That's Where Aurabelle Lives

Chapter 13: The Bloody Hand

The next day seems brighter. The sun filters through the leaves of an old oak tree, casting dappled shadows on the bench where Ethan and Lisa sit. Their conversation is hushed but intense, the mood somber. They've just left Sarah's place, and the air between them is heavy with concern.

"Did you see her eyes, Lisa? There was something... off about them," Ethan says, his voice a low murmur as he glances around the park to make sure no one is eavesdropping.

Lisa nods, her brows knitted together in worry. "I know. She kept zoning out, and when she did talk, her words were all...thoughtful. Not like how she normally is. It's like she wasn't even there," she whispers, her gaze meeting Ethan's with a flicker of fear.

Ethan feels a chill run down his spine, despite the warm air. He knows too well what it's like to have something else lurking within—a darkness that clings to his soul. The evil spirit that has latched onto him is a constant shadow, whispering sinister thoughts and desires. It's a burden he's managed to keep hidden from everyone, but now, as the topic of possession arises, he feels the spirit stir, eager to divert the conversation.

"Maybe it's not what we think," Ethan suggests, steering the topic away from possession. "It's possible Sarah hit her head or something in there. She could be dealing with some sort of memory loss, trying to piece things back together. It's all so weird. Perhaps something got to her but I doubt it's that big. She'll probably be back to normal in no time."

Lisa's expression shifts from concern to suspicion. She's known Ethan for years, and his sudden rationalization is out of character. His bipolar moods are making her dizzy. One minutes he's all for ghost now he doesn't suspect anything. "Ethan, since when do you brush off the possibility of ghosts? You're the one who always talks about hauntings and spirits. Why the change of heart now?"

The spirit hisses in Ethan's ear, a venomous whisper that sends a shiver down his spine. "The house, Ethan. You need to bring them back to the house. Take Lisa to the basement of the Walters haunted house."

Ethan clenches his jaw, fighting the intrusive voice. He can't lead Lisa into danger; he won't be the puppet of this malevolent force. With a silent effort, he shakes off the whispers, grounding himself in the reality of the park around him.

Lisa, however, notices the brief flicker of fear in Ethan's eyes, the way his body tenses as if bracing against an unseen adversary. It's unsettling, and she can't shake the feeling that something is terribly wrong—not just with Sarah, but with Ethan, too.

"Ethan, are you okay?" Lisa asks, her voice tinged with concern. "You seem... different." She turns away and sighs heavy while crossing her arms. "Honestly since we went in that stupid cursed house nothing has been the same!"

He  senses her frustration and forces a smile, though it doesn't quite reach his eyes. "I'm fine, just worried about Sarah. We should probably check up on her again soon and make sure she's okay. Maybe even...bring her a little gift."

Ethan and Lisa stroll down the narrow aisles of the local thrift shop, a cozy haven of second-hand treasures and forgotten items. The air smells of must, mingling with the scent of old leather jackets hanging near the back. The two friends are on a mission, their eyes scanning the shelves for something very particular.

"I think it'd be great for Sarah, you know? To have something to focus on," Ethan says, picking up a vintage camera that looks like it has seen better days.

"How cool! A camera? She'd love it." Lisa nods, her fingers tracing over the faux leather casing of another camera nearby.

Ethan smiles. "Yeah, and it's not just for her. We could all use it. A group camera, to document our lives, make a video collage. It could help bring back some of Sarah's memories," he muses, the idea blossoming in her mind.

Lisa tilts her head, considering the suggestion. "That's brilliant, actually. If we can capture the stuff we do together, maybe it'll trigger something for her. Plus, it'll be fun for us, too."

They settle on a sturdy, used camera that seems to be in working order. It's a bit bulky, but it has character, and most importantly, it feels right for what they have in mind. After testing it out and haggling with the shopkeeper for a decent price, they exchange a high-five and leave the shop, the camera safely tucked under Ethan's arm.

The excitement of their new project carries them all the way to Sarah's house, their conversation a buzz of potential scenes and moments they want to capture. However, as they approach the modest two-story home, the sound of raised voices slices through their cheerful plans.

"Is that—?" Lisa starts, but Ethan's grim expression confirms her fears.

They exchange a worried glance before tiptoeing closer, trying to make sense of the commotion. Through the partially open window, they hear Sarah's voice, sharp and angry, mixed with the deeper, more distressed tones of her foster parents. The argument escalates, and a crash sends a jolt through both Ethan and Lisa.

Without a word, they rush to the front door, just in time to see Sarah storming out, her hand bleeding and clutching a shard of glass. Her eyes are wild, her breaths coming in short, ragged gasps.

"Sarah, what happened?" Lisa asks, her voice trembling as she takes in the sight of her friend's injury.

Sarah's gaze is distant, almost detached, as she replies, "I killed their parrot. It wouldn't stop squawking while I was sleeping, and they... they just kept taking its side, disrespecting me. So, I punished them."

Ethan steps forward, his face pale. "Sarah, you need to come with us. Now." The urgency in his voice brooks no argument.

She nods, the glass falling from her hand to the ground with a soft thud as Ethan carefully wraps his jacket around her wounded hand. Lisa, still in shock but driven by adrenaline, grabs Sarah's other arm, and together, they guide her away from the house.

The trio moves quickly, almost running down the familiar streets towards Ethan's place. No one speaks; the gravity of the situation has snatched away their words, leaving only pure silence.