The Uncle's Inheritance
Craig had never been particularly close to his great uncle.
That wasn't really anyone's fault. His great uncle, Arthur Vale, had lived most of his life traveling around the world, buying strange things and apparently making a lot of money. Craig had met him exactly once, when he was six years old. Craig barely remembered the meeting. He remembered a tall, serious-looking man with a silver beard, a heavy gold ring, and an old scar running across one side of his face.
Then Arthur disappeared back into his strange life.
Craig's parents divorced when he was young, and he had grown up going between his mother's house and his father's apartment. His life in Towson, Maryland, was pretty ordinary. Middle-class neighborhood, public schools, part-time jobs, friends, and now, at eighteen, the nervous excitement of getting ready to start university.
Then, two weeks before he was supposed to leave, his father handed him an envelope.
"Apparently, your great uncle died," his father said.
Craig looked up.
"Great uncle Arthur?"
"That's the one."
"I thought he was already dead."
His father gave him a strange look.
"No. Not until last week."
Inside the envelope was a handwritten note.
Arthur had apparently left Craig something.
Not just something small, either.
According to the note, Arthur had owned a large estate in rural Maine. He had accumulated valuable paintings, antiques, books, jewelry, and archaeological artifacts over several decades. Some of his debts would have to be paid from the estate, but there would still be a substantial amount left.
Craig couldn't believe his luck.
Then there was the puzzle box.
The note explained that the box was centuries old and extremely valuable. But it was only one part of a larger object. The rest of the object was a sculpture depicting a tortured prisoner, his body twisted as he begged for mercy. The prisoner's hands were extended outward as though waiting to receive something.
The puzzle box.
There was also supposed to be an ancient book.
Arthur wanted Craig to have the entire collection.
There was only one problem.
The auditors were coming.
Craig had to get to the house and retrieve the collection before they arrived and inventoried everything.
Craig called his friends that night.
Fiona was his girlfriend. She was petite, brunette, wore wire-frame glasses, and had hair that reached almost to her waist. She was the smartest person Craig knew and had an annoying habit of knowing things he didn't think anyone should know. She was especially good with languages, including Latin.
Lacey came along because she was Fiona's best friend. She was blonde, pretty, sweet, and always ready for an adventure. She wasn't quite as academically gifted as Fiona, but she had plenty of common sense.
Kyle had been Craig's friend since elementary school. He was thin, red-haired, and had a sarcastic sense of humor that usually got them both in trouble.
Vern was the newest member of the group. Craig had met him in gym class. Vern was tall, athletic, and confident, and he had a fascination with history, especially military history and ancient cultures.
Within three days, the five of them were driving north.
It was supposed to be a fun little getaway before university.
None of them expected to come home.
Arthur Vale's mansion sat at the end of a long dirt road surrounded by thick Maine forest.
The house was enormous.
It looked like something built by a man who had never heard the words "too much."
There were towers, balconies, carved stone figures, stained glass windows, and an enormous front door.
Inside, it was even stranger.
The mansion was basically a museum.
There were Egyptian statues, African masks, Japanese armor, Chinese carvings, Roman coins, paintings from Europe, weapons from the Middle East, South American pottery, and things none of them could identify.
Then they began noticing the other stuff.
There were paintings of executions.
Sculptures of people being tortured.
Drawings of corpses.
Masks depicting demons.
And some artwork that was clearly sexual.
Lacey stared at a painting for several seconds.
"Your uncle was a rich, eccentric perv."
Kyle nodded.
"That might be the nicest way to put it."
Vern, meanwhile, was fascinated.
"This sword is probably six hundred years old."
"Don't touch it," Craig said.
"I wasn't going to."
"You were absolutely going to."
They eventually found the sculpture.
It stood in a dark room behind a set of double doors.
The thing was enormous.
A stone figure was trapped inside a representation of a narrow prison cell. Its face was twisted in agony. Its mouth was open as though it had been screaming for centuries.
