Egry's voice grew quieter, but her words cut deeper.
"There was something off," she whispered. "A feeling. Like the shadows were watching me. Like they were waiting."
Anne's pendant flickered, casting long, trembling shadows across the skull-lined pit.
"Then the mansion appeared," Egry continued. "It wasn't there before. It just… grew out of the ground. Like it had been buried and decided to wake up."
Anne leaned closer, her breath shallow.
"A lady came out," Egry said. "She wore a black veil and smiled like she knew me. She said, You are my savior."
Anne frowned. "What did she mean?"
"I didn't know," Egry said. "I didn't ask. I just… followed her."
Her eyes darkened.
"And then I woke up in the basement."
"At first, it was quiet," Egry said. "Just me. And the walls. And the cold."
"But then she started using me."
Anne's stomach turned. "Using you?"
Egry nodded. "Every time she used her powers—every time she twisted someone's fear—I felt it. I coughed up blood. My nails grew. My skin cracked."
"She fed off me."
Anne's eyes widened. "You were her conduit."
Egry looked down. "I was her puppet."
Anne's pendant pulsed brighter.
She looked around the pit—the skulls, the walls, the air itself.
And then it clicked.
"You're not just a girl," Anne whispered. "You're an egregore."
Egry blinked. "What's that?"
Anne stood slowly. "An egregore is a living entity born from collective fear, trauma, belief. They live in walls. In places soaked with emotion. They feed off negativity."
Egry's eyes widened.
"The Blair Witch trials," Anne said. "All that pain. All that fear. It made the walls grow. It made you."
Egry trembled. "But I didn't ask to be born."
Anne stepped forward. "I know. But someone's using you. That lady—her ghost—she's manipulating you to twist people's minds."
Egry looked up, tears in her eyes. "I don't want to hurt anyone."
Anne knelt beside her. "Then help me get out. Help me stop her."
Egry hesitated.
Then nodded.