Amelia descended the hidden staircase.

One step.

Then another.

The wooden stairs creaked beneath her weight.

The darkness seemed to grow thicker with every step.

She held her phone in front of her, but the screen remained black.

No signal.

No battery.

Nothing.

Behind her, the hidden door had already closed.

Amelia tried to open it.

It wouldn’t move.

“Isabella?”

Her voice echoed down the staircase.

No answer.

She looked down.

The stairs continued deeper into the earth.

Much deeper than the basement should have been.

Blackwood House had three floors.

A basement.

Nothing more.

But this staircase seemed endless.

Amelia continued walking.

The air became colder.

Then she heard something.

A baby crying.

Amelia stopped.

The sound came from somewhere below.

A newborn baby.

Crying.

Crying.

Crying.

Amelia’s heart began racing.

“Hello?”

The crying stopped.

Silence.

Then—

a woman’s voice.

“Amelia.”

She froze.

The voice was familiar.

Her mother’s.

Amelia’s mother had been dead for twelve years.

“Mom?”

No answer.

Amelia took another step.

“Mom, is that you?”

The voice came again.

“Come to me.”

Amelia continued downward.

She knew she shouldn’t.

Every part of her mind was screaming at her to turn around.

But this was her mother.

Or at least—

it sounded like her mother.

After seventeen years of questions, Amelia finally had a chance to hear her voice again.

She couldn’t walk away.

The staircase ended.

Amelia stepped onto a stone floor.

She looked around.

A long underground corridor stretched in both directions.

Candles burned along the walls.

Every flame was perfectly still.

There was no wind.

Amelia stared.

Someone had lit them recently.

She walked forward.

The walls were covered in strange symbols.

Some looked ancient.

Others looked like words.

She recognized one.

BLACKWOOD.

Then another.

ROSE.

Then—

ISABELLA.

Amelia stopped.

At the end of the corridor was a large wooden door.

A name was carved into it.

AMELIA.

Her heart stopped.

“No.”

She stepped backward.

The door slowly opened.

A woman’s voice whispered:

“Come inside.”

Amelia recognized it.

Isabella.

Amelia stepped through.

The room was enormous.

It looked like an old hospital.

Metal tables.

Glass bottles.

Rusty instruments.

Chains hanging from the ceiling.

The walls were covered with photographs.

Amelia moved closer.

Her breath caught.

The photographs showed her.

As a child.

At five years old.

At eight.

At twelve.

At seventeen.

At twenty.

Someone had been watching her entire life.

Every photograph had been taken secretly.

Every photograph was labeled with a date.

Amelia looked at the oldest one.

She was eight years old.

The night Isabella disappeared.

Amelia touched the photograph.

A memory struck her.

She was standing in this room.

A little girl.

Crying.

Her grandmother was holding her hand.

Isabella was lying on the floor.

Blood covered her dress.

A man stood behind her.

Amelia couldn’t see his face.

Then her grandmother whispered:

“Forget.”

The memory disappeared.

Amelia stepped backward.

“No…”

A voice came from behind her.

“Now you remember.”

Amelia turned.

Isabella stood near the door.

But she looked different.

Not terrifying.

Not angry.

She looked human.

Her face was pale.

Tears ran down her cheeks.

Amelia stared.

“You are my mother.”

Isabella nodded.

“Yes.”

“My grandmother lied to me.”

“Yes.”

“My whole life…”

“Was built on a lie.”

Amelia shook her head.

“Why did she take me?”

“Because she hated me.”

“Why?”

Isabella looked away.

“Your grandmother wanted your father.”

Amelia froze.

“My father?”

Isabella nodded.

“Your grandmother was in love with him.”

Amelia stared.

“That’s impossible.”

“Your father loved me.”

“Who was my father?”

Isabella didn’t answer.

Amelia stepped closer.

“Tell me.”

Isabella looked at her.

“His name was Jonathan.”

Amelia’s blood ran cold.

She knew that name.

Her grandmother’s old diary had mentioned it.

But Jonathan had supposedly died before Amelia was born.

“Jonathan Blackwood?”

Isabella nodded.

“Your father was a Blackwood.”

Amelia’s mind raced.

“Then why did my grandmother say my father abandoned us?”

“He didn’t.”

“Where is he?”

Isabella’s face became sad.

“He is still here.”

Amelia froze.

“Where?”

Isabella pointed toward the floor.

“Below us.”

A sound came from beneath the room.

A heavy knock.