Its hands were stretched forward.
There was an obvious space between them.
Craig pulled out the puzzle box.
It fit perfectly.
At the bottom of the sculpture was another empty space.
"For the book," Fiona said.
She walked around the sculpture and examined the writing carved into its base.
"It's Latin."
"Can you read it?"
"Mostly."
She adjusted her glasses.
"It says something like... 'Read the lines from the Book of Beyond Life.'"
Craig frowned.
"Beyond life?"
"That's a strange translation."
"Meaning?"
"Afterlife would make more sense."
Nobody spoke for a moment.
Kyle finally said, "That's comforting."
Craig remembered something.
"The note."
He pulled out Arthur's letter.
Near the bottom was a strange string of numbers and letters.
They had assumed it was some kind of inventory code.
Then they found the library.
It contained thousands of books.
And a Dewey Decimal system.
Fiona stared at the code.
"Oh."
"What?"
"It's a library classification."
They spent nearly an hour searching.
Eventually, they found the book.
It was nothing like anything else in the library.
It was thick and ugly, bound in something that looked disturbingly like dried skin. Metal clasps held it shut. Strange symbols had been carved into the cover. A face seemed to be worked into the leather, its mouth pulled open in a permanent silent scream.
Lacey took one look.
"Nope."
Craig picked it up.
"That's definitely the book."
They returned to the sculpture.
Fiona studied everything.
"The inscription says to read from the Book of Beyond Life. The box goes here."
She pointed at the sculpture's hands.
"And the book goes here."
She pointed to the empty space at the base.
Craig looked at Kyle.
"Well?"
Kyle shrugged.
"We came all this way."
Fiona hesitated.
"Maybe we shouldn't."
Craig smiled.
"Come on. We're just reading a book."
That was when Lacey said she needed the bathroom.
"I'll be back."
Vern stayed behind, examining one of the paintings of a medieval execution.
Craig, Fiona, and Kyle remained with the sculpture.
Fiona opened the book.
The pages were covered in strange writing and crude drawings.
She began reading aloud.
At first, nothing happened.
Then the wind started.
It came from nowhere.
The mansion had been sealed for weeks, yet suddenly the room filled with a powerful freezing draft.
"Where's that coming from?" Kyle shouted.
The pages began flipping.
Fiona tried to hold the book open.
She couldn't.
The pages whipped back and forth faster and faster.
Then the book slammed shut.
The puzzle box moved.
Craig froze.
The stone hands of the sculpture had wrapped around it.
But they weren't supposed to move.
The fingers began twisting the box.
Click.
Click.
Click.
Craig backed away.
"Fiona?"
"I didn't do that."
Another click.
The box opened.
The sound was small.
Almost delicate.
But something changed in the room.
The air became heavy.
A smell like burning metal filled Craig's nose.
The sculpture split open.
A thin black crack appeared in the air behind it.
Then the crack widened.
Something stepped through.
It was tall and unnaturally thin, dressed in black leather. Its pale head was completely hairless, and a pattern of metal pins ran across its face and scalp.
It looked at Craig.
Not with anger.
With interest.
Another figure followed.
This one was taller and broader, dressed in a dark, elaborate outfit. Its face was pale and almost corpse-like. Several chains hung from its body, and tiny metal hooks moved slightly as though they were alive.
Kyle whispered, "What the hell?"
The first figure raised one hand.
A chain shot forward.
It wrapped around Kyle's ankle.
Craig grabbed him.
The chain tightened.
Kyle screamed.
Craig held on.
For one second, he thought he could pull Kyle free.
Then the chain jerked backward.
Kyle disappeared into the darkness.
His scream lasted only a few seconds.
Then there was silence.
Fiona stared at Craig.
"Run."
They ran.
They found Vern in the hallway.
He was standing in front of one of the paintings.
Only now he wasn't admiring it.
