Jojo wants to hear the summary Sara prepared to describe the summary.
Sara began speaking, her tone clinical and chillingly smooth:
"Bathsheba Thorne Sherman. Born 1812. Died 1863."
"Suspected of witchcraft, infant murder, and Satanic rituals. Lived on a secluded farmland now known as the Perron property."
"Townspeople accused her of sacrificing her own child to the devil."
"Though never convicted, records indicate multiple infant deaths linked to the area while she was alive…"
Bathsheba Sherman's Past... 🕯️
Bathsheba Thorne was born in 1812, during one of the coldest winters in Rhode Island's history.
Her family, the Thornes, were known for their reclusive ways and strange rituals, often whispered about in the nearby village.
From a young age, Bathsheba was different—
sharp, quiet, and always watching.
Animals would grow restless in her presence.
Children cried if she drew near.
The townsfolk said she was cursed.
Or worse… blessed by something unholy.
She married Judah Sherman, a wealthy landowner, and moved into the old farmhouse that sat on cursed soil—
land that was said to have once been used for pagan rituals by an ancient cult.
Though the villagers congratulated the union, they secretly believed it was a mistake.
Darkness clung to her like a shadow that wouldn't fade.
Not long after her marriage, strange things began to happen.
Livestock died overnight.
Crops rotted without reason.
Visitors to the Sherman house often came back changed—jittery, paranoid, or sick. Some never came back at all.
Then came the infant.
Bathsheba gave birth to a baby boy.
But rumors began to spread that the baby had never been baptized—
that Bathsheba refused to take him to church.
When the child was just a few months old, tragedy struck.
The baby was found dead in his crib.
The cause? A puncture wound at the base of the skull.
The town was horrified.
A local physician claimed it looked like the wound was made with a knitting needle—
a tool often used by witches in ancient rites.
It was then that the townspeople began whispering of witchcraft.
Of devil-worship.
And of Bathsheba's true allegiance.
An investigation was held, but the evidence was inconclusive.
Bathsheba denied everything with cold detachment.
No charges were filed, but her name was forever tainted.
Her husband grew distant because even he believed his wife was the one who killed his son.
The servants quit one by one.
Soon, only Bathsheba remained in the farmhouse.
They said she began speaking to the walls.
Chanting in dead languages.
Carving runes into the floor with blood and ash.
She became obsessed with preserving her power—
declaring the land hers alone, and vowing that any who dared take it would suffer.
In 1863, on the night of a blood moon, she walked into the woods behind the house.
There, beneath the twisted branches of a dying tree, she hung herself, but not before delivering a curse with her final breath:
"This land is mine. My soul will guard it until the final sunsets. Let none claim what is mine… or face my wrath."
From that night forward, the land became marked.
Every family that moved into the house after her death suffered.
Suicides. Murders.
Children vanishing.
Screams in the night.
And always… the smell of rot.
The feeling of being watched.
The sound of a noose creaking in the dark.
Some say Bathsheba's spirit latched onto the land.
Others believe she became something far worse—
a demonic entity, feeding off fear, rage, and despair.
But all agree on one thing: Bathsheba Sherman never left.
Summary ends...
After the chilling summary from Sara, silence hung over the group like a heavy fog.
"____"
"____"
"____"
The air itself seemed colder.
Lorraine turned slowly toward Roger, her expression unreadable but her eyes sharp with disbelief.
"You didn't investigate the history of this house before moving your entire family in?"
she asked, her voice calm but laced with quiet accusation.
Roger shifted awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck, avoiding her gaze.
"I—I mean, we looked at the structure, the foundation, property value… I didn't think we needed to dig that deep."
He glanced at Carolyn, then back at Lorraine.
"I wasn't exactly the type who believed in ghosts, back then."
Lorraine arched an eyebrow.
"Back then?"
Roger gave a weak chuckle.
Chuckle~Â
"Let's just say I'm very much a believer now."
Jojo stepped in, patting Roger on the shoulder lightly.
"You're not the first to underestimate old houses with bad memories, Roger. But Bathsheba isn't just folklore. She feeds on disbelief. That's how she hides—until it's too late."
Carolyn looked visibly shaken.
"If she's that powerful… what does she want?"
Lorraine looked out the window toward the woods.
"To own the house. To possess. To destroy. Likely in that order."
Jojo nodded.
Nod~Â
"We'll have to find her anchor. There's always something—a cursed object, a ritual mark, something that ties her spirit here."
