Sins of the Ancestorz

Eliza awoke to the sound of soft rain tapping against her window. The morning light filtered weakly through the heavy curtains, painting the room in muted grays. The whispers from the night before had quieted, but their memory lingered like the remnants of a bad dream.

She dressed quickly and found Daniel in the kitchen, nursing a cup of black coffee. He looked as though he hadn't slept, his dark eyes shadowed and alert.

"Morning," he said, handing her a second mug.

"Morning," she replied, wrapping her hands around the warm ceramic. "I didn't sleep well."

"That's normal," Daniel said. "The Watcher doesn't rest. It feeds on your fear, your doubt. The more you resist, the harder it tries to break you."

Eliza's stomach tightened. "You keep saying I have to fight it. But how? What's the ritual you mentioned?"

Daniel placed his cup down and leaned against the counter. "The Watcher is bound to this house because of what your ancestors did here. The curse didn't appear out of nowhere—it was created by something your family unleashed. The ritual is meant to sever that connection, but it requires uncovering the truth about what happened."

"Great," Eliza muttered, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "So I just have to dig up my family's darkest secrets. Should be fun."

Daniel gave her a wry smile. "It's not going to be easy, but it's the only way. Your grandmother tried to keep you safe by locking it all away. That's why the room upstairs is so important. Whatever's in there will help us understand what we're dealing with."

Eliza's eyes widened. "I thought you said I shouldn't open that door."

"Not yet," Daniel said quickly. "Not until we're ready. The Watcher is strongest there, and if you go in unprepared, it could—" He paused, searching for the right words. "It could consume you."

Eliza shuddered but nodded. "So where do we start?"

Daniel gestured toward the study. "Your grandmother's journals. She spent her life researching the curse and the Watcher. If anyone knew how to fight it, it was her."

The two of them spent hours poring over the journals and papers strewn across the study. The air was thick with the scent of old parchment and dust, and the ticking of the wolf-shaped clock on the mantle was the only sound.

One entry caught Eliza's attention. The handwriting was rushed, the ink smudged as if her grandmother had been writing in a panic.

"The Watcher cannot be destroyed—it can only be bound. The bloodline is its anchor, and the ritual requires blood to sever the chain. But the price is high. Too high."

Eliza read the passage aloud, her voice trembling. "What does that mean? 'The price is high.'"

Daniel's expression darkened. "It means there's no way out of this without sacrifice. Blood binds the curse, and blood has to break it. That's why your grandmother kept the door locked. She wasn't willing to pay the price."

Eliza swallowed hard. "And you think I have to?"

"You might not have a choice," Daniel said grimly.

As the afternoon faded into evening, Eliza stumbled across another journal entry, this one marked with a small sketch of the manor. Beneath the drawing was a single line: "The answers lie beneath."

"What does that mean?" she asked, showing it to Daniel.

He frowned, studying the sketch. "I don't know. The house has a basement, doesn't it?"

Eliza nodded. "It's more of a cellar, really. My grandmother always kept it locked, but I found the key yesterday while cleaning."

Daniel stood, his movements quick and purposeful. "We need to see what's down there."

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