Chapter 6
The unseen voice hung in the air, thick with a familiar, terrifying resonance that made Chloe’s breath hitch in her chest. She strained her eyes against the impenetrable blackness of the hallway, trying to discern a silhouette against the faint ambient glow leaking through the slatted blinds of the front room.
"Who's there?" Mark called out, his voice steady despite the tension rigidifying every muscle in his back. He reached out blindly, his hand searching the console table for anything heavy enough to use as a makeshift weapon. "Show yourself or I swear to God I'll—"
"You'll what, boy?" the voice interrupted, dripping with casual disdain. A heavy pair of boots scraped slowly against the hardwood floor, inching closer with agonizing deliberation. "Call Officer Miller back? Tell her the mess she tried to sweep under the rug is spilling out onto the floorboards?"
A sudden flash of lightning illuminated the sky outside, casting a jagged, momentary glare through the living room windows. In that split-second flash of electric white light, Chloe saw him. A tall, gaunt man in a worn trench coat stood right at the threshold of the hallway, his face half-concealed by the wide brim of a fedora. His eyes—pale, cold, and unnervingly familiar—locked directly onto Chloe before the light vanished, plunging them back into total darkness.
"Uncle Thomas?" Chloe gasped, her knees nearly buckling beneath her. The name slipped out like a forbidden curse, a ghost stepping out of a family tragedy long buried beneath official lies.
Thomas let out another low, rattling laugh that echoed off the narrow walls. "Good memory, little niece. Though I suppose it's hard to forget the man your mother and the department conspired to erase from the family tree twenty years ago."
May you like
Mark stiffened beside Chloe, his arm pressing back to keep her safely behind him. "You’re supposed to be dead. The state records list you as deceased in a correctional facility fire up north."
"Paperwork is such a fragile thing, Mark," Thomas replied, his footsteps drawing closer still, the sound of leather hitting wood sending shudders down Chloe's spine. "Just ask your dear friend Officer Miller. She signed the very same cremation authorization form that kept me hidden in the dark all these years."