He was staring at the wall.
"Vern!"
He slowly turned.
His eyes were completely black.
Craig stopped.
Vern smiled.
It wasn't his normal smile.
"Craig."
His voice sounded wrong.
Two voices seemed to be speaking through him.
"You're going to have so much fun."
Fiona grabbed Craig's arm.
"That's not Vern."
Vern laughed.
Then he charged.
Craig and Fiona ran.
They heard something crash behind them.
Vern's laughter echoed through the hallway.
Then another sound joined it.
A distant, horrible moaning.
Something else was moving through the house.
They found Lacey near the kitchen.
She was crying.
"I heard screaming."
Craig grabbed her.
"We have to get out."
They ran toward the front door.
It wouldn't open.
Craig pulled harder.
Nothing.
Then Vern appeared at the end of the hallway.
His body moved strangely, like his bones weren't quite connected correctly.
Lacey screamed.
Vern attacked.
Craig shoved Lacey aside.
Fiona grabbed a heavy brass candlestick and struck Vern across the head.
He barely reacted.
Lacey ran.
Vern followed.
Craig heard her scream from another room.
Then silence.
Craig stood frozen.
Fiona grabbed his hand.
"Craig, move!"
They ran.
They finally reached the library.
Craig slammed the door behind them.
Fiona pushed a bookcase against it.
"What happened to Vern?"
"I don't know."
"And Lacey?"
Craig couldn't answer.
Something slammed against the door.
The bookcase shook.
Fiona began crying.
Craig looked at the ancient book sitting on the table.
"This is all because of that."
"Yes."
He opened it.
The pages were moving by themselves.
One page stopped.
There was a drawing of the puzzle box.
Underneath it were symbols.
Fiona read them.
"There's another passage."
"What does it say?"
She translated slowly.
"It says the box opens a door between worlds."
"Can we close it?"
"Maybe."
"How?"
Fiona turned the page.
Her face went pale.
"We have to reverse the configuration."
"How?"
She looked at the box.
"The same way it was opened."
Craig understood.
They had to manipulate the puzzle box again.
But the box wasn't on the table.
It was still in the hands of the sculpture.
The library door exploded inward.
Vern stood there.
His mouth was stretched into a horrible grin.
Behind him stood the two pale figures.
Craig grabbed the book.
Fiona grabbed the puzzle box.
Vern lunged.
Craig threw the book at him.
Vern caught it.
For a moment, the possessed Vern stared down at it.
Then the book opened.
Something seemed to pour out of its pages.
Vern screamed.
The two voices inside him screamed too.
His body jerked violently.
Then he collapsed.
Fiona ran to the sculpture.
She placed the box into the stone hands.
"Turn it!"
Craig grabbed the mechanism.
Click.
Nothing.
He turned it again.
Click.
The tall figure with the pins in its head approached.
"Wait!" Craig shouted.
It stopped.
Craig didn't know why.
Maybe it was listening.
# The Uncle's Inheritance
Craig had never been particularly close to his great uncle.
That wasn't really anyone's fault. His great uncle, Arthur Vale, had lived most of his life traveling around the world, buying strange things and apparently making a lot of money. Craig had met him exactly once, when he was six years old. Craig barely remembered the meeting. He remembered a tall, serious-looking man with a silver beard, a heavy gold ring, and an old scar running across one side of his face.
Then Arthur disappeared back into his strange life.
Craig's parents divorced when he was young, and he had grown up going between his mother's house and his father's apartment. His life in Towson, Maryland, was pretty ordinary. Middle-class neighborhood, public schools, part-time jobs, friends, and now, at eighteen, the nervous excitement of getting ready to start university.
Then, two weeks before he was supposed to leave, his father handed him an envelope.
"Apparently, your great uncle died," his father said.
Craig looked up.
"Great uncle Arthur?"
"That's the one."
"I thought he was already dead."
His father gave him a strange look.
"No. Not until last week."
