Eliza Ward stood at the edge of the overgrown yard, her fingers curling around the worn straps of her backpack, the weight of the moment settling deep in her bones. Ravenswood. A name she'd never heard until a few weeks ago, but now it was theirs—her family's new home, their fresh start, or so her parents insisted. They always said that, but Eliza knew better. A fresh start was nothing but a temporary lie.
Her younger sister, Grace, skipped ahead, already bouncing between the tall, swaying grass, carefree and innocent, unaware of the shadows trailing them. Eliza couldn't shake the feeling that something was waiting for them in this town, something darker than the usual ghosts that had haunted them for years.
"Come on, Eliza!" Grace called out, her voice carrying in the quiet afternoon air.
Eliza forced a smile, but it didn't reach her eyes. "Coming," she said, though her gaze remained locked on the house before her. It was an old Victorian, towering above them with its peeling paint and crooked windows, the kind of house that felt like it had been forgotten by time itself.
Behind her, the sound of a car door slamming made her turn. Her older brother, Caleb, emerged from the car, rubbing his temples. He looked tired—more than usual. Eliza's heart tightened. Caleb was never one to show weakness, but there was something in the way he carried himself today that told her he was fighting against something far deeper than exhaustion.
"You alright?" she asked, crossing the cracked pavement toward him.
Caleb gave her a tight-lipped smile, the kind that didn't reassure anyone. "I'm fine. Just tired from the drive."
She didn't buy it. She never did, not when it came to Caleb. He was the one who always held things together, the glue keeping their family from falling apart. But she could see the cracks now, the way his eyes darted nervously toward the house as though something inside it was calling to him.
"Where's Lucas?" Eliza asked, glancing toward the car. Their older brother, Lucas, should have been the first to get out. But the car door remained closed.
"Still inside," Caleb muttered, his tone darkening. "He's not… he's not right, Eliza."
A chill ran down her spine. She knew Lucas had been off for weeks now, ever since they left the last town. He'd been distant, quiet, and whenever he did speak, there was an edge to his voice that unsettled her. She didn't want to admit it, but she feared that the darkness that had chased them for years had finally caught up to him.
Her parents had tried to reassure her that it was just stress, that Lucas would bounce back. But Eliza had seen how his eyes sometimes glowed with a strange intensity, how his laughter was hollow, as if it wasn't really his own.
"I'll go check on him," Eliza said, her voice barely above a whisper.
Caleb nodded, his lips pressed into a thin line. "Be careful."
Eliza's feet moved on their own, the weight of her brother's warning heavy in the air. The house loomed in front of her, casting a long shadow across the yard. The wind picked up, rustling the leaves in the trees, as if the house itself were breathing, waiting.
The door creaked open before she even had the chance to knock, revealing their mother standing in the doorway, her face pale and strained. "Eliza…" Her voice faltered. "It's Lucas. You need to talk to him."
Before Eliza could ask what that meant, her mother stepped aside, allowing her into the dimly lit hallway. The house was colder than it should have been, the air thick with an unsettling heaviness. She could smell the mustiness of old wood, a sharp contrast to the sweet scent of the flowers Grace had been picking just moments before.
"Where is he?" Eliza asked, her voice a little more than a whisper now.
Her mother motioned down the hall, her eyes averted, as if she were afraid to meet her daughter's gaze. Eliza didn't ask why; she just moved forward, her heart beating faster with each step. The silence in the house was suffocating, broken only by the occasional creak of the floorboards under her feet.
When she reached the door to Lucas's room, she paused. The door was slightly ajar, but she could feel a pull coming from within. It was as if the room itself was drawing her in, beckoning her to face what lay behind it.
With a slow, trembling hand, Eliza pushed the door open.
Lucas was sitting in the middle of his room, his back to her. His head was lowered, his dark hair falling around his face, hiding his expression. The air in the room felt wrong, charged with a strange energy, like the stillness before a storm.
"Eliza…" His voice was low, almost too soft to hear. "They're coming for us."
Her stomach twisted at the sound of his words. "Lucas, what are you talking about?"
He didn't answer, only turned his head slightly, enough for her to catch a glimpse of his eyes. But it wasn't Lucas's eyes anymore. They were cold, empty, as if someone else had taken control of his body.
Her breath hitched in her throat. No, she thought. Not now.
"Eliza," he whispered again, his voice almost… loving. "You can't save me. You never could."
Before she could respond, the door slammed shut behind her, and Eliza spun around, her heart racing. Caleb was standing in the hallway, his face pale, his hands clenched into fists.
"It's happening," he said, his voice tight. "It's finally happening."
The shadows in the house seemed to deepen, and Eliza's skin prickled with cold.
And then she understood. They had never been running from just people. They had been running from something much worse. Something that could never be outrun.