Just as the three of them were talking, a knock sounded at the door.
"Who is it?"
Jamie got up and walked over to open it.
Standing outside was not a member of the film crew, but a thin old woman dressed in an expensive dark coat. Her sharp features and narrow eyes gave off an unpleasant feeling the moment she was seen.
"Who are you?" Jamie asked.
The old woman looked him up and down with open disdain, as if his very presence annoyed her.
"I'm looking for Anne Hathaway. Where is she?"
Her voice was sharp and cold.
Before Jamie could respond, her eyes had already moved past him and landed on Anne, who was seated on the sofa.
"Anne…"
Without waiting for permission, the woman brushed past Jamie and strode into the room.
Her expression instantly changed into something far warmer as she approached Anne.
"Sorry to keep you waiting. How have you been feeling lately? Have the insomnia and nightmares improved?"
Anne gave a helpless smile.
"No, not at all."
At the side, Rachel leaned toward Lucien and lowered her voice.
"This is Ms. Elizabeth Smith. She was introduced by the psychologist I contacted for Anne."
"She specializes in difficult cases and firmly believes Anne's condition is psychological."
Lucien's expression didn't change.
Another stubborn believer in material explanations.
Elizabeth took Anne's hand in both of hers, speaking with practiced concern.
"I've made some recent progress regarding your condition. Give me a little more time and I'm confident I can find a treatment."
"Please trust me. Trust modern medicine."
Only then did Elizabeth finally notice Lucien sitting nearby.
Her brows immediately furrowed.
"And this is?"
Anne straightened slightly.
"This gentleman is Lucien. He's also the expert Rachel invited to help me."
A faint light returned to Anne's tired eyes.
"Don't let his age fool you. With his help, I finally managed to sleep peacefully for the first time in days."
"Oh?"
Elizabeth's face darkened almost instantly.
Her eyes slowly traveled over Lucien from head to toe.
"And may I ask, Mr. Lucien, which university you graduated from? Where do you currently work?"
The greed behind the question was impossible to hide.
Anne's case was rare.
If Elizabeth could claim to be the first to diagnose and solve it, publish a paper, and gain recognition, her name would spread through medical circles overnight.
How could she allow some unknown young man to steal that opportunity?
Lucien met her gaze calmly.
"What does that have to do with you?"
His tone was flat, but the room temperature seemed to drop a few degrees.
Elizabeth's expression instantly stiffened.
Lucien frowned slightly.
If she had been genuinely concerned for Anne, he wouldn't have minded the questions.
But the selfishness in her eyes was so obvious it was almost nauseating.
This woman cared more about fame than the patient.
Rachel quickly stepped in before things escalated.
"Dr. Elizabeth, why don't we speak outside? Anne needs to rest."
Elizabeth cast Lucien one last cold glance before reluctantly turning and leaving with Rachel.
As the door closed, Jamie leaned closer.
"Lucien, I have a feeling that old woman isn't going to let this go."
Lucien waved it off.
"That doesn't matter."
His voice turned colder.
"Freddy is the real problem."
He turned toward Anne.
"When the crew first moved in, did you find a glove with razor blades among the previous owner's belongings?"
Anne blinked.
"A glove with blades…"
She lowered her head, trying to remember.
"…Yes. I think so."
"The props team thought it looked interesting, so they kept it."
Lucien's eyes narrowed.
So Freddy wasn't lying.
"It's in the prop room right now."
Jamie frowned.
"You mean that thing is connected to the ghost?"
Lucien nodded.
"That glove is his anchor."
His tone became grave.
"The spirit haunting your dreams is called Freddy."
"In life, he was a sadistic killer who tortured and murdered children."
"The parents eventually cornered him in a boiler room and burned him alive."
"But his hatred remained."
"It turned him into a vengeful spirit."
Anne's face turned pale.
"So… should we destroy the glove now?"
Lucien immediately shook his head.
"Don't touch it."
His voice carried a sharp warning.
"Ordinary methods won't destroy it."
"And if someone handles it carelessly, they may die on the spot."
Jamie instinctively swallowed.
Lucien then took out two fresh talismans and handed them to Anne.
"Keep these with you."
"They won't stop you from entering the dream, but they'll protect you for a while once you're inside."
Anne stared at the talismans in her hands.
A thought suddenly flashed through her mind.
"If they work… what if we just use more of them?"
Lucien looked at her.
"Have you ever wondered why you're still alive?"
Anne froze.
Lucien continued.
"In the beginning, you couldn't even move inside the dream."
"So why didn't Freddy kill you immediately?"
Anne's breathing became uneven.
Fragments of those nightmares flashed through her mind.
The darkness.
The laughter.
The claws.
"Why…?"
Lucien's eyes hardened.
"Because he feeds on fear."
The words landed like ice.
"The more afraid you are, the stronger he becomes."
Jamie's face changed.
"That means…"
Lucien nodded.
"If he can't break through your protection right now, he'll move on to others."
"He'll drag the rest of the crew into the dream."
"He'll torment them."
"He'll feed on their terror until he becomes strong enough to tear through these talismans."
Anne's hands trembled.
Lucien continued, his voice calm but merciless.
"He won't kill you first."
"He'll isolate you."
"Break your spirit."
"Make you watch everyone around you fall apart."
"Only then will he come for you."
A deathly silence filled the room.
Even Jamie, who had already seen supernatural horrors before, felt a chill run down his spine.
No wonder Lucien considered Freddy far more troublesome than Mary Shaw.
Lucien slowly turned his gaze toward the window.
Anne and Jamie followed.
Outside, the golden sunlight was fading.
Purple shadows spread across the sky.
Darkness slowly swallowed the last traces of evening.
Night was arriving.
Lucien looked out into the growing darkness, his expression unreadable.
"Look carefully."
His voice was low and steady.
"The long night is coming."