Inside the envelope was a handwritten note.
Arthur had apparently left Craig something.
Not just something small, either.
According to the note, Arthur had owned a large estate in rural Maine. He had accumulated valuable paintings, antiques, books, jewelry, and archaeological artifacts over several decades. Some of his debts would have to be paid from the estate, but there would still be a substantial amount left.
Craig couldn't believe his luck.
Then there was the puzzle box.
The note explained that the box was centuries old and extremely valuable. But it was only one part of a larger object. The rest of the object was a sculpture depicting a tortured prisoner, his body twisted as he begged for mercy. The prisoner's hands were extended outward as though waiting to receive something.
The puzzle box.
There was also supposed to be an ancient book.
Arthur wanted Craig to have the entire collection.
There was only one problem.
The auditors were coming.
Craig had to get to the house and retrieve the collection before they arrived and inventoried everything.
Craig called his friends that night.
Fiona was his girlfriend. She was petite, brunette, wore wire-frame glasses, and had hair that reached almost to her waist. She was the smartest person Craig knew and had an annoying habit of knowing things he didn't think anyone should know. She was especially good with languages, including Latin.
Lacey came along because she was Fiona's best friend. She was blonde, pretty, sweet, and always ready for an adventure. She wasn't quite as academically gifted as Fiona, but she had plenty of common sense.
Kyle had been Craig's friend since elementary school. He was thin, red-haired, and had a sarcastic sense of humor that usually got them both in trouble.
Vern was the newest member of the group. Craig had met him in gym class. Vern was tall, athletic, and confident, and he had a fascination with history, especially military history and ancient cultures.
Within three days, the five of them were driving north.
It was supposed to be a fun little getaway before university.
None of them expected to come home.
---
Arthur Vale's mansion sat at the end of a long dirt road surrounded by thick Maine forest.
The house was enormous.
It looked like something built by a man who had never heard the words "too much."
There were towers, balconies, carved stone figures, stained glass windows, and an enormous front door.
Inside, it was even stranger.
The mansion was basically a museum.
There were Egyptian statues, African masks, Japanese armor, Chinese carvings, Roman coins, paintings from Europe, weapons from the Middle East, South American pottery, and things none of them could identify.
Then they began noticing the other stuff.
There were paintings of executions.
Sculptures of people being tortured.
Drawings of corpses.
Masks depicting demons.
And some artwork that was clearly sexual.
Lacey stared at a painting for several seconds.
"Your uncle was a rich, eccentric perv."
Kyle nodded.
"That might be the nicest way to put it."
Vern, meanwhile, was fascinated.
"This sword is probably six hundred years old."
"Don't touch it," Craig said.
"I wasn't going to."
"You were absolutely going to."
They eventually found the sculpture.
It stood in a dark room behind a set of double doors.
The thing was enormous.
A stone figure was trapped inside a representation of a narrow prison cell. Its face was twisted in agony. Its mouth was open as though it had been screaming for centuries.
Its hands were stretched forward.
There was an obvious space between them.
Craig pulled out the puzzle box.
It fit perfectly.
At the bottom of the sculpture was another empty space.
"For the book," Fiona said.
She walked around the sculpture and examined the writing carved into its base.
"It's Latin."
"Can you read it?"
"Mostly."
She adjusted her glasses.
"It says something like... 'Read the lines from the Book of Beyond Life.'"
Craig frowned.
"Beyond life?"
"That's a strange translation."
"Meaning?"
"Afterlife would make more sense."
Nobody spoke for a moment.
Kyle finally said, "That's comforting."
Craig remembered something.
"The note."
He pulled out Arthur's letter.
Near the bottom was a strange string of numbers and letters.
They had assumed it was some kind of inventory code.
Then they found the library.
It contained thousands of books.
And a Dewey Decimal system.
Fiona stared at the code.
"Oh."
"What?"
"It's a library classification."
