Katherine felt a different kind of shiver crawl across her skin. It wasn't just the supernatural cold in the air. It was the weight of knowledge, the certainty that Jonathan wasn't simply trapped in death… but in his final words. His last thought. The loneliness he had never escaped.
"I'm alone." Jonathan repeated, and this time, Katherine understood exactly what he meant. The vivid image of him bleeding out in that forest, completely alone, would now remain seared into her memory.
"I'm cold."
Now Katherine knew precisely how that cold felt, creeping, numbing… lethal.
Jonathan no longer spoke clearly. His voice was starting to fragment, slipping into incoherence. Whatever semblance of control had still clung to him was now gone. His memories consumed him, as if he were falling into them, helpless to pull himself out.
Katherine felt Lucía shift slightly beside her, the firm grip around her waist adjusting just a bit, as though readying herself for the inevitable.
"Katherine, he's becoming unstable. I don't think he'll be able to tell us much more," Lucía murmured, not wanting the redhead to exhaust herself any further trying to reach Jonathan with her voice. She had already seen how much it had cost Katherine the first time.
Katherine swallowed hard, her irregular pulse pounding against her temples. Jonathan stood at the brink of being completely lost in his own agony. If that happened… they might never be able to reach him again. He would become like Old Man Jenkins or the ghost in the lake, consumed by the trauma of his death, driven by grief and malice rather than memory, his humanity long gone.
"I'm alone… I'm cold… why does it hurt so much… why am I so cold…"
The air grew tense, the frost on his body quivering as it spread to surround the circle of salt protecting Katherine and Lucía from the full fury of the ghost.
"Mom… Samantha… I'm cold…"
Jonathan repeated himself one last time before falling silent. Black scars bloomed across his form, tearing into his soul just as they had torn into his flesh. He was deteriorating at a pace Katherine had never witnessed before.
She felt something inside her crack. This couldn't be his end. She couldn't allow the last trace of Jonathan to be a meaningless echo lost in the void. Even if he posed no danger, which he very much did, it was simply too tragic. She had to reach him. To bring him back.
A naïve thought… one she would soon pay for.
Katherine drew in a breath, feeling the warmth of the rosary in her hand. Exhaustion seeped into her bones, into her soul, until she doubted she even had the strength to do what her heart so desperately wanted. And yet, with a soft but resigned "You've got this" from Lucía's lips, Katherine found her voice again.
"Jonathan, you're not alone. I'm here."
There was a warmth in her words, almost sacred—a promise of comfort that vibrated through the soul. It was the purest, most innocent of declarations, carrying the honest desire of a girl whose only wish was to help.
Jonathan's echo shifted for a moment, order forming within the chaos, the eye of a storm. His attention now fixed on the redhead, the light that had once vanished in his gaze flickering back to life, though not strongly enough to break the trance.
Katherine tightened her hold on her only anchor, feeling Lucía's presence steady beside her. The rosary in her hand now felt unnaturally hot, but it wasn't enough to push her forward.
This time, Katherine gave everything she had, her memories, her intent, the warmth that Lucía's closeness stirred in her, the final trace of will within her, and the full weight of her faith, all of it burning to rekindle the embers of strength left inside her.
"I promise you're not alone. I'm with you."
It wasn't a prayer. It wasn't a sacred chant. Just a promise.
And yet, somehow, that promise was laced with the same power that had soothed Jonathan the first time. Perhaps even more so.
Unfortunately, this wasn't a fairytale, where the power of love saves everything, and Katherine's words triggered an unexpected reaction.
She barely had time to react.
The change in Jonathan was instant. His spectral presence, once flickering, snapped into clarity, more rooted in reality.
His eyes, or what remained of them, locked onto Katherine with desperate intensity.
"Warmth…"
Lucía tensed.
"Light…"
Katherine's pulse spiked. Something shifted in the air, the cold turned violent, as if battling against its own nature. The salt circle began to vibrate, as though struggling to repel some unknown force trying to break through.
"I need it."
Jonathan stepped forward, his hands now warped into claw-like distortions, reaching toward Katherine, aiming to rip the warmth straight from her heart.
But before he could reach her, before she could even step back, Lucía moved first.
It was instinct. Swift.
Her arms wrapped protectively around the redhead, her body bracing as she shielded Katherine from the strike, ensuring she stayed behind her. Drops of blood hit the ground, the mark of a scratch Jonathan had managed to land on Lucía when one of his claws pierced the salt barrier.
"Give it to me."
The specter screamed, more desperate and violent with each word.
Katherine felt the pressure in the air tightening around her. But just then, she noticed another movement from Lucía. She wasn't just shielding her, she was searching for something.
Her fingers moved precisely through Katherine's pocket. Not a theft. Not a desperate reaction. A plan.
"GIVE IT TO ME!"
And everything shattered.
The lights burst, scattering shards of glass across the room. The wooden floor splintered around them. And most importantly, the circle of salt broke completely.
Katherine felt the cold consume her instantly. Not just the morgue's chill. Not just Jonathan's. It was a void, stripping away her warmth, her strength, something deeper than even her life force.
"Light..."
Jonathan reached slowly toward Katherine's chest with his deformed hand.
"Warmth..."
His clawlike fingers curled inward.
"I need it."
Ready to tear the source of heat straight from the redhead's body.
Jonathan's words had grown erratic, but the hunger in his voice was real. He was taking it. Ripping it from her as if the very concept of life could be claimed. Even now, he was so close to devouring her.
Katherine felt her knees give out. Her vision darkened at the edges. Her pulse slowed to a terrifying rhythm.
"Katherine!"
Lucía's voice pierced through the darkness and the unnatural silence.
Katherine felt her world sway, but in the middle of her weakness, in the middle of the frost crawling along her skin, she sensed something else. A warmth not her own, shielding the last flicker of her vitality, like a soft wool blanket holding back the winter frost.
And then movement.
Lucía was already in action.
With the precision of someone who had been in equal or worse danger countless times, her fingers closed around something in Katherine's pocket, pulling it free with practiced speed.
"Enough!"
Lucía's voice rang out, furious at seeing Katherine so weak, so vulnerable, or hurt.
Her amber eyes burned with a supernatural light.
The holy water splashed across the floor in a motion sharp, fierce, and controlled.
And with a whispered Latin phrase, the energy in the morgue shifted.
"Exorcizo te, omnis spiritus immunde..."
Jonathan froze mid-action, as if someone had pressed pause on reality.
"Per nomen Domini nostri Jesu Christi..."
Lucía's voice seized the room, carrying a power and authority that wasn't hers alone. This was the word of God, and every creature of darkness was bound to obey.
Katherine could no longer keep her eyes open.
But before the darkness claimed her, she caught one final glimpse.
Jonathan, creaming, writhing. His spectral form splintering beneath the force of the words, under the burn of the holy water Lucía had cast.
His presence was torn from the morgue with a brutality that could not be stopped.
"NO!"
And then, the cold began to fade. And Katherine's awareness surrendered to the dark.