The moment he saw the cook's body on the floor, Thomas didn't know where to look.
Hundreds of images flashed through his mind — his wife, his child being tortured, others showed them beaten to death. Just imagining his daughter having her precious innocence stolen drove him insane with rage.
His jaw clenched at the thought of losing his family for good, and cold sweat ran down his forehead.
"No, no, no, no, no... N-not like this..." he said, his voice trembling.
He closed his eyes for a few seconds to calm down. When he reopened them, the kind and gentle Thomas Blake was gone. All that remained was a cold, calculating stare, with unshakable clarity.
The strangeness of the scene was chilling — the body just lying there, lifeless, with no visible wounds. Thomas had to confirm the death himself.
"What the fuck is this?"
On the other side of the kitchen: another body — the head chef.
'This shit stinks...'
No signs of struggle, no blood — just bodies left mid-task. Like their souls had simply been ripped out.
Leaving the kitchen, he grabbed a knife — the sharpest he could find — as a secondary weapon.
'Alright, time for the upper floor.'
At the bottom of the stairs, his gaze grew even colder. Since he hadn't seen anyone else but those two in the kitchen, his family had to be upstairs.
The wooden steps creaked under his weight.
'Blood...'
Blood was dripping from the top of the stairs. Preparing to shoot, he climbed cautiously.
'Whoever did this... will suffer the most horrific death.'
At the top of the stairs — Larry was there, lying on the ground, but when he collapsed, the knife in his hand had pierced him.
'Why the hell did he have a knife?!'
'Did he sense the threat, or was he with the enemy?'
He'd known Larry for 8 years and had done deep background checks on all his staff. No way he was a traitor.
'Rest in peace, Larry.'
In front of his daughter's bedroom, he hesitated a brief moment, bracing for the worst.
"Creeeak…" the door let out a soft sound.
'Empty…'
He threw open the door to his room — still nothing.
"Tsk!"
There was only one room left in the whole house he hadn't checked — the playroom.
The corpse of the housemaid was lying in the hallway leading to the playroom. Her belongings blocked the passage. He took a moment to move just enough to get through.
The playroom was split into two areas — one with all kinds of toys and the other more relaxed with beanbags and books, ideal for a child. The two sections were separated by a central shelf. Climbing plants stretched along the walls, complementing the posters and various figurines decorating the space.
The toy area was messy, which wasn't normal. To teach their child cleanliness, Thomas and Dorothy had always made Julia tidy up before leaving the room — and this time, she hadn't.
Refusing the truth hiding on the other side of the shelf, Thomas leaned against the wall, hands over his face.
'Come on, maybe she disobeyed this one time… But she's such a well-behaved girl… Maybe Dorothy took her for a walk. No, we would've done it with the puppy, right?'
...
Ba-dum!
...
Ba-dum!
...
Ba-dum!
...
'Come on, move!'
Thomas wanted to move and see the other side of the shelf, but his subconscious was holding him back.
After a few minutes of forcing himself, he finally stepped forward.
No surprise — Julia's body was in Dorothy's arms — she was probably reading her a book.
As obvious as it may seem now, for Thomas this was the biggest shock of his life — and he'd seen some shit — murder freaks, demon-worshipping cults, orgy groups, very real conspiracies against humanity. But this — this was the worst thing he had ever seen in his entire life.
Their smiles frozen in glass, no visible suffering, but the proof of death was right there in front of him...
"Ah…"
"No! N-no!.. NO! THIS CAN'T BE REAL!"
Thomas broke completely! All the coldness he had managed to keep, all the professionalism — it shattered to pieces. In that moment, Thomas was nothing but a broken father tortured by the loss of everything he held dear, everything he had built to finally live a normal life — all gone in a single moment.
He collapsed to his knees, pulling at his hair, his face twisted in madness — tears falling without him even realizing it. The shock was too much, too brutal for his brain to process — leaving only sorrow and insanity.
Thomas was torn between wanting to hold them in his arms and the fear of touching them. He slowly approached the mother-daughter pair.
"Daddy's home, sweetheart! My love, I'm here!" he said, forcing his voice through the shaking.
"Daddy went to get your surprise, you're gonna jump for joy!"
"Why aren't either of you answering me?"
Thomas touched his daughter's forehead, as if checking her body temperature. It was still warm.
[I was waiting for you, human.]
The voice in his head made him jump. He turned slowly, shaking, drained of all his usual presence.
Something he saw every day stood before him — familiar and unknown at the same time, because it followed no known rule. A spirit like nothing he had ever seen before. Usually, spirits took orb form, like Edna — but this one was grotesque, part-human, part-demonic. Knowing what it even represented… And that green color — never seen before.
The source of his misery was obvious.
'Spirits shouldn't even be able to alter the real world!'
"YOU!"
Thomas charged at the spirit, but passed right through it — after all, they don't live in the material world.
'Then how?!'
[Everyone here—]
"WHAT DID YOU DO TO THEM?!" he shouted, cutting the spirit off, trembling with uncontrollable rage.
[They're not dead yet.]
"W-what..?!"
'I don't get it anymore… I'm losing my fucking mind!'
The spirit stood right in front of him, its demonic grin widening.
[I have an offer for you — in exchange for the lives of everyone here.]
"I accept! Take whatever you need!" Thomas cried out.
[Give me your spirit and soul by contract, and I will release them.]
"Ah.. ah.. ahaha… So that's it… Why ask for m-my permission, when you took it so violently from them…?"
'He just wants to torture me — this isn't a deal.'
[There's a big difference between severing the link between body and soul without consent and retrieving it with consent… you know that?]
"Then what?"
[Without your consent, your soul will never truly be mine. All I can do is sever the link — like I did with your loved ones...]
"W-what are you going to do with my soul?"
[That's none of your business. But rest assured... you won't die — not entirely.]
Glancing back at his family, he approached them and gave them a long, tight hug.
"I love you, my love… Julia, I hope you'll like my gift."
Walking over to the window, he threw the knife and gun with all his strength — not wanting his little girl to see him with those in hand.
"Alright, I'm ready. Take my soul, let's end this." he said, without a shred of hesitation.
Just being able to play his role as the man of the house and save his family was enough for him.
The spirit stepped forward, reaching out a clawed hand. Thomas didn't move, staring down his grim fate with icy resolve.
A green glow wrapped itself around Thomas.
[In my name, Zelvirah, do you accept this contract?]
"Yes."
In that moment, Thomas's vision darkened.