I’d pulled the heavy curtains tight across my windows, letting only a thin sliver of streetlight cut through the darkness of my apartment. The blue glow from my laptop screen painted ghoulish shadows across the walls, making the familiar corners of my living room feel alien and watchful. Hours of security footage had left my eyes burning, but I couldn’t look away. Not now. Not when something in the grainy green-tinted video had finally caught my attention.
The timestamp read 11:43 PM, December 10th—five days before Seamus Green drew his final breath. I’d been working backward through the recordings, a methodical archaeological dig through digital time. The USB drive Summer had provided sat plugged into my laptop, innocuous in appearance but heavy with secrets. Most of what I’d seen was mundane: staff members dusting ornate picture frames, the occasional family member dropping by with plastic smiles and brief embraces, Seamus himself making his slow pilgrimages through his mansion with an ebony cane that looked like it had survived several generations of Greens before him.65Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡiqwU9nXqzA
But this—this was different.65Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡJwlEghMusb
“What is she doing?” Mister B. materialized beside me, his voice unusually tight. I’d grown accustomed to his acerbic commentary, his spiritual presence that flickered at the edges of my awareness. But now, I could feel the shift in his energy, concern rippling through the air between us.
On screen, Aurelia Green slipped into the vast living room, her neck craned as she glanced repeatedly over her shoulder. The night-vision mode rendered everything in sickly shades of green, but even through the ghostly filter, I could see this wasn’t the Aurelia from the pictures in the magazines. Gone were the tailored designer clothes and perfect accessories. Instead, she wore dark, practical clothing that seemed deliberately chosen to avoid notice. More striking were the two black sports bags clutched in her manicured hands, their utilitarian ugliness at odds with everything I knew about the woman.65Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡNfDaA0Fvhj
“Those bags don’t belong to her,” I whispered, leaning closer to the screen.65Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡIcVAN5rL9b
“No,” Mister B. agreed, his form shifting slightly as he moved to get a better look. “They’re deliberate. Purchased for this purpose.”65Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡHXPs344aiY
I watched as Aurelia set the bags down with surprising care. She moved to the center of the room where an enormous oriental rug—likely worth more than my yearly income—covered the gleaming hardwood floor. With surprising strength for her slender frame, she pushed aside a massive coffee table that looked like it had been carved from a single piece of mahogany. The night vision camera captured the strain in her face, the determined set of her jaw.
Once the table was cleared, she bent down and began rolling back the rug, revealing the polished floor beneath. My pulse quickened. There was something furtive, almost predatory in her movements.65Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ2uSgWq8IQt
“Is she looking for something hidden under there?” I murmured, more to myself than to Mister B.65Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ2nM7mdYzaN
The footage had no audio, but the silence made the scene more disturbing somehow, like watching a prehistoric animal through bulletproof glass.65Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ0iZGLgrzOa
From one bag’s side pocket, Aurelia removed what looked like a thick piece of chalk, red even through the green-tinted filter. She knelt on the exposed floor and began drawing with precise, practiced motions. Not random marks—a deliberate pattern. A cross, large enough to cover several feet of the floor.65Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡkE8kx8BBIV
“This isn’t amateur work,” Mister B. observed quietly beside me. His usual sarcasm had evaporated, replaced by a watchfulness that made my skin prickle.65Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ10nlFaigNQ
“Oh, babygirl, this is bad business,” Ma’s voice joined us, heavy with concern. I hadn’t called for her, but she’d appeared anyway, drawn perhaps by the darkness unfolding on my screen. “Real bad business.”65Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡUxjcVwpQES
I said nothing, my attention fixed on Aurelia’s methodical preparations. She worked with the confidence of experience, setting three ornate candleholders in a half-circle at the top of the chalk cross. From the side pockets of the sports bags, she withdrew candles—I could make out red, white, and black—along with small bottles of liquid and plastic bags containing various powders.65Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡAr1NvNvl1J
“She’s dressing the candles,” I whispered, recognizing the technique from my own work. “Anointing them for specific purposes.”65Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡZTtUyw8i5f
On screen, Aurelia coated each candle with oils and powders, her mouth moving in what I assumed were incantations. She placed them with deliberate care—one red candle in the center, flanked by two white candles. My stomach tightened. The configuration was specific, intentional.65Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡEgUF2f8XKD
What came next made my breath catch in my throat. From the larger sports bag, Aurelia carefully removed three human skulls. Not plastic Halloween decorations or medical replicas. The real thing. Even through the green-tinted night vision, I could see the aged patina of genuine bone, the irregular textures that no manufactured copy could properly mimic.65Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡQP9iQ9wXTi
“Those aren’t anatomical specimens,” Mister B. said, his voice tight. “They’ve been prepared.”65Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡwtUXaO6g8b
“For ritual use,” I confirmed, a chill spreading through my chest. “This is dark magic. Serious work.”65Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡW6SH3MpQQ4
I watched, unable to look away, as Aurelia placed the skulls in a specific configuration before the candleholders. With practiced movements, she lit the first black candle, waited for the wax to pool, then used it to secure the candle atop the left skull. She repeated the process with the remaining two skulls.65Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡkqiX2RWMeV
“She knows what she’s doing,” Grandpa’s voice joined the chorus of spirits gathering around me. His usually gentle tone had hardened, like river water freezing at the first winter frost. “This is dangerous magic.”65Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ99uVaghj3x
“Not just dangerous,” Auntie added, her typically business-like demeanor giving way to genuine alarm. “This is death work.”65Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡWi4E4jsAJC
I nodded slightly, my eyes never leaving the screen. The ritual continued with methodical precision. Aurelia produced a bottle of rum and four glasses, placing one before each skull and one before the red candle. She filled each with the amber liquid, her movements deliberate and exact. The care she took made what followed all the more horrifying.
