Chapter Six
Elena
By the time my phone buzzed that evening, the house felt too big again.
From the creaks to the whispers of the wind against the windows, everything somehow seemed to make me jump.
So when I saw Mara and Talia calling in the group chat, I nearly sagged in relief.
Finally, some sense of normalcy, noise…life.
“Finally!” Mara’s voice exploded through the speaker. “We thought you died or got kidnapped on your way there.”
“I told you she wouldn’t survive more than a week,” Talia chimed in, and I could hear the grin in her voice.
I laughed weakly, but it felt almost good. “Wow. Love the support, guys.”
“Have you been eating at least?” she added, making me shake my head.
“Define eating,” I said, curling into the couch. “If coffee counts, then I’m thriving.” I smiled weakly, looking at the empty mug on the table.
Mara snorted. “You’re insane. What are you even doing all alone in that mansion anyway? And when is Max showing up?”
I hesitated for a split second too long. “It’s not haunted, Mara, and Max should be here the day after tomorrow.”
“Mm-hmm,” she said, her voice dripping with mock disbelief. “He’d better be. I’m just glad you two will be celebrating your birthdays together.”
“Yeah, me too,” I replied, unsure if it was a lie or not.
Having our parents’ death anniversary on my birthday wasn’t something I’d tag as great, but having to celebrate Max’s birthday on New Year’s Day was indeed great. I looked forward to it, and I couldn’t wait to see him.
We talked more about everything and nothing, from Talia telling us about the fight with her boyfriend, to Mara still pretending she didn’t like hers.
We argued, laughed, and complained about work.
For a while, I forgot about the heavy silence that had followed me since dawn.
Their voices filled the house with something I hadn’t felt in days; a sense of normalcy I’d almost been yearning for since getting here.
Something about us over the phone felt almost different.
I couldn’t place what it was, but it was like I didn’t have to pretend to be having a good time; because I actually was.
Then came that lull, that quiet moment after laughter, when everyone was just breathing, existing. I don’t know why I said it, maybe I wanted to test the waters, or maybe I just needed someone to tell me I wasn’t crazy. “Do you guys believe in ghosts?”
Silence. Then, Mara snorted. “What, like boo-I’m-here-to-haunt-you kind of ghosts?”
“Yeah,” Talia said between giggles. “Because, honestly, you sound like you’ve been bingeing too many paranormal TikToks again.”
“I’m serious,” I murmured. “Like…spirits that linger. You know, energy, entity, whatever you call them. But yeah, that sort of thing.”
Mara hummed thoughtfully. “My grandma used to say spirits can attach themselves to sadness. Or to people who are seeking death.”
I sighed silently. “I see.”
“And I think that in a way, it does make sense, the living wanting death, and the dead wanting the living? Very poetic,” she added
“Okay, okay, let’s see what the internet says,” Talia said, already typing. I could hear her nails clicking against the screen. “Okay, so…apparently, if you feel a ghost’s presence, you can use…oh my God, this is ridiculous, use your blood to chase it away.”
“Excuse me?” I gasped.
“Yeah,” Talia laughed. “You smear a few drops around you and point toward where you feel it’s coming from. It says if the ghost didn’t come for you, your blood will send it away.”
“Your blood,” Mara repeated, wheezing. “What kind of satanic Pinterest advice is that?”
“That’s disgusting,” I cringed, half-horrified, half-amused.
“Gross but poetic,” Talia added. “Like, be gone, spirit! Be gone with my hemoglobin!”
That had us laughing lightly.
“Wait, wait,” Talia said through laughter. “It also says, if it doesn’t leave, then the ghost has chosen you.”
That stopped me cold…chosen me?
“Who is making this shit up and putting it on the internet for fuck sake?” Mara laughed, and I laughed with them, but I couldn’t ignore the tightness I felt in my chest, and how the words burned themselves somewhere deep.
“Yeah, right,” I scoffed, forcing a smile into my voice. “Next they’ll ask you to sleep with garlic under your pillow.”
“That’s for chasing vampires away!” Talia corrected, laughing. “But who knows, maybe adding some chili peppers while you’re at it won’t hurt.”
We all laughed until tears ran down my cheeks. For the first time in a long time, it felt easy, light, and so good. We finally said our goodbyes, with me promising to call them every day until I’m back. For once I was looking forward to that, which was big, because I never looked forward to things.
I sat there, staring at my phone, the words echoing in my head. ‘If you feel a ghost’s presence, use your blood to chase it away.’ Maybe that was it, maybe it wanted something, or someone, and if I wasn’t the one, I’d make sure it never came near me again.
I wanted it to never come near me again, right?
Right! That train of thought was stupid, but how could I not think about it?
The memory of last night still lingered in the air around me, in my skin, my blood.
I could still feel its hands, its voice, the way it had me until I felt alive.
I shouldn’t be thinking this, it was absolutely stupid, and I wasn’t going to wait for it to happen again.
So I got up, with my heart pounding, and my bare feet making soft sounds against the polished wood floor as I went into my room in search of the dagger I’d brought with me.
It was the one Max gave me…the one I had used as the key to ending it all.
Why I had brought it with me, I still didn’t know, but I was glad I did. Maybe this time, it would save me.
“I’ll be ready this time,” I murmured as I ran my thumb along the flat of the blade.
The problem now was visibility. How would I be certain where it was? Last time, I’d only seen the footprints because of the mud. I needed something thick, sticky, something that would hold an imprint.
I sprinted to the kitchen to search, but came up with nothing. The storage room was next on my search, even the shed, but both came up empty. Cursing under my breath, I stopped and tried to think of something I could use. Then it hit me. The jam!
In the old warehouse at the back of the property, rows of drums stood stacked to the ceiling, relics of Dad’s business.
Strawberry, raspberry, plum, all sweet, thick, and crimson.
It was perfect, exactly what I needed. The storm outside hadn’t returned yet, but the sky looked bruised with it, so I had to act fast. I dragged one of the jam drums to the edge of the living room and pried the lid open.
The scent hit me instantly; sugary, fermented, and a little too sweet.
I dipped a hand in, and the cold goo slid over my skin like blood.
“This’ll do,” I whispered, half-laughing to myself.
I started spreading it across the floor, near the windows, and from the main door to the couch in the living room, where I’d be sitting and waiting.
Red streaks stuck against the polished wood, like a ritual paint, and my heart hammered in my chest, but it wasn’t from fear anymore.
It was adrenaline, anticipation, and dare I say… it was an invitation.
I paused and looked around the house, which smelled like sugar and madness. I should’ve been scared, I should’ve been calling my brother again to tell him I was leaving. Instead, I felt alive, excited, and like I was going into a battle knowing I would very much win.
“Come on, then,” I said into the empty air, my voice echoing. “If you’re real, if you came for me…then come again.”
The dagger gleamed under the dim light as I lifted it.
“I’ll show you what blood can do.”