"Both of you step closer," Ethan said, eyes fixed on the shifting ground. "If vines or anything else tries to drag someone under, we don't give it space to separate us. That would be inconvenient."
Selene moved without hesitation, positioning herself at his left. Wednesday stepped in on his right. They closed the gap until their shoulders nearly aligned, forming a tight circle with Ethan at the center and Enid still clinging to him.
The forest felt tighter now.
Leaves scraped across the ground without wind. Thin roots shifted just beneath the soil, tracing faint lines in the dirt as if testing for openings.
Then the whisper came.
"Join us…"
It was low and stretched, not carried by air but layered into it. No clear direction. No clear source.
Enid went rigid. "Okay. I officially hate this place."
"Join us…"
The voice multiplied. Not louder — closer. As if several mouths were forming the same word at once.
The trees creaked. A thin vine slid across the forest floor and coiled near Ethan's boot before going still.
Ethan looked down at the vine, then at the dark between the trees.
"Do I look dumb enough to join you?" he said dryly. He lifted his hand and showed the darkness his middle finger. "You rotten creeps should find a mirror first. Even you would hate what's staring back."
Enid stared at him in disbelief. "Why are you provoking the ghosts?" she demanded. "Is that necessary?"
The forest answered for him.
Vines shot out from every direction at once, tearing through leaves and snapping through the air toward them. The ground split in thin lines as roots surged upward, aiming to bind their legs and drag them down.
They came fast.
Before they could reach him, something moved behind Ethan.
A red, crimson silhouette rose from his shadow, tall and broad, formed from dense, burning energy. It stepped forward in one smooth motion and caught the incoming vines midair.
Enid blinked. "What is that?"
"Relax," Ethan said without turning. "That's me."
The red figure tightened its grip.
The vines strained and twisted, but the construct held firm. With a sharp pull, it yanked backward. The forest responded with a violent tearing sound as roots ripped free from the soil.
Entire sections of ground lifted. Trees connected to the vines shuddered, then uprooted with cracking wood and exploding dirt.
The crimson figure spun once, dragging the tangled mass with it, building momentum before releasing.
The uprooted vines and shattered roots were hurled high into the air, scattering across the dark canopy before crashing down somewhere beyond sight.
The forest fell into a stunned silence.
Wednesday stepped closer, eyes fixed on the towering red construct behind Ethan.
"Would you mind explaining," she asked calmly, "since when you've been capable of this?"
Behind them, something dragged across the leaves.
The mangled corpse at the tree trunk jerked once, then began pulling itself forward. One arm worked. The other hung loose.
Its torso twisted unnaturally as it crawled toward Wednesday, dirt and leaves sticking to exposed flesh.
It stopped a few feet from her.
Its ruined head tilted up. The lower half of its face was torn away, but its jaw still moved.
"Join us… or die."
It raised its remaining hand toward her.
Wednesday looked down at it without expression.
Then she stepped forward and placed her boot directly on its face, pressing it back into the soil.
"No."
The corpse twitched beneath Wednesday's boot, its fingers scraping weakly at her ankle as if it still had strength left to bargain.
She looked down at it, expression unchanged.
"The book specifies that certain spells grant a demon access through a human host," she said evenly. "Which implies someone here has already read from it."
She shifted her foot and delivered a precise kick. The head tore free from the body and rolled across the leaves, jaw working uselessly before falling still.
"That presents another problem," she continued. "The book didn't accompany us. So how would anyone here access it?"
Ethan frowned slightly.
That hadn't occurred to him.
If the displacement spell wasn't limited to geography, it might not be limited to time either. They could have landed somewhere adjacent to the event, not directly inside it.
He studied the forest again. The atmosphere. The structure. The familiarity.
Isolated woods. Demonic activity. Classic setup.
He closed his eyes briefly and reached outward, filtering through the noise of the forest until he found something solid.
A cabin.
Wooden. Old. Not far from their current position.
Inside it—
A man. Armed.
And Lucy.
Alive.
Ethan opened his eyes.
"Ash," he muttered.
***
In a wooden cabin deeper in the forest, Ash stood near the window, shotgun held steady as he stared into the darkness. He had heard movement outside minutes ago—something heavier than an animal and too deliberate to ignore.
Behind him, a nine-year-old girl with brown hair sat rigid on a chair, shaken but unharmed. Lucy hadn't spoken in several minutes. She just listened.
The woods had gone quiet.
Then—
Knock.
Three sharp strikes against the cabin door.
Ash turned slowly toward it, jaw tightening.
A calm voice carried through the wood.
"Lucy. I came to take you home."
A pause.
Then the voice came again, warmer this time.
"Come on. Open the door. Let your big brother in. Mom and Dad are worried about you."
Lucy froze in her chair. Her fingers tightened around the edge of the seat.
Ash didn't move toward the door.
He slowly raised his shotgun instead, eyes fixed on the handle.
This wasn't his first time hearing something wear a friendly voice.
"You demon son of a bitch," Ash muttered under his breath, steadying his aim. "You picked the wrong cabin."
The doorknob turned slightly.
"Try it."
*****
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