Breakfast the next day was a quiet affair at the White Peach Dawn Bed and Breakfast. Morning light filtered through lace curtains and illuminated the table where the sisters sat in awkward silence. They had exchanged no more than a dozen words over the coffee, pancakes and eggs, an uneasy distance stretching between them since the previous night.
Sam's fixation on the tome had caused her to miss dinner with Lilly, leaving her younger sister to eat alone at the Bookmark & Brew without a text or phone call. She had promised to meet up, assuring Lilly it would take just a few more minutes to finish checking work email, but those minutes transformed into hours as she struggled to open the Ravencrest book.
Now, Lilly twiddled her thumbs in frustration, casting Sam occasional glances that mixed annoyance with concern. Sam knew Lilly had a right to be upset; she'd said as much when she had returned to the B&B during the late hours of the previous night.
Sam sighed, setting her coffee down with a soft clink. “I am sorry, Lill,” she pleaded, guilt threading her voice. “It won’t happen again.” She tried to catch Lilly's eye, but her sister was intent on her breakfast, her silence a testament to her disappointment.
For a moment, Sam watched her, wondering how to breach the gap her actions had created between them. It was hard to pull herself away from the mysteries that seemed to deepen with every revelation about the book—or to be precise, every lack of revelation.
"How's everything, dears?" Angelica Graveltree inquired as she stood by their table, observing them both.
"It's good, thank you," Sam replied, glancing up with a smile. Lilly simply nodded in agreement.
"Alright, if you need anything, just let me know," Angelica said before wandering away.
Lilly glanced at Sam and said, "We should concentrate on wrapping up things at the bookstore. That way, Hank won't have to worry about the packing.”
Sam nodded in agreement, "Absolutely. Once we're done here, we can return there.”
Sam returned to her room, grabbed her messenger bag, and then noticed the tome. She lifted it, feeling its heft, while her fingers traced the family crest embossed on the cover. Her touch lingered on the lock, as if she could unlock it through sheer willpower. She ran her thumb over the brass fittings, feeling the weight of history and secrets long buried. Footsteps padded lightly behind her, then stopped. Sam didn’t look up; she didn’t have to. She knew the silhouette in the doorway, arms folded, hip cocked in a pose of impatient disbelief.
“You’ve been obsessed with that thing since you found it,” Lilly said, an exasperated edge to her voice. “What if it’s dangerous? We should show it to Hank.”
Sam shook her head, dismissing Lilly’s concern. “Mom hid it for a reason,” she replied, her tone resolute and stubborn. “We need to know why.”
Lilly's blue eyes reflected a combination of worry and frustration, her jaw set as firmly as Sam's resolve. "We came here to help with the bookstore, remember?" Lilly pointed out, her tone a mix of sarcasm and genuine concern. "The whole closing thing?"
Sam ran her hand along the bridge of her nose and tried to push away the growing thrill of discovery. “This is important, Lilly. It could change everything.”
“Maybe. Or maybe you’re just being...” Lilly’s voice trailed off as she searched for the right word, watching Sam’s intense gaze flicker back to the tome. “...you.”
Sam knew Lilly's patience, though vast, was not limitless. She slid the book into her bag with reverence, its presence pulsing like an insistent heartbeat. “Okay, fine. You win. For now,” she conceded, the words carrying reluctance and resignation. “Let’s go back to the store and finish boxing the books.”
“Finally!” Lilly said, a triumphant grin spreading across her face.
“Just remember,” Sam said, adjusting her glasses again and trying to match Lilly’s casual tone. “It’s all connected. The store, the book, everything.”
Lilly raised an eyebrow, a knowing smirk playing on her lips. “If you say so. Just don’t let it swallow you whole, okay?”
Sam tried to laugh off the comment, but there was an edge of truth to Lilly’s words. The thought of putting the book aside, even for a moment, gnawed at her.
They headed toward the door, the weight of their different priorities hanging between them. Sam was torn between her academic drive and the pressing urgency of the bookstore’s impending closure. Lilly sensed her sister’s tension and tried to break it with a playful shove as they stepped out.
“Come on,” Lilly said, a challenge in her voice. “I’ll race you to the car.”
“Can’t keep Hank waiting, right?” Lilly added, already halfway down the stairs, her laughter echoing back to Sam.
“Right,” Sam said, though her mind was on the book. Always the book.
With nimble fingers and fraying patience, Sam worked her way through stacks of books and thoughts of the Ravencrest tome, while Lilly tackled each row like an obstacle course. Hank hovered in the background, fussing with shelves before surrendering to the evening and deciding to head home.
"Lock up when you're done," he said, his footsteps creaking across the floor.
Sam nodded, her gaze unfocused as her mind filled with thoughts of possibly finding other hidden things. The store fell into a hushed anticipation as night settled over them. Boxes loomed like shadows. Silence replaced Hank's weary presence. And the allure of the book drew Sam back to it, inescapable.
