Armed with Claire’s findings, we knew we couldn’t wait any longer. We drove straight to Brandon and Sierra’s house, the dark web forum printouts clutched in my hand.
This time, we didn’t sneak in. We pounded on the front door, demanding answers.
Brandon answered, his face tight with annoyance, Sierra hovering behind him. “What now, Dad? I told you, Mom is fine.”
“Fine?” I shoved the printouts into his hands. “Is this ‘fine,’ Brandon? Is this your idea of a viral infection?”
He scanned the pages, his eyes darting across the threads about ‘life-siphon’ entities and the Sterling Heights ghoul. For a split second, I saw genuine panic in his eyes, a tremor in his jaw.
“What is this, Arthur?” Sierra asked, trying to sound indignant, but her voice wavered.
“It’s proof,” Claire declared, stepping forward. “Proof of what you’re doing to Mom. Of the ritual room in the basement. Of the ‘Shadow-Ghoul of Sterling Heights’ you summoned.”
Brandon threw the papers down onto the polished hardwood floor. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and then opened them again. The panic was gone, replaced by a calculated resignation.
“Alright,” he said, his voice surprisingly steady. “You caught us. But you’re blowing this out of proportion.”
My blood ran cold. He was admitting it.
“We merely performed a benign spirit binding,” Brandon continued, gesturing with an open palm, as if explaining a minor misunderstanding. “For prosperity. To help our new business flourish.”
Sierra nodded quickly. “It was just a little push. Nothing bad. We wanted a good life.”
“And Eleanor?” I demanded, my voice raw with disbelief. “You used your own mother?”
Brandon averted his gaze. “Her draining… it was an unforeseen, tragic side effect. We’re trying to contain it. We’re trying to reverse it.”
He looked at me, a flicker of something almost pleading in his eyes. “We didn’t mean for this to happen to Mom, Dad. We just… we wanted success. A good life.”
The partial confession was chilling. He admitted the ritual, but twisted it, minimized the horror. He still believed he was in control, that this was a ‘side effect,’ not a monstrous act of will. And he was trying to convince us he was the accidental victim, not the malicious orchestrator.
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