Amelia jumped.

BANG.

Then another.

BANG.

Something was trapped beneath the floor.

“What is that?”

Isabella stepped backward.

“Don’t open it.”

“What is underneath?”

“Your father.”

Amelia stared.

“He’s alive?”

“No.”

“Then what is he?”

Isabella whispered:

“Something else.”

Another bang.

The floor shook.

Amelia stepped toward it.

“Amelia.”

She stopped.

Isabella grabbed her arm.

“Listen to me.”

“Let go.”

“You don’t understand.”

“I want to know the truth.”

“The truth will kill you.”

“I don’t care.”

Isabella looked into her eyes.

“Your father made a deal.”

“With whom?”

Isabella pointed toward the ceiling.

“The thing that lives beneath this house.”

Amelia looked around.

“There’s something living here?”

“Something ancient.”

“What is it?”

Isabella shook her head.

“I don’t know its name.”

“Then how do you know it exists?”

“Because I heard it.”

“When?”

“Every night.”

“Where?”

“In my dreams.”

Isabella’s voice trembled.

“It promised to give me my daughter back.”

Amelia froze.

“Me?”

Isabella nodded.

“Your grandmother took you from me.”

“And you made a deal?”

“I tried.”

“What did you promise?”

Isabella looked at the floor.

“My soul.”

Amelia stared.

“You sold your soul?”

“No.”

Isabella whispered:

“I gave it willingly.”

Amelia couldn’t breathe.

“Why?”

“Because I wanted you back.”

Suddenly, the room became freezing cold.

The candles went out.

Every single one.

Isabella grabbed Amelia.

“He’s awake.”

“Who?”

The answer came from beneath the floor.

A deep voice.

“Father.”

Amelia froze.

The voice continued.

“Father.”

Isabella pulled her backward.

“Don’t listen.”

The voice changed.

It became her mother’s voice.

“Amelia.”

Amelia covered her ears.

“Stop.”

“Amelia, it’s me.”

“Stop!”

“Your mother.”

“You’re not my mother.”

The voice laughed.

A horrible sound.

Then—

the floor cracked.

Amelia screamed.

A hand came through.

Black.

Long fingers.

Sharp nails.

Isabella pulled Amelia away.

“Run!”

They rushed toward the door.

But it slammed shut.

Locked.

The thing beneath the floor began scratching.

Scratch.

Scratch.

Scratch.

Isabella looked terrified.

“He’s coming.”

“Who?”

“The first Blackwood.”

Amelia stared.

“Jonathan?”

“No.”

“Then who?”

Isabella whispered:

“The man who made the first pact.”

Amelia looked at the floor.

The cracks spread.

“Who was he?”

Isabella’s face became pale.

“Your great-grandfather.”

The floor exploded.

Something climbed out.

Amelia screamed.

It looked like a man.

But it was horribly deformed.

Its skin was black and burned.

Its eyes were empty.

Its mouth was sewn shut.

It crawled across the floor.

Isabella pushed Amelia behind her.

“Stay back.”

The creature stopped.

It looked at Isabella.

Then at Amelia.

It opened its mouth.

The stitches tore apart.

A terrible scream filled the room.

Amelia covered her ears.

The creature spoke.

“MY BLOOD.”

Isabella screamed:

“No!”

The creature moved toward Amelia.

Isabella stood in front of her.

“You can’t have her.”

The creature laughed.

“YOU GAVE HER TO ME.”

“I never agreed.”

“You promised.”

“I promised myself.”

“You promised your blood.”

Isabella looked at Amelia.

Then back at the creature.

“Take me.”

The creature stopped.

Isabella stepped forward.

“Leave my daughter.”

The creature smiled.

“I already have her.”

Amelia froze.

“What?”

The creature pointed at her.

“She belongs to me.”

Amelia felt something burning on her arm.

She looked down.

A black symbol had appeared on her skin.

The same symbol she had seen on the walls.

She screamed.

Isabella grabbed her.

“NO!”

The symbol spread across Amelia’s arm.

Up toward her shoulder.

Amelia fell to the floor.

She felt something enter her.

A voice whispered inside her head.

“Remember.”

Then—

everything disappeared.

---

Amelia was standing in a forest.

She was eight years old.

Rain fell around her.

She could hear screaming.

She looked toward the house.

Blackwood House.

A woman was running toward her.

Isabella.

“Amelia!”

The little girl ran toward her.

“Mother!”

Amelia froze.

She remembered.