“Are we getting close to done?” Lilly asked, a lightness in her voice that contrasted sharply with Sam’s brooding.
Sam glanced at her, her gaze drifting back to her bag, where the tome lay waiting. “I guess,” she said, though her tone was absent and distant.
“Good, because it looks like you’re about to burst if you don’t get back to your puzzle,” Lilly teased, tossing another stack of books into a box. Sam offered a sheepish smile, acknowledging the truth of her sister’s words.
“What’s stopping you?” Lilly asked, knowing the answer.
Sam walked over and pulled the book from her bag, her fingers itching to uncover its secrets. They sat on the wooden floor, the looming stacks of boxes casting long shadows. Sam settled cross-legged, her eyes locked onto the tome’s complex mechanism. The lock’s array of gears and buttons was a puzzle she couldn’t resist.
“Just don’t bleed on it, okay? I have seen what happens in movies.” Lilly said, the teasing note in her voice covering genuine concern.
Sam didn’t answer, her focus narrowing to a single point as she began her work. Her academic nature took over, drowning out all other thoughts. Lilly watched her, sensing the shift as Sam was drawn deeper into the mystery. The room seemed to grow colder, the light more subdued, as if the store itself held its breath in anticipation.
The Ravencrest tome sat like a silent challenge, its intricate lock a testament to Emil’s ingenuity. Sam worked with the precision of a scholar and the fervor of someone possessed, her fingers flying over the brass fittings and shifting pieces with practiced ease. Sam was oblivious to the passage of time, lost in the dance of metal and possibility. Lilly fidgeted beside her, half focused on her phone and half on Sam. A silent witness to Sam’s transformation. “It’s getting late,” she said, her voice tentative but insistent.
“Not until I figure this out,” Sam replied, her words barely more than a whisper.
The lock resisted Sam’s attempts, its design more cunning than she’d anticipated. Frustration and fascination warred within her, pushing her to new heights of obsession. Lilly stood and paced, watching Sam with growing concern. The Ravencrest tome seemed alive under Sam’s touch, its presence a force that pulled at them both.
“You sure you know what you’re doing?” Lilly asked, her voice breaking the heavy silence.
“Almost,” Sam said, though the word carried more hope than certainty. She ignored the cramp in her hand and the hunger in her stomach, driven by a need she couldn’t fully articulate. Then, with a sharp click that reverberated through the silent room, the lock released. The metal clasp sprang open, catching Sam’s hand with hidden blades and gouging her palm.
She gasped, pulling back as blood spilled across the leather cover. Her heart raced with a mixture of triumph and pain.
Lilly was at her side in an instant, her expression a mix of horror and relief. “I told you not to bleed on it!” she exclaimed, worry sharpening her voice.
Sam's senses filtered out everything but the sight before her. The droplets of blood pooled on the cover, creating a twisting design and absorbing the crimson liquid with a greedy hunger. A sudden glow emanated from the book, a sigil, now pulsing with an eerie inner light. The air crackled with a charged energy, filling the space around them with a sense of impending revelation.
Sam stared at the Ravencrest tome, the light reflecting in her wide eyes. “Oh my god,” she breathed, the words an admission of both wonder and fear.
The depths of Ravencrest Manor pulsed with ancient purpose, the shadows twisting and dancing across the cobwebbed panels of the basement’s walls. At its center, a carved sigil mirrored the glow of Sam’s bloodied tome, awakening like a watchful eye. Smoke seeped through its edges, dark tendrils winding upward, spreading with sinister intent. The very structure of the house seemed to tremble in anticipation, responding to a call that crossed time and space. Silence stretched across the abandoned rooms, waiting to be filled with unspeakable things.
The sigil’s pulse was relentless, beating like a dark heart, infusing the basement with its otherworldly presence. Smoke curled from its edges, black and unyielding, curling upward through the gaps in the paneling. The tendrils of smoke spread like a living thing, oozing with purpose. They crept through the cracks and seams, finding their way into the walls and up into the manor's unsuspecting heart. The ancient house seemed to react, quivering as the ink-dark smoke slithered past its ornate flourishes and into rooms that had long stood silent. The once-elegant corridors absorbed the creeping shadows, the sigil’s power transforming them into something ominous. The sigil’s influence touched every surface, staining the once grand home with its inky residue.
Ravencrest absorbed the smoke and glow, as though coming to life in response to the sigil’s call. The boundaries between the present and the past seemed to blur, and the house readied itself to unleash secrets that had been dormant and waiting. Silence stretched across the old halls, a silence that was both eager and dreadful, anticipating what would happen next. At the center of it all stood a woman in the shadows, her glasses gleaming in the light, with black-gloved hands extended in delight.
Sam and Lilly stared, paralyzed by the uncanny light, the bookstore transformed into a theater of impossible shadows. Sam felt her heart race with both terror and excitement, the discovery even more monumental than she’d dared hope. Lilly drew back, her voice cracking with fear. “Close it! Let’s go, Sam. I’m serious.”
