The voice from the grave

away, and her senses were dulled. Her brain was devoting most of her concentration to Crawford's voice, listening for any danger signal from it. She shivered violently, her breathing fast an

ad been minutes before. Where am I in this? Rachel attempted to shift, but her body

g her chest. Something ancient, something rotten permeated the heavy, musty air along

as near but far, as though from some deep recess in her head. Her pulse pounding, she turned her head swiftly seeking the source of the noise. Still, there was nothing at all-only blackness. Her hands trembled as she extended herself, desperate

dy to stand, but her legs buckled under her, so she forced herself to get up. Her knees scraped on the hard ground, and she toppled to it. T

ldew odour permeated all around. Where am I? The room's low creak of floorboards followed a gentle thud. Rachel turned sharply to face the sound, but there was nobody there. Only the shadows, clustering at the room's corners, advancing. She cried, "Who's there?" her voice rough and shaky with terror. Nothing responded. Merely quietness. Then, however, something stirred in the gloom. Tal

ng cold physically as if the very air were devoid of warmth. Though her voice quivered, she cried, 'What do you want?' For what reason are you doing this with me? The drawing was unresponsive. They lowered their hand gradually, as though getting ready for something. This ran counter to my expectations. Rachel's head raced, her ideas circled in every way

ce was much more threatening and dark. Not only are you this, Rachel, but you are not alone. You are being reached by the past and it will not let go. Emma Turner's loss started off just now. What you have discovered... it's just a small portion of the whole. Rachel spins her head. Not this could be real. This is not possible he

u? You think Emma's death was an accident, a random tragedy." Still, it was not. And now, you are a c

n of the inquiry and the stress. Deep inside, though, she knew the harsh reality. Not this was a trick. The number advanced, its eyes fixed on hers with an intensity that caused Rachel's heart to quite beat in her chest. "You're in trouble," it said. "And you will know why quickly thereafter." The r

r several seconds, her skin growing to ice. And then it murmured one more word. Emma Turner is simply the start. Her surr

like alive beings devouring all in their path. Rachel yelled in her dark,,

was silent. Then a voice weak, distant, but clearly whisp

Run before i

shadows, the cold presence. Was she really losing h

ity that Rachel was too scared to confront. She had one option: flee or be