The footsteps grew louder, descending the staircase with agonizing slowness. Cece grabbed my arm, her nails digging into my skin. My heart pounded so loudly I was sure they could hear it.

And then they appeared.

Two figures, dressed exactly like the ones in the portrait. Black cloaks draped over their shoulders, their faces hidden behind plague doctor masks. One of them carried an axe, the blade glinting in the faint moonlight that filtered through the broken windows. The other held a rope.

“Why did you come back?” one of them said, their voice distorted and hollow.

Cece stepped forward, her voice trembling but firm. “Who are you? Why are you doing this?”

The figures didn’t respond. Instead, they removed their masks, and my world tilted.

It was my mom and my sister.

I staggered backward, shaking my head. “No. No, no, no. This isn’t real.”

My mom’s face crumpled with guilt. “Nyx... we didn’t want you to find out this way.”

“Find out what?” I screamed. “That you’re murderers? That you’ve been hiding this—this sickness from me my whole life?”

“It’s not what you think,” my sister said, her voice breaking. “We had no choice. The forest... it demands sacrifices. If we didn’t...” She trailed off, tears streaming down her face.

“That doesn’t justify this!” Cece yelled, her voice raw with fury. “You killed my family! You killed so many people!”

Before they could respond, the sound of sirens filled the air, cutting through the tension like a knife.

“I called the cops,” I said, my voice trembling. “It’s over.”

The sirens pierced through the suffocating silence, but they brought no comfort. The forest seemed to shudder as the agents stormed the house, their voices loud and commanding, shattering the unnatural stillness.

I stood frozen, my legs numb, my mind racing to comprehend what I had just seen. My mother and sister—my family—were dragged out in handcuffs, their faces pale and hollow under the harsh beams of flashlights.

“We didn’t have a choice!” my sister screamed, her voice cracking. “You don’t understand! It’s the forest! It... it needs us!”

Her words clawed at me, burrowing deep into my mind.

Cece stood beside me, her face expressionless, her eyes glued to the scene. I could feel her trembling, but she didn’t move, didn’t speak.

As the agents searched the house, they unearthed horrors I couldn’t bear to see. Bones, decayed clothing, remnants of lives that had ended too soon. The stench of death hung in the air, thicker and more suffocating with every passing moment.

And then they found the basement.

The agents emerged pale, shaken, their hands trembling as they carried out evidence—photographs, journals, and a ledger meticulously documenting the names of every victim.

“There are more,” one of the agents muttered, his voice barely audible over the chaos. “Dozens more. Maybe hundreds. The forest is full of them.”

The words hit me like a sledgehammer.