Angela's heart raced as she stood before her mother, the weight of the evening pressing down on her like a heavy fog. The opulence of the Pierce mansion, with its grand chandeliers and plush furnishings, felt suffocating in that moment. She could hear the distant echoes of laughter from the remnants of the housewarming party, but all she felt was a growing sense of dread.
"Mom, I need the truth," Angela repeated, her voice steadier this time, though the tremor still lingered.
"What's the connection between you and Mia and Tom?
I saw them at the party, and now no one is sure maybe they're involved in causing havoc—stealing that pendant af the museum and....attacking police.
Are you involved?"
Mrs. Pierce's demeanor remained composed, her elegant posture unyielding as she sipped her wine, the glass catching the light in a way that made it seem almost ethereal.
"Angela, it's not what you think. It's just business—a deal to protect our family's interests. They approached me with an opportunity, and I took it. That's all you need to know."
Angela's frustration boiled over. "Business?
People are dying, Mom! That's not some corporate merger—that's dangerous!"
She stepped closer, her fists clenched at her sides, searching her mother's face for any sign of the truth.
But Mrs. Pierce's lips pressed into a thin line, her eyes betraying nothing, leaving Angela feeling more isolated than ever.
"Speaking of trouble," Mrs. Pierce said, shifting the focus with a calculated grace, "what about you and Michael? Have you settled the tension between you two after that… incident at the party? He seemed quite upset."
Angela froze, her mind racing back to the moment Michael had gripped her arm, his strength unnaturally powerful, the violet glint in his eyes sending chills down her spine.
She hadn't shared the details with her mother, unsure how to articulate the supernatural edge to his behavior.
"It's… complicated," she muttered, avoiding her mother's gaze. "We haven't talked much."
Mrs. Pierce's expression softened, a faint smile playing on her lips, blissfully unaware of the darkness lurking within Michael.
"Well, sort it out, dear. Family and friends are our strength." Her words hung in the air, a stark contrast to the secrets she withheld, leaving Angela torn between pressing further and retreating into silence.
The tension between them thickened, a palpable barrier of unspoken truths. Angela felt the urge to confront her mother again, to demand answers, but the fear of what those answers might reveal held her back.
Instead, she took a step back, her heart heavy with the weight of uncertainty. The night felt darker now, shadows creeping into the corners of the room, mirroring the shadows in her own heart.
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
Scene: Ethan, Becky, and Mr. Harl's Meal and Intimate Discussion.
It was 08:30 PM and the cozy dining room of Mr. Harl's home, Ethan's uncle, near Haul Academy was filled with the comforting aroma of grilled fish and steamed vegetables.
The table was adorned with simple plates, the clink of cutlery blending with the soft murmur of a radio playing in the corner.
Ethan Hargrove, Becky, and Mr. Harl sat together, the meal a rare moment of calm amid the recent turmoil—the bird invasion at school, the occultic group's violent assault on Eldwood's police station, and Michael's unsettling behavior.
The conversation, however, inevitably drifted to these disturbing events.Ethan speared a piece of fish, his expression serious as he turned to his uncle.
"Uncle Harl, when the entity was still in you, how did it feel? Could you fight it back at all? Was it always in charge?" His voice held a mix of curiosity and concern, reflecting his own unease about the supernatural forces encroaching on their lives.
Mr. Harl paused, his fork resting on his plate, his weathered face reflecting a distant memory.
"It was like a dark fog, Ethan, seeping into my thoughts—cold, insistent, pushing me to act against my will....
....At first, I was lost in it, but there were flickers—small moments where I could resist, cling to myself—until Rossie broke its hold.
It left a lingering echo, though, like something watching from within." He took a sip of water, his hands steadying as he met Ethan's gaze.Becky, nibbling on a carrot stick, leaned forward, her camera propped against her water glass.
"Do you still feel the entity, Mr. Harl? After all that's happened?" Her tone was gentle, her eyes searching for clarity amid the recent strangeness.
Mr. Harl shook his head slightly. "Not really, Becky. The entity's presence has faded, but I sense another power lurking—different, quieter, hiding behind someone close.
It's like a shadow I can't quite grasp, growing stronger." His glance drifted toward the window, the night pressing against the pane, adding a subtle tension to his words...Curiosity driving her, Becky pressed on.