Freya added,
"And once we do, we burn it. Along with her grip on this place."
Leah chimed in from the corner, flipping through Sara's projected notes.
"We may want to cross-check burial records and property boundaries. If her remains are still here—"
Lorraine looked back at Roger and Carolyn.
"From now on, you don't enter this house unless one of us is with you. She knows you're vulnerable."
Carolyn nodded firmly.
Roger, still rattled, simply said,
"Got it."
Jojo looked around at the team.
"We've got work to do."
As the group started discussing the next steps,
Lorraine found herself pulled toward the gnarled, ancient tree standing alone on a small slope near the river.
Its twisted branches reached skyward like claws, and something about its presence unsettled her.
Her footsteps slowed as she neared, eyes narrowing at the oddly disturbed soil around its roots.
She crouched beside it, fingertips brushing across the earth—
something was wrong here. The tree reeked of an old, deep sorrow. It felt like a place where something ended… or began.
"____"
Jojo noticed her silence and the tense set of her shoulders.
"You feel something, don't you?"
he asked, stepping beside her.
Lorraine didn't look up.
"This tree… it's screaming."
Jojo's gaze narrowed, and he nodded slowly.
"If it gets out of hand, Lorraine—I'll end it myself."
She gave him a grateful glance, her lips tight in a nervous smile, then turned back toward the others.
But before she could take another step, something slammed into her face with a sickening, wet thud.
THUD.
Two rotting, decomposed legs dangled in front of her, twisted and bound as if from an old noose.
The stench of death struck her senses like a wave.
Lorraine's breath caught.
She slowly looked up—and there she was.
Bathsheba Sherman.
Her face, sunken and mummified, screamed with unnatural rage.
Blackened eyes burned with hatred, and a long tongue dangled from her cracked mouth like a serpent.
Lorraine stumbled backwards in horror, feet catching on the uneven slope.
She tumbled down, hitting the ground hard and rolling until she landed on the muddy shoreline of the nearby river.
Her breath was ragged, her heart racing—
but that was when she saw her.
A small body floating gently on the riverbank, her daughter's dress soaked and still.
"No… No, not her…"
Lorraine gasped, crawling forward on shaking hands and knees.
She reached out, fingers trembling—just inches away from her daughter's face.
And then, like a whisper caught in the breeze, the image dissolved into mist.
Gone.
Tears welled in Lorraine's eyes as the weight of guilt and fear crashed into her like a wave.
The moment Lorraine hit the ground near the riverbank, Jojo was already sprinting towards her.
He reached her in seconds, the sight of her wide, glassy eyes and trembling fingers reaching toward nothing made him quiet.
"Lorraine!"
he called, crouching beside her.
She didn't respond.
Her gaze was unfocused, locked on something only she could see.
Without hesitation, Jojo reached out and pulled her away from the water, cradling her protectively as he activated his ability—
X-Ray Vision, as he'd coined it immediately his blue eyes turned into silver ones.
The moment it activated, the world around him shifted.
Everything dulled into a muted grayscale—
trees, water, rocks, and people all faded into dim outlines.
Only supernatural energy stood out in stark, vivid detail, glowing like embers in the dark.
And then he saw it.
A thick, shadowy mist clung to Lorraine's head—
coiling like smoke from an unseen fire, pulsing with sinister intent.
It wasn't just haunting her—
it was invading her thoughts, feeding on her grief and vulnerability.
"Get yourself together,"
Jojo muttered under his breath while he let out a hot steam breath from his mouth on her face.
The mist recoiled and hissed like something wounded, then evaporated into nothingness.
Lorraine blinked—
slowly at first—
then gasped and looked around in confusion, her breathing heavy.
"My daughter…"
she whispered.
"I saw her… in the water…"
"It wasn't real,"
Jojo said softly, helping her to sit up.
"That thing… It made you see what would break you. But you're back now."
Lorraine looked at him, her face pale, but her eyes slowly sharpening.
She nodded, slowly at first, then with resolve.
"Thank you, Jojo…"
Jojo gave her a reassuring smile, but his voice carried weight.
"Bathsheba tried to get inside your head. And if she tried it with you, she'll do worse to the Perron family."
"We can't wait anymore. But before that, we need to contact your daughter to make sure she is okay."
Lorraine stepped into the farmhouse, her expression tense, still shaken from the encounter near the riverbank.
