Blackthorn Eternal Bind

Ghost Unveiled

Ellen spun toward Luke's voice. Her flashlight beam shook wildly in the shed shadows. Her heart slammed with terror. The rune-scratched bone gleamed damning in the dirt. "Who are you?" she gasped. "Who is that?" Her finger jabbed at the bones accusingly.

Luke stepped forward slowly. His gray eyes held an ancient storm. Chestnut waves framed his face too perfectly. "Ellen, I think you already know."

Fear iced her veins. Cold skin. Dreams. Echoes. She bolted past him. Her shoulder clipped his chill frame. The door banged open. Gravel flew under her frantic feet. The manor loomed as salvation. She burst inside. The kitchen stood empty. She gasped for ragged air—

He stood there already. His gray eyes locked calm. There was no trace of entry. It was a ghostly instant.

She screamed shrilly. She dashed upstairs. Her feet pounded the turret stairs. The bedroom door slammed shut. She locked it tight. Her chest heaved hard. Hallucination? She turned around slowly—

He was already in the room. He stood unmoved by the locked door. "Ellen, please. I will not hurt you."

"How are you here?" she choked out. She backed to the window. Waves roared black below. "You were just outside. I don't understand!"

"Yes, you do." His voice softened eternally. His cool hand raised in peace. "You know. You just won't admit it to yourself. Ellen, I came to you every night in your dreams."

Realization crashed over her. Dreams bled into reality. Gala touches felt real now. Cold fire burned true. The betrayal echo matched exactly. The shed argument replayed. His bones lay rune-etched. Luke's face dissolved into Lorian seamlessly. "How are you dead? You are Lorian Blackthorn."

His gray eyes softened raw. The pocket watch whirred alive. The rune glowed with bind. "Yes. I am."

The manor shuddered deep. Frost etched the windows to 1905. Waves silenced outside. Truth hung eternal.