From the second sports bag, Aurelia withdrew a live chicken, its wings bound with what looked like twine. My stomach lurched. I knew what was coming next, but that knowledge didn’t ease the sickness rising in my throat.65Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡu177dsYBe4
With a swift, practiced motion, she slaughtered the bird. The night vision camera captured the spray of blood, turned black in the green filter. Aurelia collected the blood in a small bowl, then methodically spread it over the skulls, the candleholders, and the floor itself.65Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡu6UA9HkQz0
“Blood sacrifice,” I whispered, my voice thin in the darkness of my apartment. “She’s sealing the ritual.”65Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡVJSWUX1Epk
On screen, Aurelia placed the chicken’s remains before the skulls, a final offering to complete the configuration. Then she took a mouthful of rum, spraying it over the entire arrangement in a fine mist. She repeated this three times—a ritual offering to whatever entities she was invoking.65Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ1qohSIM50o
When the ceremony was complete, Aurelia began cleaning up, but not entirely. She removed the candleholders, skulls, and other larger items, returning them to the sports bags. But deliberately, unmistakably, she left the chalk cross, the blood, and the rum-soaked powders on the floor before carefully replacing the rug and moving the coffee table back to its original position.65Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡrcc5zzBsPA
“She’s sealing it in,” Ma said, her voice hollow with dread. “Trapping the energy under that rug.”65Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡDKWUiCqnoB
“Directly beneath where Seamus would sit each day,” Mister B. added grimly.65Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡDmigFqLW9N
The recording showed Aurelia gathering her bags and slipping from the room, leaving no visible trace of the dark ceremony she’d performed. I paused the footage, my hands shaking slightly. The implications crashed over me like a wave of icy water.65Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡbq8ZND7HQt
This was no harmless exploration of alternative spirituality. This was targeted, malevolent magic—performed in secret, in Seamus’s own home, just days before his death. A working designed to kill.65Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡmiJ2rftDRU
“This is what Seamus’s tarot reader sensed,” I said quietly. “Death in the house.”65Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡIKUyBRmvtD
“Not just death,” Grandpa corrected, his presence a solemn weight beside me. “Murder. By magical means.”65Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡuAoXHRM4kn
“We need to find that reader,” Mister B. said. “Immediately.”65Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡHtytVsUUuL
I reached for my phone, already scrolling to Jason’s contact. The conversation with Summer, the video will, and now this footage—everything pointed to a sinister truth that conventional authorities would never believe, let alone investigate.65Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡHrhWxYTWAY
But I would. Because now I knew: Seamus Green hadn’t simply died. He’d been killed.65Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡpPZMJwwED6
I stared at the frozen image on my screen, the green-tinged moment capturing Aurelia Green’s exit after her ritual. My finger hovered over Jason’s name in my contacts. The connection between what I’d just witnessed and the old man’s death was undeniable—a murder weapon crafted from chalk, blood, and malice, hidden beneath an antique rug where its victim would sit day after day, absorbing the poisonous energy until his heart finally gave out.65Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡHw3zPUEy4M
The cold certainty settled in my chest. I needed to call Jason. I needed to find the tarot reader. And most importantly, I needed to stop Aurelia Green before she realized I knew what she’d done.
65Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡCXPBgfiDNi
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