"Congrats, you two." Sam lifted his bottle. "Maze champs."
Sebastian stepped forward. "We figured you needed time. And Sam missed me."
"Damn right I did," Sam said, making us laugh.
"Did you have fun?" Sebastian asked, his eyes lingering on me a moment longer than they probably needed to.
Abigail answered with a smile. "We talked. Caught up on a lot."
I nodded, but my mind wasn't on the maze anymore. It was still reeling from the conversation I'd had with Abigail—how the voices might not be just psychological, how maybe it was all something worse. The thought came crawling back, again and again. It always did. And no matter how many times I pushed it away, it waited for the next quiet moment to come clawing up my throat.
I shivered. Sebastian noticed.
"You okay?" he asked in a low voice, already reading me the way he always could.
I nodded reflexively. I hated lying to him. But how do you explain something like this without sounding... broken?
Abigail glanced over at me, and I forced a smile—one I hoped would distract her from how out of place I felt standing here. These gatherings always wear me thin. There's only so long I can be around people before everything inside me starts to shut down. My body aches for solitude, for the silence that only comes with being truly alone.
I caught her watching me again from the corner of my eye, her expression laced with subtle concern. I didn't acknowledge it. Instead, I turned my gaze toward Gus, Marnie, and Mayor Lewis, who were still packing up food tables nearby. Every sound felt amplified—the buzz of cicadas, the croaking of frogs, the shrill laughter of kids echoing from the maze. Even the distant crunch of footsteps on gravel had my nerves flaring.
"Maybe we should call it quits for the night," Abigail said, cutting into my spiraling thoughts. Her smile tried to soften the worry in her eyes. "Tonight was fun. How about we meet at Seb's tomorrow and go over some of Sam's new music?"
"Oh yeah!" Sam perked up. "I made some sick beats I've been dying to show you, Sebastian. I swear, you're gonna come up with something legendary."
His excited rambling filled the space between us, drawing Sebastian's attention away—thankfully. I didn't want him noticing how I kept glancing over my shoulder, flinching at every rustle in the trees, every echo of laughter that sounded just a little too sharp.
Eventually, we all began walking toward the fork in the path near my farm's entrance. We stopped where the trail split off.
"I think I'm gonna get some sleep," I said, my voice flatter than I intended. "I'll see you guys tomorrow."
Sebastian smirked and gave my forearm a gentle squeeze before slipping his hand back into the pocket of his hoodie. "You sure you don't want me to come stay over?"
I gave him a tired smile. "No, it's okay. I'm just... wiped."
He nodded, not fully convinced. Abigail pulled me into a hug, and Sam offered a casual wave before they peeled off in different directions.
"If you need me, just call," Sebastian said, brushing his lips against my forehead. "I'll probably be up for a while."
I nodded and turned toward my trail. The moment they were gone, I exhaled sharply. My entire body sagged. My social battery wasn't just low—it was completely drained.
Inside the farmhouse, the quiet wrapped around me like a balm. I shut the door, kicked off my shoes, and peeled off my dress. I tugged an oversized t-shirt over my head and crawled into bed without bothering to remove my makeup. I couldn't find the energy to care. I just wanted the dark.
But sleep didn't come.
Hours passed. I tossed and turned, then finally flung the blankets aside in frustration. The red digits on my alarm clock glowed 3:00 AM.
My body was exhausted—bones heavy, limbs aching—but my mind wouldn't stop. Thoughts rattled around like marbles in a glass jar. Every time I got close to drifting off, another intrusive flash would jerk me back. Screams from the Skull Cavern played in my head on a loop. Some real. Some imagined. All of them horrible.
You're going to die, the voice would whisper.
You should have died.
It will never be over.
It's not that I believe it—not fully. But the voice is relentless. Invasive. And I can't make it stop. It's like having a parasite in my mind that feeds on fear.
I pressed my hands to my temples and tried to will it away.
But I can't control it.
Sebastian – POV
It was nine in the damn morning when a knock pounded on my front door like it was trying to break it down.
I groaned. I'd barely gotten to sleep around two. Whatever it was could wait.
"Sebastian!" Abigail's voice rang out. Relentless.
I buried my head under the covers. No use. A second later, the door creaked open anyway.
"Get up. I need to show you something," she demanded, stomping into my room with all the grace of a marching band.
I pulled the blanket off my head and glared at her. "What."
"So, after I got home last night, I did some research..."
"Congrats. Now leave," I said and rolled back over.
"No, seriously—look." She plopped down beside me, flipping open her laptop.
I sighed dramatically. "This better be good."
She started scrolling. "Okay, so the Skull Cavern? It's not just some deep mine. It's ancient—like, stone age ancient. Some people think it was once used by the earliest civilizations in the Calico Desert. It's filled with relics, ruins... and according to a bunch of sources, it's a spiritual hotspot."
I blinked at her. "You're losing me."
She pushed on. "The deeper you go, the more... warped it gets. Places like that are breeding grounds for negative energy. And I'm talking demonic attachments, spiritual oppression, that kind of stuff."
I dragged myself out of bed and wandered over to my desk. I lit my bong and took a slow hit. If she was going to talk like this, I needed something to dull the edge.
She kept going. "The kind of symptoms Hannah's been having? They match the profiles of demonic oppression—constant fear, sleep paralysis, night terrors, hallucinations, intrusive thoughts..."
I exhaled a plume of smoke. "So what—you think Hannah's possessed?"
"Not possessed. Oppressed. There's a difference," Abigail said quickly. "It's like being attacked—not taken over. But the impact on the mind and body can still be devastating."
I frowned. "Or she's suffering from trauma and it's manifesting in psychological ways. Which is a lot more likely."
"Sure," she said. "But trauma-based psychosis usually lasts months—six, tops. It's been a year, Seb. And she's not getting better. If anything, she's getting worse."
That shut me up.
I looked down at the floor, jaw tight. She's right. I know she is. But it hurts to say it out loud. To admit I might not be able to help her—not just by being here.
"She flinches at nothing, hears voices she doesn't control, barely sleeps, can't eat... I don't know everything, but I do know trauma alone doesn't explain it."
I stared out the window as snow started to fall in gentle, whispering flakes. Winter had arrived. And Hannah was still haunted.
I thought just loving her would be enough. But love can't fix what you don't understand.
"She's suffering, Seb," Abigail said quietly. "And I think it's time we accept it might be something else."
I didn't say anything.
Because deep down, I knew.
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