Sins of the Ancestorz

The house seemed quieter after their encounter in the cellar, but the silence felt wrong, charged with tension. Eliza paced the study, her thoughts tumbling over themselves. The image of the stone slab etched with symbols haunted her mind.

Daniel sat at the desk, flipping through the journals again, his jaw set in frustration. "There has to be more," he muttered, slamming one closed and reaching for another. "We're missing something."

Eliza stopped pacing and turned to him. "You said the ritual requires blood. Does that mean it needs mine?"

Daniel's gaze flicked to her, hesitant. "It's likely. The bloodline is the anchor—your bloodline. The Watcher is bound to you in a way it wasn't bound to your grandmother. That's why it's stronger now."

Eliza sank into a chair, her stomach twisting. "So, I have to sacrifice myself to stop this thing?"

"No," Daniel said firmly. "Not necessarily. There are ways to outwit these things, but we have to know exactly what we're dealing with."

As the words left his mouth, a loud knock echoed through the house. The sound was sharp and unexpected, making both of them jump.

"Who could that be?" Eliza whispered, her heart pounding.

Daniel stood, his expression wary. "Stay here."

He moved toward the front door, his footsteps light. Eliza, unable to quell her curiosity, followed a few paces behind.

When Daniel opened the door, a woman stood on the porch, her rain-soaked cloak clinging to her frail frame. Her face was pale and lined with age, but her eyes were sharp and piercing.

"Eliza Ravenswood," the woman said, her voice steady despite her apparent fragility.

Eliza stepped forward, startled. "Who are you?"

The woman's gaze shifted to her, and a small smile played on her lips. "You don't recognize me, but I knew your grandmother well. My name is Eleanor Thorne. I came because I felt it—the Watcher is awake again."

Daniel tensed. "How do you know about the Watcher?"

Eleanor chuckled, the sound dry and brittle. "I was there when it was bound, long before your time. I helped your grandmother trap it."

Eliza's breath caught. "You...you were there? How is that possible? You'd have to be..."

"Old," Eleanor finished with a smirk. "The binding took something from me—years of my life, twisted and stretched. But that's not important now. What's important is stopping the Watcher before it takes you."

Daniel narrowed his eyes. "If you helped bind it, why didn't you destroy it back then?"

Eleanor's smile faded. "We couldn't. The Watcher isn't just a spirit or a curse. It's a remnant of something older, something far darker. We could only trap it, but I warned your grandmother that the binding wouldn't last forever. She chose to ignore the warning."

Eliza felt a surge of frustration. "So what do we do now? The journals aren't giving us any clear answers, and the Watcher is getting stronger."

Eleanor stepped inside, her movements deliberate. "The journals won't help you. What you need is hidden in this house—deep beneath it. Your grandmother thought she could hide it from everyone, including you. But the truth can't stay buried forever."

Eliza exchanged a glance with Daniel, who looked just as unsettled as she felt.

"Are you saying there's more than just the cellar?" Eliza asked.

Eleanor nodded. "There's a passage beneath the stone slab. It leads to the heart of the binding. If you want to stop the Watcher, you'll have to go there."

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