Sammy lunged like a shadow loosed from the wall. His eyes gleamed with that manic light, his grin carved too wide across his face.
Conus was ready, his dagger raised. He thrust forward, steel aimed for Sammy's chest. But to his shock, the host bent at an angle no human spine should have managed, twisting unnaturally. The blade scraped only across his shoulder, tearing cloth and flesh but leaving no mortal wound.
Before Conus could recover, Sammy rammed his body into him like a battering ram. The impact cracked through his ribs and sent him flying backward into a desk, splintering it completely.
Sammy did not pause. His knife glinted in the candlelight as he whirled and charged the closest target, Sarah. Her scream cut through the hall as the blade lifted high.
But someone else struck him first.
The tall gardener barreled into Sammy with a force that shocked even Conus. They both crashed to the ground, rolling across the floor. For a brief, trembling moment, Owen had the advantage, holding Sammy down with surprising strength. His arms corded, veins standing out as he wrestled the spirit's host.
Conus climbed unsteadily from the wreckage of the desk, his vision clearing. He had expected the plague spirit to grant monstrous strength, but Owen's raw power still surprised him. For a heartbeat, he wondered if Owen himself was truly human.
With a vicious kick, Sammy drove his heel into Owen's stomach. The blow lifted the towering gardener off the ground and flung him like a ragdoll. He slammed into the far wall with a dull thud and crumpled.
"Run!" the Oracle shouted. She seized Mara's trembling hand and pulled Sarah by the arm. Their skirts whipped in the draft as they bolted down the corridor, disappearing into the dark.
Sammy's head snapped toward them, the grin widening.
"No—" Conus roared. He dove and his body collided with Sammy's at full force, and together they crashed through the side doors. The old wood shattered, hinges snapping. The railings on the landing outside gave way with a splintering crack, and both men fell into the yawning dark below.
The floor rushed up to meet them. Conus twisted midair, bracing for impact. He hit hard, stone jarring his bones, pain sparking in his ribs again.
He rolled, dagger raised, eyes wide in the blackness. But there was nothing.
Only a low, callous laughter.
The sound slithered around him, echoing off the vast emptiness of the lower floor. Sammy was retreating, melting back into shadow where Conus' sealed vision could not reach.
Conus narrowed his eyes, thoughts racing. Twice now, the spirit had been given the chance to kill him. Twice, it had chosen not to. First in the hall, Sammy could have driven the knife into his chest. Now again, with Conus half-blind in the dark, the spirit could have finished him. Yet it hadn't.
That meant something.
The plague spirit was aware that he had a timer attached to his quest. It was waiting for it to run out so it could take his body instead. It was aware of everything.
He tightened his grip on the dagger.
From above, light flared. A candle bobbed in the blackness as footsteps thundered down the stairs.
"Messenger!"
It was Owen. His tall figure appeared through the gloom, bruised but still on his feet. His voice was low, urgent.
"He has gone after the girls."
Conus' stomach sank. His jaw tightened. "Then, we hunt him."
They ran.
The castle's halls echoed with their pounding steps. They followed the shrieking laughter that ricocheted through corridors like the cries of a banshee. It twisted, looped, always just ahead, luring them deeper.
Then silence.
The sound cut off, leaving the halls hollow and cold. Conus and Owen exchanged grim looks.
And then…
A scream came.
High, sharp, filled with agony.
They sprinted toward it, their breath ragged, candles flickering wildly in their hands. The sound led them to a side chamber. The door hung open, shadows quivering inside.
Conus pushed forward, and froze.
Sammy was there, atop Sarah. His knife rose and fell in a frenzy, stabbing again and again. Blood splattered the stone floor, warm and red. Sarah's voice broke into ragged gasps that grew weaker with every thrust.
Opposite them, the Oracle stood like a statue, arms spread protectively in front of Mara. Her eyes were wide in horror, lips trembling.
"Enough!" Conus roared, but it was too late.
Sammy's blade plunged one final time. Sarah's body went slack, her hands falling limp. The spirit-controlled host stood, chest heaving, blood dripping from the knife.
Then Sammy turned. His wide grin split impossibly across his face. He locked eyes with Conus, laughter bubbling again, wild and cruel.