They spent nearly an hour searching.
Eventually, they found the book.
It was nothing like anything else in the library.
It was thick and ugly, bound in something that looked disturbingly like dried skin. Metal clasps held it shut. Strange symbols had been carved into the cover. A face seemed to be worked into the leather, its mouth pulled open in a permanent silent scream.
Lacey took one look.
"Nope."
Craig picked it up.
"That's definitely the book."
They returned to the sculpture.
Fiona studied everything.
"The inscription says to read from the Book of Beyond Life. The box goes here."
She pointed at the sculpture's hands.
"And the book goes here."
She pointed to the empty space at the base.
Craig looked at Kyle.
"Well?"
Kyle shrugged.
"We came all this way."
Fiona hesitated.
"Maybe we shouldn't."
Craig smiled.
"Come on. We're just reading a book."
That was when Lacey said she needed the bathroom.
"I'll be back."
Vern stayed behind, examining one of the paintings of a medieval execution.
Craig, Fiona, and Kyle remained with the sculpture.
Fiona opened the book.
The pages were covered in strange writing and crude drawings.
She began reading aloud.
At first, nothing happened.
Then the wind started.
It came from nowhere.
The mansion had been sealed for weeks, yet suddenly the room filled with a powerful freezing draft.
"Where's that coming from?" Kyle shouted.
The pages began flipping.
Fiona tried to hold the book open.
She couldn't.
The pages whipped back and forth faster and faster.
Then the book slammed shut.
The puzzle box moved.
Craig froze.
The stone hands of the sculpture had wrapped around it.
But they weren't supposed to move.
The fingers began twisting the box.
Click.
Click.
Click.
Craig backed away.
"Fiona?"
"I didn't do that."
Another click.
The box opened.
The sound was small.
Almost delicate.
But something changed in the room.
The air became heavy.
A smell like burning metal filled Craig's nose.
The sculpture split open.
A thin black crack appeared in the air behind it.
Then the crack widened.
Something stepped through.
It was tall and unnaturally thin, dressed in black leather. Its pale head was completely hairless, and a pattern of metal pins ran across its face and scalp.
It looked at Craig.
Not with anger.
With interest.
Another figure followed.
This one was taller and broader, dressed in a dark, elaborate outfit. Its face was pale and almost corpse-like. Several chains hung from its body, and tiny metal hooks moved slightly as though they were alive.
Kyle whispered, "What the hell?"
The first figure raised one hand.
A chain shot forward.
It wrapped around Kyle's ankle.
Craig grabbed him.
The chain tightened.
Kyle screamed.
Craig held on.
For one second, he thought he could pull Kyle free.
Then the chain jerked backward.
Kyle disappeared into the darkness.
His scream lasted only a few seconds.
Then there was silence.
Fiona stared at Craig.
"Run."
They ran.
---
They found Vern in the hallway.
He was standing in front of one of the paintings.
Only now he wasn't admiring it.
He was staring at the wall.
"Vern!"
He slowly turned.
His eyes were completely black.
Craig stopped.
Vern smiled.
It wasn't his normal smile.
"Craig."
His voice sounded wrong.
Two voices seemed to be speaking through him.
"You're going to have so much fun."
Fiona grabbed Craig's arm.
"That's not Vern."
Vern laughed.
Then he charged.
Craig and Fiona ran.
They heard something crash behind them.
Vern's laughter echoed through the hallway.
Then another sound joined it.
A distant, horrible moaning.
Something else was moving through the house.
---
They found Lacey near the kitchen.
She was crying.
"I heard screaming."
Craig grabbed her.
"We have to get out."
They ran toward the front door.
It wouldn't open.
Craig pulled harder.
Nothing.
Then Vern appeared at the end of the hallway.
His body moved strangely, like his bones weren't quite connected correctly.
Lacey screamed.
Vern attacked.
Craig shoved Lacey aside.
