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Chapter 11: The Accusation
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2025-02-20 18:56:39The stranger’s words cut through the air like a blade.
“I’m saying you killed him.”
Elliot froze, the candlestick in his hand trembling. His mind raced, rejecting the accusation even as memories clawed their way to the surface—fragments of his brother’s laughter, the flash of sunlight on that fateful day, the sound of something breaking.
“You’re lying,” Elliot said, his voice low but unsteady.
The stranger took a step closer, their presence calm and unnerving. “Am I?”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I know more than you think,” the stranger said, their voice soft but firm. “I know what you’ve buried, what you’ve tried to forget. But the truth doesn’t disappear just because you refuse to face it.”
Emma looked between them, her eyes wide and fearful. “What’s going on?” she whispered. “Elliot, what are they talking about?”
“I didn’t kill him,” Elliot snapped, his voice sharp. “It was an accident.”
The stranger’s gaze didn’t waver. “Are you sure about that?”
The room felt colder now, the walls closer, the air heavier. Elliot’s chest heaved as he struggled to control his breathing.
“I don’t have to explain myself to you,” he said, his voice tight.
“No,” the stranger replied, “but you should explain it to her.”
They nodded toward Emma, who was staring at Elliot with a mixture of confusion and dread.
“Elliot,” she said softly, “what happened to your brother?”
He looked away, his hands clenching into fists. “It’s none of your business.”
“Maybe it should be,” the stranger said. “After all, isn’t that why you’re here? To finally confront what happened?”
Elliot shook his head, the room spinning around him. “I don’t know what you’re trying to do, but it won’t work. I know what happened that day. I was there.”
“And yet,” the stranger said, their voice like silk, “you’ve spent your whole life running from it. Why is that, Elliot?”
Elliot turned on them, his face flushed with anger. “Who the hell are you?” he demanded. “Why do you know so much about me?”
The stranger’s smile returned, faint and cryptic. “Because I’ve been watching you. All of you.”
“Why?” Emma asked, her voice breaking. “Why do this to us? What’s the point?”
“To reveal the truth,” the stranger replied simply. “About all of you. About what you’ve done. You were brought here because of your guilt, your lies, your secrets. But Elliot…” They turned back to him, their eyes sharp. “You’ve buried more than anyone.”
Elliot’s jaw tightened. “You don’t know anything about me.”
“Oh, but I do,” the stranger said. “I know you’ve spent years convincing yourself it was an accident. That you had no choice. But deep down, you know the truth. You didn’t push him, did you?”
Elliot flinched, the words hitting him like a physical blow. “Stop.”
“You didn’t mean for him to fall,” the stranger continued, their voice relentless. “But you were there. You were the one who let it happen.”
“I said stop!” Elliot’s voice echoed through the room, filled with desperation and fury.
The stranger’s expression didn’t change. “If you want to survive this, Elliot, you need to stop running. You need to remember what really happened that day.”
Elliot’s chest heaved as he glared at them, his mind a storm of fragmented memories and emotions.
“I remember enough,” he spat. “I remember my brother was always in trouble, always pushing things too far. I remember trying to stop him, but I was too late.”
“And what did you do after?” the stranger asked.
Elliot faltered.
“What did you do, Elliot?”
“I…” His voice cracked, and he looked away, the weight of the question pressing down on him.
Emma stepped closer, her voice soft and hesitant. “Elliot, it’s okay. You can tell us.”
He shook his head, his eyes fixed on the floor. “You don’t understand.”
“Then help us understand,” she said. “Please.”
Elliot’s grip on the candlestick loosened, his arms dropping to his sides. He exhaled shakily, the fight draining out of him.
“I ran,” he said finally, his voice barely audible. “I ran to get help, but… it was too late. He was already gone.”
The stranger’s smile faded, replaced by something almost like pity. “And you’ve been running ever since.”
Elliot looked up sharply, his eyes blazing. “You don’t know what it was like. You don’t know what it’s like to lose someone and wonder every day if it was your fault.”
“No,” the stranger said, their voice low. “But you do.”
Before Elliot could respond, the sound of shattering glass echoed through the mansion, followed by a scream that sent chills down his spine.
Emma grabbed his arm, her eyes wide with terror. “It’s happening again.”
The stranger smiled faintly, stepping back into the shadows. “Time’s running out, Elliot.”
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The hallway stretched long and dim, the flickering light casting jagged shadows along the walls. Elliot’s grip on the candlestick tightened as the figure stepped closer, their movements deliberate and unhurried.“You’ve done well to get this far,” the stranger said, their voice calm, almost conversational.Elliot’s throat tightened. There was something off about the way they spoke, as though they were rehearsing a part in a play.“Who are you?” Elliot asked, his voice low, steady.The stranger tilted their head, smiling faintly. “I suppose you could call me… the overseer.”“The overseer of what?” Elliot demanded.Their smile widened, but their eyes remained cold. “This,” they said simply, gesturing around them. “The judgment. The reckoning. Call it what you will.”Elliot’s pulse quickened. “So you’re the one behind this. The notes. The deaths. It’s you.”The stranger’s expression didn’t falter. “You’re quick to accuse, but I haven’t touched a single one of you. You’re doing this to yo
