Jennifer had found a secret passageway in the basement. It led to what appeared to be a laboratory, the air thick with the metallic tang of chemicals. On a cluttered desk laid a book. Curious, she picked it up. The pages were filled with rambling, disjointed text about children, souls, and being "so close."
"What the hell?" she muttered.
Then, a line froze her blood. "William's body will soon be mine."
"Ah, that book is my favorite!" a voice called from behind.
Jennifer spun around. Standing there was William—or whatever this thing was—wearing a malicious grin that didn't belong to her husband.
"What are you?" she asked, her voice shaking.
"Even I don't know the answer to that question, hun..."
Instinctively, Jennifer lunged, slamming the creature against the wall and gripping its throat.
"Don't call me that!" she snapped.
"Feisty as always, aren't we?" it taunted.
"It was you, wasn't it? You're the murderer... YOU'VE BEEN USING MY HUSBAND'S BODY TO KILL INNOCENT KIDS!" she accused.
The creature raised an eyebrow. "No, it was the guy across the street," it said sarcastically, then broke into a sinister laugh. "'Course it was me."
"Is this some kind of game to you?" Jennifer demanded.
"Isn't life itself a game? After all... I played you," it said.
"What do you mean?" she asked through gritted teeth.
"The man you called your husband for the last twenty-two years... has been me."
Jennifer's hand clenched into a fist, and she punched the creature square in the face. It groaned—and then laughed.
"Careful, you'll ruin William's handsome face. And neither of us wants that..." it said.
"Fuck you!" Jennifer yelled.
"With all due respect... you already have," the creature replied, and Jennifer struck it again.
It groaned, then composed itself. "You know, it's funny... Michael's more of a pussy than you are, AND YOU'RE A WOMA—"
Jennifer's fist cut him off.
"DON'T TALK ABOUT MY SON LIKE THAT!" she screamed.
"I think you knocked out a tooth with that one..." it said, chuckling despite the blow.
"I'll do way more than that in a second," Jennifer said, pulling out her pocketknife.
"You really want to kill William to get rid of me?" the creature asked.
"He'd want this," she said. "Now die!"
Jennifer drove the knife into the creature's heart. It groaned, but quickly regained it's composure.
"I'm afraid that's not possible. Not anymore," it said.
"How? How are you still standing? I just stabbed you in the heart!" she shouted.
"How about I return the favor?" it said, snatching the knife and plunging it into Jennifer's chest.
"An eye for an eye..." the creature murmured.
"God... damn... you..." Jennifer gasped, before collapsing.
Even in death, a remnant of her agony lingered—strange, considering she had barely seemed to feel any before.
"Never done experiments on the remnant of adults... this could be very interesting..." the creature whispered, a gleam of twisted fascination in its eyes.