All Chapters of The Echoes we Bury: Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

The scream pierced the silence, cutting through Elliot’s thoughts like a blade. He froze, Emma clutching his arm as the sound echoed down the hallways of Wintercroft Hall. It was raw and desperate, full of terror, and it didn’t stop.“We have to go,” Emma said, her voice trembling.Elliot nodded, shaking off the fog in his mind. He grabbed the flashlight and turned toward the door, but when he looked back, the stranger was gone—vanished into the shadows.“Where did they go?” Emma asked.Elliot didn’t answer. There wasn’t time.The scream came again, fainter now, as if whoever was screaming was moving deeper into the mansion. Without another word, Elliot and Emma bolted out of the room and into the dark, twisting halls.The mansion seemed to close in around them as they ran. Shadows stretched long across the walls, and the air grew colder the farther they went. The flickering flashlight beam barely pierced the gloom, and the sound of their footsteps echoed like gunshots against the sto

The mansion seemed to groan with the weight of its secrets, every creak of the floorboards a sharp reminder of the danger lurking in its shadows. Elliot and Emma stood frozen in the dim corridor, the sound of shattering glass still echoing in their ears.“Where did it come from?” Emma asked, her voice barely above a whisper.Elliot’s grip tightened on the flashlight, the faint beam trembling as it illuminated the hallway ahead. “The west wing,” he said. “We need to move.”The words came out steady, but his chest felt tight, a growing weight of dread pressing down on him. He didn’t wait for Emma’s response—his feet were already moving, the light cutting through the oppressive darkness as they hurried toward the sound.The hallway stretched long and empty, its cracked walls lined with faded portraits of grim-faced Ashworth ancestors. Their painted eyes seemed to follow Elliot and Emma as they moved, the silence pressing down on them like a second skin.“It’s too quiet,” Emma murmured.E

The narrow passage beneath the fireplace loomed before them, dark and uninviting. The air wafting from within was cold and stale, carrying the faint scent of damp stone and decay. Elliot crouched down, his flashlight cutting through the shadows, revealing a set of steep, uneven steps descending into the depths of Wintercroft Hall.Emma hesitated, standing a few feet back. “You really think we have to go down there?”Elliot nodded, though the weight of the decision pressed heavy on his chest. “We don’t have a choice. This house—whoever’s behind this—is leading us somewhere.”Emma wrapped her arms around herself, her voice trembling. “And what if it’s leading us to our deaths?”Elliot turned to her, his jaw set. “Then at least we’ll know the truth before it happens.”The descent was slow and suffocating. The steps were narrow, forcing them to move single file, their breaths loud in the confined space. The flashlight beam flickered as they went, casting fleeting glimpses of the stone wall

The chime of the clock reverberated through the study, each toll growing louder, heavier, more insistent. The air in the room felt electric, charged with an energy that pressed against Elliot’s chest like a weight.12:12.Vivienne stood by the door, her thin frame casting long shadows in the flickering light. Her pale hands were clasped in front of her, her calm demeanor at odds with the tension filling the room.“You feel it, don’t you?” she said, her voice soft and deliberate. “The house is waiting. It’s watching.”Elliot’s grip on the candlestick tightened. “Waiting for what?”“For you to choose,” Vivienne said simply, her eyes glinting with something unreadable. “The clock strikes at 12:13. When it does, one of you must stay. That is the house’s demand.”Emma shook her head, backing toward the desk. “No. No, we’re not doing this. There has to be another way!”Vivienne’s faint smile didn’t waver. “There is no other way. The house was built on sacrifice. It survives because of it. A

The shadows receded from the study, the room gradually bathed in the faint, flickering glow of the fireplace. The oppressive weight that had filled the air began to lift, but Elliot’s chest felt heavier than ever.He sat on the cold floor, his hands trembling, his mind replaying the memory of Liam’s fall. For so long, he had buried the truth, wrapped it in excuses, and locked it away. But now it was out, raw and undeniable.Vivienne stood near the fireplace, her expression calm but expectant. “The house is satisfied,” she said quietly. “You’ve given it the truth it demanded. But it isn’t finished with you yet.”Elliot looked up at her, his voice hoarse. “What do you mean?”Vivienne stepped closer, her thin frame casting long shadows across the room. “The house offered you a choice before: one stays, one leaves. You made that choice for Emma. But now, it’s your turn.”Elliot frowned, his stomach sinking. “Another choice? I thought—”Vivienne shook her head. “You’ve faced the truth, but