DEMENTED | Ethan Dolan

HABITUAL

Every Sunday.

That's when her paralysis attacks occur. She doesn't know why her body instinctively chooses that day, or why it even happens in the first place, but every Sunday night she awakens in a stiff positioned and suffers the eerie demonic sounds dancing in her ears. Y/N's tried every remedy in the book to prevent this from happening. She drinks tea, destresses all Sunday morning in every way possible, and has even reached out to a few online therapists to talk and get as much help as possible. Some suggest that it's just her body having a difficult time adjusting to a different environment, and maybe they're right. Maybe her ex-husband fucked her up enough to the point where her Sunday nights consist of the same feeling of dread and fear he caused in her whenever he got drunk.

But God, why Sundays though? It only happens on Sundays.

Sunday morning, Y/N decides it's finally time to take a stroll through the small town she resides in. A place so hidden, surely her past could never catch up with her here. The town of Rosebury Waters was a quaint little place, though when she walked past the groups of people walking about, they stopped and stared at her as though she were some sort of ghost. Not used to new residents, possibly?

Y/N grabbed a basket and began parading through the farmers' market, which was busy and buzzing around with the citizens of Rosebury Waters. She had a few mangoes, a bunch of bananas, a couple of oranges propped in her wicker basket when she felt a sudden tap on her shoulder. She turned around to find an elderly woman, who gave her a small welcoming smile before she spoke.

"I'm sorry to disturb you from your shopping, sweetheart, but I must ask you a question. Do you reside in the Seeker's Chambers?"

"The Seeker's what?" Y/N expressed confusedly, not having a single clue as to what the woman was talking about.

"Oh my. So you haven't heard, then."

She didn't like the ominous tone in the woman's aging, creaky voice. "Heard what, ma'am? I'm sorry, but I haven't a clue what you're talking about. I only recently moved here a few weeks ago, and there was no mention of anything about my property."

"Then you're agent neglected to inform you of your home's past," the woman replied, sticking out her shaky hand. It was then Y/N realized how truly old this woman was, but she obviously wasn't going to point out the matter, she's not disrespectful. "My name is Rose. I presume yours is Y/N."

The younger woman gaped. "How did you know?"

"Your name has been floating around here several hundreds of times by citizens. After all, you did purchase the forbidden Seeker's Chamber, the most haunted residence there is with the most gruesome tale. Care to know more?"

Instinctively, Y/N nodded her head, even though she shouldn't. She doesn't know this woman. Yes, she's sweet, but for all she knows, everything Rose is babbling about could just be bullshit. But here she is, paying for her items and then proceeding to follow the old woman down the road, to a tiny house perfectly fit for one. Now, Y/N is certain that she's not capable of murder, but she is getting strong vibes of creepiness when she enters her home which interior's the epitome of an antique shop.

Rose takes a seat on her wooden rocking chair, urging her to do the same on the couch, covered in plastic, in front of her. Y/N folds her hands together nervously, beginning to regret her decision as the woman doesn't say anything - she just stares straight into her eyes, certainly deep into her soul, reading her like a book. It didn't comfort Y/N at all. Why was she here in the first place? Oh right, curiosity eating her brain as to why people are trying to drive her out of her home. "So..."

"You are in danger," Rose spoke up, nearly startling the young lady into cardiac arrest, but she soon kept her composure. "Imminent danger, the longer you stay in that house."

"Why?" Y/N sighed, growing tired of all this vague rambling in regards to her residence. If she's truly in danger, why can't anybody just give her reasons? "No one ever tells why I have to leave, they just say that I do."

And even if she's in danger, this type of danger is much safer in comparison to the one she's been suffering for years.

Rose chuckled. "Oh dear. You know, I'm not surprised that you haven't learned your house's historic past. People around the village are too afraid to speak of the unbearable details that surround the home you live in. The folklore... is sort of forbidden to tell."

"Folklore? Forbidden?"

"Many believe if they retell the ancient tale of the Seeker's Chambers, they'd be cursed for the rest of their life."

Y/N raised a brow. "And you're not afraid to tell me what happened?"

Rose gave her pointed look. "Honey, look at me. Do you honestly believe I have much longer to live?"

Y/N widened her eyes.

The old lady laughed. "I'm joking! But in all seriousness, the mere thought of the story of what those horrid Dolans did is too much for anyone's mind to bear. Terrible, gruesome things went on inside your house, quite sickening to most."

Y/N leaned forward on her elbows, now curious. She always liked a good story. "What exactly did happen?"

Rose cleared her throat. "Well, many refer to your home as the Seeker's Chamber, but those who are too afraid to even acknowledge the creature living beyond the property call it Dolan's Cave. Many centuries ago, yes, even before I was born thank you very much, a family with the last name of Dolan built the home you reside in, and lived in it for years. During the time of their residence, the family committed awful acts against God, if you're the religious type. But it was all so immorally, so inhumanely wrong that just speaking of it sends shivers down my crooked spine.

"The most notorious of that clan was the eldest child, who went by the official name of the Seeker. To put it simply, his job was to find the family's victims. They presented a false act of Godliness and went to church, preying on the most innocent of soul's. The Seeker brought in the bait, took 'em home, and murdered them in the most vile way. They sacrificed their victims to Lucifer, Satan if you will, their worshipped hero. They'd tear out the hearts and the Seeker would take a bite - it's what made him feel the most powerful.

"They killed an endless amount of people, yet somehow nobody was ever suspicious of them. It had to be the Seeker's charm. However, when God learned of their horrible doings, he took the form of a mortal and used his power to punish them all. He battled Satan, and vanished the souls of the wicked. The Seeker, however, was somehow saved by Satan, and turned to a demon, bounded to your home for all of eternity with a spell that not even God could destroy. From then on, the Seeker haunted and tortured anyone who moved into that wretched home."

Rose explained more in detail of the horrifying tale, and though she didn't want to believe it, Y/N had a feeling that the elder woman was actually telling the truth. Or at least, maybe she thought she was telling the truth. It had to just be some mythical folklore, right?

"Now tell me, dear," Rose spoke, settling her shaky hands on her lap. "Has anything peculiar or eerie been going on since you moved in?"

"Well... it happens every Sunday night," Y/N decided to confess, though there was no doubt that this would fuel the woman's delirium, "when I make up in a frozen stance... like I'm undergoing sleep paralysis, if you know what that his."

"I know what that is. He's going easy on you, evidently. Usually he begins his torturous methods nonstop, until they're gone."

"He?"

"The Seeker," Rose reminded. "Though he does have an actual name."

The initials on her leg. "What's his name?"

"Ethan Grant Dolan," she answered, in deep thought.

Y/N gasped. They matched. Slowly but surely, she felted trusted enough to lift her lengthy black skirt to expose the marks on her skin, that didn't seem to heal at all when she got them. "When I was in sleep paralysis, a few weeks ago, I felt this burning sharp pain here... like someone was scratching into my skin and I couldn't stop it. This was the result."

Rose's bright blue eyes widened, and she leaned back, "Oh my! This is much worse than I thought. Now... now it's too late for you to leave."

"W-What? Why? What do you mean?"

"Sweetheart... It looks like the Seeker marked you."