And then, he collapsed.
The knife clattered to the stone. His body hit the floor with a dull thump. His mouth still wore that strange smile, frozen in death.
Conus' heart hammered in his chest. He knew instantly what it meant.
The host had given up. The plague spirit had abandoned the vessel. That could mean only one thing.
It had jumped.
And its new host stood somewhere in this room.
Conus' gaze swept across them. Sarah was gone, her body cooling in a pool of blood. That left three: the Oracle, Owen, and Mara.
Mara cradled Sarah's corpse, sobbing like a child torn from her mother. The Oracle remained rooted, eyes locked on Sammy's lifeless shell. Owen stood rigid, chest rising and falling, candle flame dancing against the stone planes of his face.
Conus spoke, voice heavy. "One of you now hosts the spirit."
The Oracle tore her eyes from Sammy's corpse and met his gaze. He turned to the others.
"Who touched him last?"
All eyes drifted to Sarah's corpse.
"Unless the dead can be possessed," Conus muttered grimly, "I don't think it's her."
Mara lifted her tear-streaked face, her words spilling between sobs. "It…it was Owen. He touched him last. I saw it. He held him down."
Conus' eyes shifted towards Owen. The gardener did not flinch. His voice was flat, unshaken. "I am not possessed."
"Now, that is not totally right. Messenger, you were the last in contact," the oracle said.
She was right but Conus knew he could not be possessed just yet. However, the oracle was unaware.
"It couldn't be me. I am protected by the night goddess." Conus said quickly.
"It's Owen," Mara spat again, her voice sharp through her tears. "I told you. I saw it. He touched him last. That thing went into him, I swear it. I feel it in my guts."
Conus tilted his head, narrowing his eyes. There was something in her insistence that rang differently. He rubbed a thumb against the hilt of his dagger and asked quietly, "Explain yourself, Mara. Why him? Why are you so sure?"
Her lips trembled, but she forced the words through. "Because I know it. My whole body screams it. My guts are never wrong."
The Oracle scoffed, stepping away from the corpse. Her eyes glinted with a mixture of disdain and sorrow. "Your guts? Your guts didn't stop you from dragging Sammy into the shrine with you. What happened to your guts then?!"
Mara's head snapped toward her, fury flaring in her expression. "This is different!" She turned back to Conus, her voice breaking into urgency. "Messenger, remember your time is running out. You need to put Owen down before it's too late."
Owen's eyes narrowed but he didn't move, his voice calm and steady. "If I were possessed, do you think I'd be standing here letting you debate it?"
"Or maybe you're buying time," Mara hissed, pointing at him with a trembling hand. "Maybe you're waiting for the moment when the Messenger falters and then, then you'll gut us all. Just like Sammy did."
Conus rubbed his chin, his thoughts circling like wolves. He felt the weight of every second pressing against him. His screen hovered faintly in his vision, the glowing numbers a cruel reminder—
00:43:07
His time was running out.
And Mara was right in one sense, he couldn't afford indecision. If the spirit had already jumped, then waiting meant death. Yet to strike blindly, he may kill an innocent, and that was not any better.
The Oracle studied him, her expression unreadable. "You are torn, Messenger. But the choice must be made soon. The spirit thrives in hesitation."
Conus breathed out slowly, his jaw tightening. He turned, letting his eyes sweep over each of them.
Then something clicked.
A thread pulled tight in his mind, and his eyes sharpened as they settled on Mara.
He straightened slowly, dagger gleaming in his hand. His voice cut the silence like a blade.
"Wait."
Everyone turned toward him.
Conus' gaze locked on Mara. "You said my time is running out." His tone was low, dangerous. "How did you know that?"
Mara's lips parted, her tears stuttering in her throat. "I…I just meant we we…"
"No," Conus interrupted, his dagger lifting higher, his eyes burning into hers. "I have never once mentioned a time limit. Not to you. Not to anyone in this room."
The Oracle's eyes widened slightly. Owen's jaw flexed, but he said nothing, watching Mara with sharp intensity.
Conus stepped forward, each word deliberate, measured. "So tell me, Mara. How could you possibly know?"