She had called Isabella mother.

She had known her.

Isabella grabbed her.

“Run!”

“What happened?”

“Your grandmother knows.”

“Knows what?”

“About you.”

Amelia heard footsteps.

Someone was coming.

Isabella pushed her behind a tree.

“Don’t move.”

“Mother!”

“Whatever happens, don’t come out.”

“Where are you going?”

Isabella kissed her forehead.

“I love you.”

Then she ran toward the house.

Amelia watched.

A man appeared.

Jonathan.

He was holding a knife.

He followed Isabella.

Then—

Amelia heard a scream.

Her grandmother appeared.

She grabbed Amelia.

“Come with me.”

“No!”

“I know what you are.”

“What?”

“You’re not human.”

Amelia screamed.

Her grandmother covered her mouth.

“You are his daughter.”

“Whose?”

“The devil’s.”

Amelia’s memory broke.

She was back in the underground room.

The creature was standing over her.

Isabella was screaming.

“Leave her!”

The creature grabbed Isabella.

Amelia stood.

“Let her go!”

The creature turned.

Amelia looked directly into its eyes.

“I said let her go.”

The creature stopped.

For a moment—

it looked afraid.

Isabella stared at Amelia.

“How did you do that?”

Amelia didn’t know.

The creature slowly stepped backward.

Then it disappeared into the floor.

Silence.

Amelia looked at Isabella.

“What am I?”

Isabella was crying.

“I don’t know.”

“Tell me!”

“I don’t know.”

“Why was my grandmother afraid of me?”

Isabella shook her head.

“Because she thought you were the key.”

“Key to what?”

“To the house.”

Amelia looked around.

“What does that mean?”

Isabella pointed toward the wall.

A new door had appeared.

Amelia stepped closer.

A name was carved into it.

JONATHAN BLACKWOOD.

Isabella grabbed Amelia’s arm.

“No.”

Amelia looked at her.

“I have to know.”

“He’s dead.”

“I don’t care.”

“Amelia.”

“I want the truth.”

Isabella stepped backward.

“Some truths should remain buried.”

Amelia opened the door.

Inside was a small room.

A man sat in a chair.

His head was lowered.

Amelia stepped inside.

“Father?”

The man slowly raised his head.

Amelia screamed.

His face was covered in blood.

His eyes had been removed.

But he was smiling.

“Hello, daughter.”

Amelia froze.

Isabella screamed:

“Don’t listen to him!”

Jonathan laughed.

“Isabella.”

He stood.

“Still protecting her?”

Isabella moved between them.

“Stay away from her.”

Jonathan looked at Amelia.

“You have no idea what your mother did.”

“She told me you made a pact.”

Jonathan laughed.

“She made the pact.”

Isabella shook her head.

“No.”

Jonathan looked at Amelia.

“Your mother wanted you back.”

“Yes.”

“She was willing to sacrifice anything.”

“That’s not true.”

Jonathan smiled.

“Ask her what she promised.”

Amelia turned toward Isabella.

“Mother?”

Isabella said nothing.

“What did you promise?”

“Amelia…”

“What did you promise?”

Isabella started crying.

Jonathan whispered:

“She promised seven souls.”

Amelia froze.

“Seven?”

“Seven members of the Blackwood family.”

“That’s why you’re killing them?”

Isabella looked at her.

“No.”

“Then why?”

“Because I changed the deal.”

Jonathan smiled.

“I told you.”

Isabella screamed:

“SHUT UP!”

Jonathan laughed.

“Your mother promised seven souls.”

“But the house wanted something else.”

Amelia stared.

“What?”

Jonathan looked at her.

“It wanted you.”

Amelia stepped backward.

“No.”

“Your mother agreed.”

“No.”

“She gave you to the house.”

“You’re lying.”

Jonathan smiled.

“Ask her.”

Amelia looked at Isabella.

“Is it true?”

Isabella’s tears fell.

“Yes.”

Amelia’s heart shattered.

“You gave me to it?”

“I had no choice.”

“You sold me?”

“I was trying to save you.”

“You promised my soul?”

“I thought I could break the pact.”

“You lied to me.”

“I love you.”

Amelia stepped backward.

“You’re just like them.”

Isabella froze.

“Amelia…”

“You killed them for revenge.”

“I had to.”

“You’re no different from my grandmother.”

Isabella’s face changed.

“Don’t say that.”

“You are.”

“Don’t.”

“You wanted revenge.”

Isabella screamed.