Fiona grabbed a heavy brass candlestick and struck Vern across the head.
He barely reacted.
Lacey ran.
Vern followed.
Craig heard her scream from another room.
Then silence.
Craig stood frozen.
Fiona grabbed his hand.
"Craig, move!"
They ran.
---
They finally reached the library.
Craig slammed the door behind them.
Fiona pushed a bookcase against it.
"What happened to Vern?"
"I don't know."
"And Lacey?"
Craig couldn't answer.
Something slammed against the door.
The bookcase shook.
Fiona began crying.
Craig looked at the ancient book sitting on the table.
"This is all because of that."
"Yes."
He opened it.
The pages were moving by themselves.
One page stopped.
There was a drawing of the puzzle box.
Underneath it were symbols.
Fiona read them.
"There's another passage."
"What does it say?"
She translated slowly.
"It says the box opens a door between worlds."
"Can we close it?"
"Maybe."
"How?"
Fiona turned the page.
Her face went pale.
"We have to reverse the configuration."
"How?"
She looked at the box.
"The same way it was opened."
Craig understood.
They had to manipulate the puzzle box again.
But the box wasn't on the table.
It was still in the hands of the sculpture.
The library door exploded inward.
Vern stood there.
His mouth was stretched into a horrible grin.
Behind him stood the two pale figures.
Craig grabbed the book.
Fiona grabbed the puzzle box.
Vern lunged.
Craig threw the book at him.
Vern caught it.
For a moment, the possessed Vern stared down at it.
Then the book opened.
Something seemed to pour out of its pages.
Vern screamed.
The two voices inside him screamed too.
His body jerked violently.
Then he collapsed.
Fiona ran to the sculpture.
She placed the box into the stone hands.
"Turn it!"
Craig grabbed the mechanism.
Click.
Nothing.
He turned it again.
Click.
The tall figure with the pins in its head approached.
"Wait!" Craig shouted.
It stopped.
Craig didn't know why.
Maybe it was listening.
Maybe it was simply curious.
He turned the box again.
Click.
The room shook.
The second figure stepped forward.
Craig turned the final piece.
The box snapped shut.
The black crack in the air began closing.
The two figures were pulled backward.
One of them reached toward Craig.
Then both disappeared.
The mansion became completely silent.
Craig collapsed onto the floor.
Fiona sat beside him.
For several seconds, neither spoke.
Then someone began applauding.
Slowly.
Calmly.
From the doorway.
Arthur Vale walked into the library.
Craig stared at him.
His great uncle looked exactly as he remembered him.
Except he wasn't dead.
"You."
Arthur smiled.
"Hello, Craig."
Fiona stood.
"You faked your death."
"Of course."
Craig could barely speak.
"You sent the letter."
"I did."
"The auditors?"
"There are no auditors."
Arthur walked toward them.
"You were never supposed to survive the ritual."
Craig stared at him.
"What ritual?"
Arthur looked almost amused.
"For most of my life, I studied the occult. I traveled the world looking for knowledge that civilized people pretend doesn't exist."
He gestured toward the book.
"That book contains knowledge about one kind of power. The puzzle box contains another."
He smiled.
"I discovered something wonderful."
Fiona shook her head.
"You wanted us here."
"Yes."
"You knew what would happen."
"I knew what could happen."
Craig's stomach turned.
"The people who came through the box..."
"Are beings from another realm. The dead things summoned by the book are from somewhere else entirely."
Arthur's smile widened.
"Two different worlds. Two different forms of supernatural power."
He stepped closer.
"The legends say that a sacrifice of young blood, combined with the opening of both gateways, can grant the summoner eternal life."
Craig stared at him.
"And wisdom."
"Yes."
Arthur looked almost like a child talking about a new toy.
"I have spent fifty years searching for the secret."
Fiona whispered, "You murdered your own family."
Arthur shrugged.
"Family is a temporary thing."
Craig looked at the blood on his hands.