"Then why is our school full of strange happenings? The birds, the missing teens, Michael's weird outbursts—it feels like it's cursed." She looked to Ethan, her mind buzzing with the photos she'd captured.Mr. Harl sighed, setting his fork down.
"Haul Academy rests on ancient ground, Becky. There are old stories—rituals, sacrifices linked to a dark force. It might be drawing these powers, or someone's stirring them awake.
I know Rossie is extraordinarily gifted beyond words, but I suspect she's hiding it—keeping the depth of her abilities from us.
The entity never chases an empty soul; it's either a host or a threat to it.
I hope she protects herself always." His voice carried a mix of admiration and concern, the weight of his insight settling over the table.Ethan nodded, then shifted uncomfortably as Mr. Harl's tone softened.
"I heard Michael and Angela are together now, and Michael's leaving Rossie behind.
Well, I'm proud of you two—Ethan and Becky. I hope your love will stand the test of time."
The unexpected praise caught them off guard, their faces flushing as they exchanged awkward glances.Then, with a faint, knowing smile, Mr. Harl posed a sensitive question.
"On that note… Ethan, Becky, have you thought about after school? I mean, if Ethan was going to marry Becky someday?"
The room fell silent, the earlier tension giving way to an embarrassed pause, the personal inquiry adding a warm, human touch to the night's heavy discussions.
Ethan's cheeks flushed a deeper shade of crimson, and he fumbled with his fork, suddenly finding the grilled fish far more interesting than it had been moments before. He glanced at Becky, whose eyes widened in surprise, a mix of embarrassment and amusement dancing across her features.
"Uh, well…" Ethan stammered, his voice barely above a whisper. "I mean, we're just… you know, focusing on school and everything."
He shot a quick look at Mr. Harl who was watching him with a bemused expression, clearly enjoying the moment.
Becky, trying to ease the tension, chimed in, "Yeah, we're just kids! There's so much going on right now, with school and the—" she hesitated, glancing at Mr. Harl, "—the strange happenings. It's a bit overwhelming."
Mr. Harl chuckled softly, the sound warm and inviting.
"I understand, but it's important to think about the future, too. Love can be a powerful anchor in turbulent times.
Just look at how you two support each other."
He leaned back in his chair, his gaze shifting between them, as if he could see the potential in their relationship that they themselves hadn't fully acknowledged.
Ethan cleared his throat, trying to regain his composure.
"I guess… I mean, I care about Becky a lot. She's been there for me through everything." He reached across the table, his hand brushing against Becky's, a small gesture that sent a ripple of warmth through both of them.
Becky smiled, her heart racing. "And I care about you, Ethan. But marriage? That feels like a big step." She laughed lightly, trying to mask her nervousness. "We're still figuring out who we are."
Mr. Harl nodded, his expression softening.
"That's true, but it's never too early to think about what you want in life. Just remember, love is about partnership and growth. It's okay to dream about the future, even amidst chaos."
The conversation shifted slightly as they returned to the topic of the strange occurrences at Haul Academy.
"What do you think we should do about the birds?" Ethan asked, his brow furrowing in thought. "It's like they're drawn to something, and it's getting worse."
Mr. Harl leaned forward, his voice lowering conspiratorially.
"I think you should investigate. There might be clues hidden in the history of the school or the surrounding area. If there's a dark force at play, understanding its origins could give you an advantage."
Becky nodded, her curiosity piqued.
"We could start by looking into the old records at the library. Maybe there are stories or accounts that could help us."
Ethan felt a surge of determination.
"Yeah, and we can talk to Rossie. If she knows more about the supernatural stuff, she might have insights we're missing."
Mr. Harl smiled, clearly pleased with their resolve.
"Just be careful. The more you dig, the more you might uncover. And remember, you're not alone in this. You have each other, and you have me."
As the conversation flowed back to lighter topics, the atmosphere in the room shifted.
The earlier tension eased, replaced by a sense of camaraderie and shared purpose.
They finished their meal, laughter mingling with the lingering aroma of grilled fish, the warmth of the moment wrapping around them like a comforting blanket against the uncertainties that lay ahead.