Sam’s fingers brushed the edges of the pages, disbelief and exhilaration fighting for space. She glimpsed a list of names on the front inner cover of the tome, words swimming in the unnatural glow, each bearing the mark of a different hand. Emil Ravencrest at the top and then other names she didn’t recognize before settling on the last name, Jill Caine. “It’s not—” Sam began, her explanation cut short as the lights started to dim.
Sam’s voice trembled with both irritation and confusion. “It’s nothing. It’s just... we can figure this out.”
“Figure it out later!” Lilly insisted, panic edging her words. “I’m not kidding, Sam. This is way too weird.”
They scrambled to their feet, the heavy press of the unknown bearing down on them. Sam felt the pull of the Ravencrest tome, even as fear prickled at her resolve. She turned her attention back to the book, its eerie glow illuminating the confusion on her face. The pages were filled with dense, meticulous handwriting, an inventory of secrets too vast to absorb all at once.
Lilly stood at the edge of the light, her features a mixture of impatience and dread. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” she said, disbelief coloring her tone.
Sam flipped through the pages with frantic curiosity, names and dates swimming before her eyes. The glow of the tome cast flickering shadows across her face, the pale light intensifying the urgent need to understand. Her fingers hesitated over the inside of the cover, the familiar names leaping out like accusations. Emil Ravencrest, Samuel Ravencrest, and more. The words at the bottom almost escaped her notice, penned in handwriting as unique as a fingerprint. Jill Caine, her mothers name. She looked up at Lilly, who was wide-eyed and on the verge of bolting.
“It’s all here,” Sam said, her voice an uneven mix of excitement and disbelief. “I knew it. I told you!”
The glow intensified, casting the room in a sickly hue. Sam tried to push aside the creeping fear, but Lilly’s anxious expression was hard to ignore. “We’re going to end up dead,” Lilly said, her voice now frantic. “Do you want that?”
Sam shook her head, half at her sister, half at the impossibility of the situation. She reached for an explanation, trying to align what she knew with what she saw. “There has to be a reason,” Sam insisted, clinging to the rational. “It’s... it’s chemical. There’s some kind of... phosphorescence. That has to be it.”
Lilly snatched her arm, urgency lending strength to her grip. “Sam, look around. This isn’t just some freaky science experiment!”
Before Sam could respond, the bookstore lights shrieked in electric agony before surrendering to total blackness. The sudden loss of light was like a punch, knocking the breath from their lungs.
“Sam!” Lilly cried, her voice cutting through the thick black. “Get your phone!”
The smell of ash and earth filled the room, heavy and ancient. Sam’s mind spun with disbelief and fear, the familiar environment suddenly hostile and strange. She fumbled with her bag, fingers brushing against the cold metal of her phone. She activated the phone's flashlight, its thin beam piercing the darkness yet falling short of the distant walls.
The whispers began, a low murmur that wove through the silence like a living thing. They circled Sam and Lilly, a chorus of sounds without language, carrying a weight of years and secrets.
Sam’s heart raced, her skepticism cracking under the pressure of the unknown. She had no explanation for what they experienced, no logic to cling to. “Keep it together,” she said, more to herself than to Lilly. Her voice lacked its usual conviction, her doubt clear.
Lilly grabbed her own phone, the beam jittering with her unsteady hands. She looked at Sam, her fear laid bare.
“I am so not okay with this,” Lilly said, her words breaking. “What’s going on?”
Then the runes appeared, ancient symbols scrawled across the bookstore walls, their sudden luminescence burning through the shadows. Sam’s flashlight beam revealed them one by one, each marking echoing another language, something old.
She stared in disbelief, her world turned upside down. For the first time, Sam felt the edges of her certainty unravel.
“This can’t be real,” Sam muttered, the words hollow. “It just can’t.”
Lilly’s instincts took over. She pulled Sam toward the door, urgency and fear lending her strength. “We’re leaving. Now!”
Sam grabbed the tome, clutching it tightly as they stumbled through the chaos. The lights flashed back on and off, erratic and menacing, adding to the disorientation. The whispers, the glowing runes, the scent of ash—they all pressed in on them, an overwhelming reminder of the unknown that surrounded them.
Sam’s disbelief gave way to sheer survival. They pushed past the stacks of boxes, Lilly leading the way with the certainty of fear. The night air hit them like a shock as they burst through the door, the bell’s tinny ring a jarring contrast to the dark, oppressive silence they left behind. They ran into the foggy streets, breathless and terrified, the sounds and lights of the bookstore fading into a sinister memory.
The tome was a heavy weight in Sam's arms, its glow receding into the binding as they fled. Her mind spun with questions and possibilities, all more frightening than she’d ever imagined. The confusion and chaos trailed them, thick and inescapable, a promise of what was yet to come.