Jojo's words echoed in her mind —
a suggestion, but also a subtle warning.
She headed straight for the phone in the hallway, her fingers trembling slightly as she dialled the number to her home.
With heavy thunder, the rain started to pour out.
The ringing on the other end felt like a slow, agonizing countdown.
Ring~ Ring~Â
One ring. Two. Three...
Five Minutes Before Lorraine's Call...
Warren's House...
The thunder cracked outside with a blinding flash, illuminating the Warren household in a ghostly light.
Flash~Â
Rain lashed against the windows, wind howling through the trees outside.
In her room upstairs, Judy Warren stirred awake, sitting up in bed with a frown.
"____"
THUD. THUD.Â
The sound of footsteps echoed faintly through the house —
deliberate and heavy, coming from downstairs.
Rubbing her eyes, she looked over at the clock. 8:00 P.M.
Her nanny was fast asleep in the next room.
Judy hesitated.
'Only Mom goes down there…'
she remembered.
'She told me never to go near that room.'
But something felt wrong.
The footsteps weren't her mother's.
Slipping out of bed, Judy tiptoed to the staircase, peeking down.
The main floor was dimly lit by the occasional flicker of lightning, and the air felt unnaturally cold.
The footsteps had stopped, but an eerie silence now clung to everything.
"____"
She crept down the stairs slowly, each step creaking under her bare feet.
Creak~ Creak~Â
The door to the artefact room —
the one her mother kept locked at all times —
stood ajar.
Judy's breath caught.
That door was never open.
"Mom…?"
she whispered, but no reply came.
"____"
Gulp~Â
Swallowing her fear, she moved toward the artefact room, every fibre of her being telling her to turn back.
The moment she stepped into the doorway, the air turned colder.
A chill ran down her spine as her eyes adjusted to the room filled with haunted and cursed objects.
And then she saw it.
The rocking chair in the far corner was swaying gently, back and forth. And sitting in it—her dress faded, skin pale and cracked—was a woman.
She held Annabelle in her lap.
Judy's heart dropped.
The woman slowly turned her head, revealing hollow black eyes and a rotting, sneering face.
Her grip on Annabelle tightened, and the doll's eyes seemed to lock onto Judy's.
With a choked scream, Judy turned and ran, bolting down the hallway.
She slammed her bedroom door shut and locked it, her tiny body pressed against it as tears streamed down her face.
But then—BANG!
Something slammed into the door from the other side.
The rocking chair.
It had been hurled at full force, splintering into pieces against the hallway wall just as the nanny burst in, pulling Judy away and into her arms.
"It's okay, it's okay!"
the nanny whispered, her own voice shaking as she held the crying child.
Then—
RING! RING!
The hallway phone began to ring.
The nanny, startled, rushed over and picked it up.
On the other end…
"Hello?"
came Lorraine's voice, worried and breathless.
"Is Judy alright?"
The nanny stared at the shattered remains of the chair and the closed artefact room door, the echoes of what just happened still thick in the air.
"She is now,"
she whispered, holding Judy close.
"But something… something was in the house."
Perron Farmhouse...
The rain continued to fall steadily outside, tapping against the farmhouse windows like a hundred tiny warning knocks.
Inside, the air had grown tense.
The moment the call connected, Lorraine's expression shifted—
first to concern, then to alarm.
She stood by the old wooden kitchen table, the phone pressed tightly to her ear, her other hand gripping the edge so hard her knuckles turned white.
"Judy? Sweetheart—are you okay? What happened?"
she asked, her voice barely masking the fear bubbling underneath.
On the other end, Judy's voice came through, trembling and soaked in tears.
"Mom… I—I saw her… the pale woman… she was in the basement… holding Annabelle… she was just sitting there… staring at me… she didn't move, just watched… I thought she was going to take me…"
Lorraine's breath hitched.
"____"
Her heart felt like it stopped for a moment.
"The artifact room?"
she whispered, cold dread creeping up her spine.
"The door was open?"
Judy whimpered a shaky
"yes"
between sobs, and the sound pierced through Lorraine like a blade.
That room was sealed.
Every item in it —
cursed, haunted, possessed —
was regularly blessed, sealed under heavy wards, never to be tampered with.
For someone… or something… to be able to get inside—
It meant one thing.
Bathsheba had reached farther than they thought.
**********************************************************************************************************************************************************
(Author's POV)
(A/N):Â
Â
Thanks for reading the chapter!
Please give a review and power stone!!!