No one had resisted Grace before. And it was breaking her apart. A line of blood ran from the edge of her lipless mouth. It pooled in her bulging eyes. The skin on her forehead was breaking and splitting, as a deep, anguished moan rose from her throat.

Leanne struggled harder. The memories ran through her head as bright and clear as lamps on a dark night. The pull was intense, like a tide wanting to drag her out into the ocean, but she held fast, despite the growing exhaustion.

For Henry. For Ann and Jayne and Paul and Andrew and every other soul you took for your twisted collection.

Grace’s head snapped back. The red eyes stared towards the ceiling, wild with pain and fear. The lips moved, forming a single word: “no.” Then her form twisted, writhing, crumpling in on itself. Like a piece of paper set alight with invisible flames, it tumbled down, contracting and withering into the circle on the floor. The hands were the last to go, clinging to Leanne’s wrists even after their own arms became soot. Even in death, she wasn’t willing to give up.

The grip was released. The candles went out, plunging the room back into darkness. Leanne dropped to her knees, gasping and shaking, her heart broken into a hundred pieces.

She didn’t know how much time had passed, only that her throat was dry and her head pounded. Every muscle ached. Leanne crawled onto her hands and knees, gasping from the effort.

The room was still dark, but it felt less oppressive than it had before. Her eyes, acclimatised, fought to pick out shapes. There was something small and metallic on the floor just a few feet away. She crawled to it and felt her hand close around her flashlight.

This time, when she pressed the button, the light flickered on. Leanne lifted it.

Dozens of pale faces stared back at her, each with a set of milky eyes. The children. They seemed dazed, but their expressions were no longer empty. They blinked and looked around themselves. Leanne turned her light across the group, searching for Henry, but instead, she found Patience.

The woman looked older than Leanne remembered. She bowed farther over her cane, and every movement seemed pained. Her lips lifted into a smile.

Leanne climbed to her feet. Her legs ached, and she felt like she was going to be sick. “What… what now?”

No one answered. They all looked at her, waiting for her lead.

She was desperately thirsty. She had water in her car. Slowly, she turned towards the door and fumbled with the handle to let herself out.

The hallway had changed. The wooden floor was crumbling. The walls were stained. The windows were all broken, leaving shards of glass across the floor. It was an illusion. She kept the house looking whole.