Staring at Tim's silhouette against the creepy shack, I couldn't shake the doubt Ryan had planted. If Tim was playing us, he was doing Oscar-worthy work—saving me from Ethan's ghost, slapping talismans on Lila, the whole mystic shtick. But why? If Granny hadn't sent me to him, would he even be here? My brain was a smoothie blender, churning suspicion and gratitude into a messy slush.
Ryan stood with his arms crossed, eyeing Tim like a hawk watching a shady squirrel. He was waiting for Tim to pull a rabbit out of his Taoist hat or, more likely, trip over his own ghost stories. Suddenly, Tim stopped circling the shack, facing away from us. He spread his arms wide, fingers twitching in some arcane gesture that looked like he was directing traffic for demons. Then, in a move straight out of a kung fu flick, he yanked a foot-long wooden sword from his belt, raised it high, and stabbed it into the dirt.
"Whoa!" I blurted, my jaw dropping. "Is this guy summoning Captain Planet or what?" Ryan shot me a look, half-amused, half-annoyed, clearly thinking Tim was auditioning for Hogwarts: The Rural Edition.
Tim turned, his face dead serious. "Let's go in. I set a ward—keeps the bad juju out, but it won't hold long. Move fast."
Ryan smirked, sauntering closer. "What's inside, Ghostbuster? A poltergeist rave? Spill it."
Tim's eyes narrowed. "Heavy yin energy, mixed with human traces. It's dangerous—living or dead, something's off."
I glanced at Ryan, who patted his holster, ready to shoot first and debunk later. "Bullets don't work on ghosts, man," I whispered, but the shack's vibe was too creepy to ignore. I wanted answers, even if it meant waltzing into Cabin in the Woods. "I'm going in," I said, my voice steadier than I felt. "You coming?"
Ryan shook his head, his cop instincts kicking in. "You two play Scooby-Doo. I'll guard the door. If that tricycle granny comes back, someone's gotta deal with her. Plus, breaking and entering's not my vibe."
I frowned, picturing the old woman's cloudy eyes. "You sure? She gave me Addams Family chills. What if she's got a pitchfork?"
Ryan grinned, unfazed. "I've handled worse. Go." His tone said he wasn't budging, and I got it—someone had to watch our backs.
Inside, the shack was a sensory assault, reeking like a mix of moldy gym socks and expired sushi. I gagged, covering my nose. "Ugh, what died in here? Smells like a zombie's laundry day." Tim fumbled for a light switch, his flashlight beam dancing across bare walls. "No lights," he said, his voice tight. "Stay sharp."
"Great," I muttered, my nerves jangling. "We're in a haunted broom closet with no Wi-Fi." The shack felt bigger inside, like a TARDIS of terror, the air cold and heavy. I couldn't just stand there, so I inched forward, hands outstretched like a blindfolded kid at a piñata party.
My fingers brushed something wet, soft, and cold. I yanked my hand back, heart lurching. "Tim! There's something gross over here!" I hissed, my voice cracking. "Feels like I just high-fived a jellyfish!"
He was at my side in a flash. "What'd you touch? Show me!"
"I don't know, man! It's pitch-black!" I fumbled in my pocket, pulling out a lighter. With a shaky click, I sparked it and aimed the flame. The flicker revealed a body, wrapped head-to-toe in white gauze, hanging on the wall like a macabre art installation. "Holy crap!" I yelped, nearly singeing my eyebrows. "It's a freaking mummy!"
Tim's hand clapped my shoulder, and I jumped a mile. "What'd you see?" he asked, peering past me. I relit the lighter, forcing myself to look again. The corpse's face was pale, eyes sunken with black rings, lips red as a vampire's lipstick. Definitely male—not Lila. My pulse slowed a fraction. "Not her," I muttered, relieved but still freaked.
Tim's face darkened. "Corpse refinement," he said, like he was diagnosing a bad rash. "This guy's been dead a while, but someone's using rituals to… preserve him. That's why the yin and human vibes are mixed."
I blinked, my brain buffering. "Corpse what-now? You're saying someone's turning this dude into a zombie collectible? That's some Hobby Lobby from Hell stuff!" The stench hit me again, and I gagged. "This smell's coming from him. What's this got to do with Lila?"
Tim checked the body's nose, shaking his head. "He's gone, but the ritual's fresh. Someone's been here recently. Lila might've stumbled onto this—or been lured."
My mind raced. Lila, marked by the game, running to Hollow Vale for a cure, only to find this? Was she tied to this creepy corpse-crafting? Before I could process, a faint scrape came from the door, like someone was dragging a chair. "Ryan's signaling," I said, nodding to Tim. We bolted outside, the lighter's flame snuffed by the rush.
But Ryan was gone. The clearing was empty, the night swallowing any sign of him. "Where's he at?" I whispered, my stomach knotting. "That noise—wasn't him?"
Tim yanked me behind the shack, his finger to his lips. The familiar clank of the old woman's tricycle echoed closer, its rusty chain screeching like a banshee with a head cold. "She's back," Tim hissed, crouching low. "Stay quiet."
My heart jackhammered. The shack was our only cover—no trees, no bushes, just open dirt. If that granny was the zombie-making type, we were toast. "Where's Ryan?" I mouthed, panic rising. Had he ditched us to hide from her? Or had she… gotten him?
The tricycle stopped at the shack's door. I peeked around the corner, my breath hitching. The old woman's cloudy eyes didn't scan—she just shuffled straight inside, no hesitation, like she knew the place blind. "She can't see us," I whispered, remembering her blank stare. "But she's not human, right? How's she navigating?"
Tim's jaw tightened. "She's driven by something else. The game, maybe. We need to find Ryan and Lila before she figures out we're here."
I nodded, my mind spinning. Ryan's absence, the corpse ritual, Tim's convenient expertise—it all screamed setup. But if Tim was the bad guy, why drag me here? Was Lila inside, or was this shack the game's endgame, ready to claim us all? The tricycle's stench lingered, and I had a sinking feeling we'd just walked into the final boss's lair—without a save point