“YES!”

The entire house shook.

Isabella looked at Amelia.

“They killed my child!”

“You killed six people!”

“They deserved it!”

“Did they?”

Silence.

Amelia stared at her.

“Did they all deserve to die?”

Isabella didn’t answer.

Then Amelia realized something.

The seven names.

The seven victims.

One of them was Isabella herself.

And one was Amelia.

The house didn’t need seven victims.

Isabella was creating them.

She was completing the ritual.

Amelia whispered:

“You’re helping the house.”

Isabella’s eyes widened.

“No.”

“Every person you kill brings the ritual closer.”

“No.”

“You don’t want revenge.”

“Stop.”

“You want to wake the thing beneath the house.”

Isabella screamed:

“NO!”

The walls began bleeding.

Jonathan laughed.

“She finally understands.”

Amelia turned toward him.

“What?”

Jonathan pointed toward Isabella.

“Your mother is not the one controlling this.”

Amelia looked at Isabella.

“Then who is?”

Jonathan smiled.

“The seventh victim.”

Amelia froze.

“Who?”

Jonathan pointed at Amelia.

“You.”

The lights went out.

Isabella disappeared.

Jonathan disappeared.

The room was empty.

Amelia stood alone.

Then—

a hand grabbed her from behind.

A woman’s voice whispered:

“Don’t trust your mother.”

Amelia turned.

A young woman stood behind her.

Isabella.

But not the ghost.

This was Isabella as she had looked twenty-five years ago.

Alive.

Beautiful.

Terrified.

Amelia stared.

“Who are you?”

The young woman smiled sadly.

“I am Isabella.”

Amelia stepped backward.

“Then who was the other one?”

The young Isabella whispered:

“My ghost.”

Amelia couldn’t breathe.

“What?”

“I died twenty-five years ago.”

“Then who is she?”

The young woman looked toward the darkness.

“The thing wearing my face.”

Amelia’s blood turned cold.

“Where is my real mother?”

The young Isabella pointed toward the floor.

“Buried beneath the house.”

Amelia stared.

“Alive?”

The woman shook her head.

“No.”

“Then what?”

The answer came from the darkness.

A voice.

Isabella’s voice.

“Your mother is waiting.”

The young woman screamed.

“RUN!”

The floor opened.

Black hands reached for Amelia.

She ran toward the stairs.

Behind her—

the young Isabella screamed.

The darkness swallowed her.

Amelia climbed.

Faster.

Faster.

She reached the hidden door.

She pushed it open.

She fell into the hallway.

The door slammed behind her.

Amelia lay on the floor.

Breathing heavily.

Then she heard footsteps.

Someone was walking toward her.

She looked up.

Daniel.

He was standing at the end of the hallway.

But this time—

he wasn’t alone.

Isabella stood behind him.

Her eyes were black.

Daniel was crying.

“Amelia…”

She stood.

“Daniel?”

He shook his head.

“Don’t come closer.”

“Where have you been?”

“I don’t know.”

“Are you alive?”

Daniel looked at Isabella.

“I don’t think so.”

Amelia froze.

Daniel lifted his shirt.

A deep wound was visible in his chest.

Amelia stepped backward.

“You’re dead.”

Daniel nodded.

“Yes.”

“Then why can I see you?”

“Because she brought me back.”

“Why?”

Daniel looked at Isabella.

“To warn you.”

Amelia stared.

“About what?”

Daniel whispered:

“Your grandmother wasn’t the last person who betrayed Isabella.”

“Who was?”

Daniel looked at Amelia.

“You.”

Amelia froze.

“What?”

“You betrayed her.”

“I don’t remember.”

“You were eight years old.”

“I was a child.”

“You told your grandmother where Isabella was hiding.”

Amelia shook her head.

“No.”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

Daniel’s face became terrified.

“Because Isabella wasn’t your mother.”

Amelia stared.

“Then who was she?”

Daniel whispered:

“She was your sister.”

Silence.

Amelia’s mind went blank.

Daniel continued:

“And your real mother…”

The lights suddenly went out.

A woman’s voice whispered in Amelia’s ear.

“Is dead.”

Amelia turned.

Isabella stood directly behind her.

Her black eyes stared into Amelia’s soul.

And she whispered:

“I am not here for revenge anymore.”

Amelia couldn’t move.

Isabella smiled.

“I am here to finish what I started.”

The hallway filled with screams.

And every door in Blackwood House opened at once.

TO BE CONTINUED…