Kyle.
Lacey.
Vern.
All because of this man.
"You could have just given me the money."
Arthur laughed.
"You still don't understand."
He picked up the book.
"I don't want money."
Something moved behind him.
Arthur turned.
The first pale figure stood in the doorway.
The one with the pins.
Arthur smiled.
"At last."
The figure looked at him.
Then it looked at the book.
Then at the puzzle box.
Arthur waited.
Nothing happened.
"Do it," he said.
The figure tilted its head.
Arthur became nervous.
"I completed the ritual."
The second figure appeared behind him.
Arthur stepped backward.
"Give me what I was promised."
The first figure slowly raised one hand.
A chain emerged from the darkness.
Arthur's face changed.
"No."
The chain wrapped around his wrist.
He screamed.
Craig and Fiona watched as Arthur was dragged toward the opening.
"No! I summoned you!"
The figure with the pins stared at him.
Its expression never changed.
Arthur's feet left the floor.
"Craig!"
Craig didn't move.
"Help me!"
Craig stared at the man who had deliberately sent him and his friends into this house to die.
"No."
Arthur disappeared into the darkness.
The opening began to close.
For one final moment, Craig saw his great uncle hanging between two worlds.
Then the darkness swallowed him.
The book slammed shut.
The puzzle box fell from the sculpture's hands.
And everything stopped.
---
Craig and Fiona remained in the library until morning.
They found Vern unconscious but alive.
The possession had ended when the book was closed.
Kyle and Lacey were gone.
There was no saving them.
Craig would carry that for the rest of his life.
Before leaving, Fiona carefully wrapped the ancient book in a blanket.
"What are you doing?"
Craig asked.
She looked at him.
"Destroying it."
Craig stared at the book.
After everything that had happened, he didn't disagree.
They carried it outside.
Craig poured gasoline over it.
Fiona struck a match.
The book caught fire.
For a moment, the flames burned normally.
Then something inside the book screamed.
Craig and Fiona stepped backward.
The cover twisted.
The strange face worked into the leather seemed to open its mouth.
Then the entire thing collapsed into ash.
Craig looked toward the mansion.
The sculpture was still visible through the library window.
Its hands were empty.
The puzzle box sat on the floor.
Craig picked it up.
Fiona watched him.
"Don't."
Craig nodded.
He threw it into the fire.
The flames suddenly turned black.
Then they went out.
Neither of them spoke.
By sunrise, the mansion was silent.
Arthur Vale was officially still dead.
There would be no inheritance.
No fortune.
No great family secret.
Just a ruined house, three dead friends, and a story nobody would probably believe.
Craig returned to Towson a few days later.
University was still waiting for him.
Life was still waiting for him.
But sometimes, late at night, he would remember the sound of the puzzle box clicking.
And somewhere far away, in a place no human being was supposed to see, Craig imagined two pale figures standing silently in the dark.
Waiting.
Listening.
And holding a grudge against the man who had opened the door.
Click.
The room shook.
The second figure stepped forward.
Craig turned the final piece.
The box snapped shut.
The black crack in the air began closing.
The two figures were pulled backward.
One of them reached toward Craig.
Then both disappeared.
The mansion became completely silent.
Craig collapsed onto the floor.
Fiona sat beside him.
For several seconds, neither spoke.
Then someone began applauding.
Slowly.
Calmly.
From the doorway.
Arthur Vale walked into the library.
Craig stared at him.
His great uncle looked exactly as he remembered him.
Except he wasn't dead.
"You."
Arthur smiled.
"Hello, Craig."
Fiona stood.
"You faked your death."
"Of course."
Craig could barely speak.
"You sent the letter."
"I did."
"The auditors?"
"There are no auditors."
Arthur walked toward them.
"You were never supposed to survive the ritual."
Craig stared at him.
"What ritual?"
Arthur looked almost amused.
