Chapter 14 – Whispers Beneath the Rain
The storm had started at dusk. Not one of those fleeting rains that came and went unnoticed. No. This time, the sky had shattered like a cursed mirror, and the rain felt like penance. Each drop struck the house with the force of a thousand memories. It was as if the house itself were crying.
Rei stood by one of the second-floor windows, watching the lightning sketch twisted outlines of the forest trees. Beside him, Yuki was dozing in a chair, a blanket draped over his shoulders. He had insisted on staying with Rei that night, fearful of what might happen if Rei wandered again in sleep, drawn by Ershem's whispers.
Since that night in the basement, something had shifted. The connection between Rei and the house had grown stronger, like an invisible thread tugging him in unspeakable directions. Noah, meanwhile, had thrown himself headfirst into researching the urban legends surrounding the area. He stayed up late scanning forums, reading ancient articles, comparing old and new photographs of the house. One detail kept bothering him: in nearly every archival image, there was a strange figure. A child standing at the gate, his face hidden by shadow.
"Ershem," Rei murmured, not realizing Yuki had heard.
"That name again?" Yuki asked, his eyes fluttering open. His voice was soft, almost a caress.
Rei didn't answer. He simply turned and walked toward him. The way his steps echoed on the aged wood felt almost ceremonial. He knelt in front of Yuki, who noticed something in Rei's eyes—fear, desire, or maybe both. Rei took his hand gently and held it against his cheek.
"I don't want to lose myself again," he whispered.
Still unsure, Yuki didn't pull away. His heart raced. Rei's touch was warm, and his skin damp, as if he, too, were crying inside.
"Then don't let go," Yuki said.
For a moment, silence blanketed them. Then, from deep within the house, came a long, aching creak. It wasn't the wood or the rain. It was something else. Something deeper. Something alive.
Meanwhile, Noah was behind the house, flashlight in one hand, a folder of clippings in the other. He had found something in the original blueprints: an underground passage connecting the house to the old orphanage in town, burned down decades ago. The entrance, according to the documents, should be hidden beneath what once was a toolshed.
Soaked and muddy to the knees, Noah finally uncovered a stone slab with symbols carved into it. One matched something he'd seen in a forbidden symbols book: a closed eye surrounded by thorns.
"There you are," he whispered, brushing away moss.
With great effort, he lifted the slab. A gust of icy air greeted him. A spiral staircase descended into darkness.
Without a second thought, he went down.
Inside the house, Rei had fallen asleep against Yuki's side. Yuki watched him with growing tenderness. Despite his dark past, Rei had a fragile quality that stirred something in him. Something tethered Rei to this place… and maybe Yuki, too, to a past he'd long forgotten.
Suddenly, a loud thump shook the floor.
Rei woke with a gasp, as though something from below had summoned him. Yuki tried to hold him back, but Rei was already heading for the stairs.
"I don't know why, but I have to go down."
Without hesitation, Yuki followed.
Deep in the tunnel, Noah kept descending. The air smelled of damp and rust. The walls were covered in runes, and the farther he went, the more convinced he became—this was no mere passage. It was an altar. A shrine to something ancient.
At the bottom, he found a half-open iron gate. Inside, the remnants of scorched beds, broken dolls, and children's drawings greeted him.
And in the center, a figure stood with its back to him.
"Rei?" he asked.
The figure turned.
It wasn't Rei.
---
Chaos erupted above. The house shuddered. Windows slammed open. Lights flickered. Rei collapsed to his knees in the hallway, clutching his chest.
Yuki knelt beside him, panic rising.
"What's happening to you?"
"He's awake," Rei said. "Ershem has awakened!"
As he spoke the name, an echo rang through the house.
A scream without a throat. An ancient lament.
A welcome.