"For most of my life, I studied the occult. I traveled the world looking for knowledge that civilized people pretend doesn't exist."
He gestured toward the book.
"That book contains knowledge about one kind of power. The puzzle box contains another."
He smiled.
"I discovered something wonderful."
Fiona shook her head.
"You wanted us here."
"Yes."
"You knew what would happen."
"I knew what could happen."
Craig's stomach turned.
"The people who came through the box..."
"Are beings from another realm. The dead things summoned by the book are from somewhere else entirely."
Arthur's smile widened.
"Two different worlds. Two different forms of supernatural power."
He stepped closer.
"The legends say that a sacrifice of young blood, combined with the opening of both gateways, can grant the summoner eternal life."
Craig stared at him.
"And wisdom."
"Yes."
Arthur looked almost like a child talking about a new toy.
"I have spent fifty years searching for the secret."
Fiona whispered, "You murdered your own family."
Arthur shrugged.
"Family is a temporary thing."
Craig looked at the blood on his hands.
Kyle.
Lacey.
Vern.
All because of this man.
"You could have just given me the money."
Arthur laughed.
"You still don't understand."
He picked up the book.
"I don't want money."
Something moved behind him.
Arthur turned.
The first pale figure stood in the doorway.
The one with the pins.
Arthur smiled.
"At last."
The figure looked at him.
Then it looked at the book.
Then at the puzzle box.
Arthur waited.
Nothing happened.
"Do it," he said.
The figure tilted its head.
Arthur became nervous.
"I completed the ritual."
The second figure appeared behind him.
Arthur stepped backward.
"Give me what I was promised."
The first figure slowly raised one hand.
A chain emerged from the darkness.
Arthur's face changed.
"No."
The chain wrapped around his wrist.
He screamed.
Craig and Fiona watched as Arthur was dragged toward the opening.
"No! I summoned you!"
The figure with the pins stared at him.
Its expression never changed.
Arthur's feet left the floor.
"Craig!"
Craig didn't move.
"Help me!"
Craig stared at the man who had deliberately sent him and his friends into this house to die.
"No."
Arthur disappeared into the darkness.
The opening began to close.
For one final moment, Craig saw his great uncle hanging between two worlds.
Then the darkness swallowed him.
The book slammed shut.
The puzzle box fell from the sculpture's hands.
And everything stopped.
Craig and Fiona remained in the library until morning.
They found Vern unconscious but alive.
The possession had ended when the book was closed.
Kyle and Lacey were gone.
There was no saving them.
Craig would carry that for the rest of his life.
Before leaving, Fiona carefully wrapped the ancient book in a blanket.
"What are you doing?"
Craig asked.
She looked at him.
"Destroying it."
Craig stared at the book.
After everything that had happened, he didn't disagree.
They carried it outside.
Craig poured gasoline over it.
Fiona struck a match.
The book caught fire.
For a moment, the flames burned normally.
Then something inside the book screamed.
Craig and Fiona stepped backward.
The cover twisted.
The strange face worked into the leather seemed to open its mouth.
Then the entire thing collapsed into ash.
Craig looked toward the mansion.
The sculpture was still visible through the library window.
Its hands were empty.
The puzzle box sat on the floor.
Craig picked it up.
Fiona watched him.
"Don't."
Craig nodded.
He threw it into the fire.
The flames suddenly turned black.
Then they went out.
Neither of them spoke.
By sunrise, the mansion was silent.
Arthur Vale was officially still dead.
There would be no inheritance.
No fortune.
No great family secret.
Just a ruined house, three dead friends, and a story nobody would probably believe.
Craig returned to Towson a few days later.
University was still waiting for him.
Life was still waiting for him.
But sometimes, late at night, he would remember the sound of the puzzle box clicking.
And somewhere far away, in a place no human being was supposed to see, Craig imagined two pale figures standing silently in the dark.
Waiting.
Listening.
And holding a grudge against the man who had opened the door.
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