Chapter 9
Ava's. POV
The drive from Dave's parents' house felt endless, even though I knew I was heading for answers. The sun was high, but the world outside my car window seemed blurry, dull. My mind kept replaying the words I'd heard, Dave's father's calm voice saying, *"Part of the process. We knew she was sensitive. It's why we chose her."* They *chose* Avina. Like she was an object, a tool, not my sister, a person. The thought made a cold knot twist in my stomach. What process? And what was being done to her? My car, felt like a safe bubble, carrying me away from the heavy, dark energy of that place.
I gripped the steering wheel, my knuckles white. My gut screamed that Avina was in deep trouble, trapped in something ancient and wicked. The dreams, the blank looks, the strange, cold houses – it all pointed to something far beyond normal stress.
Finally, after what felt like forever, I reached Mr. Theron's quiet home on the edge of the city. It was a small, old house, hidden behind tall, green bushes, a world away from the cold grandeur of Dave's family mansions. The air here always felt lighter, cleaner, full of an old wisdom.
I knocked on the heavy wooden door, my heart pounding. It opened slowly, and there he was. Mr. Theron. He was an older man, with a kind face framed by a neat white beard and eyes that seemed to hold all the secrets of the world. He wore simple, comfortable clothes, and a faint smell of herbs and old books always seemed to cling to him. He looked at me, and his usual gentle smile faded. His eyes, deep and knowing, saw the fear in mine right away.
"Ava, my dear," he said, his voice soft but strong. "Come in. You carry a heavy storm with you."
I stepped inside, feeling a little bit of the weight ease from my shoulders just by being in his presence. We went to his small study, filled with books, strange maps, and objects I didn't understand. He sat in his worn armchair, and I sat on a stool facing him, my hands clasped tightly in my lap.
"Tell me everything, child," he said, his gaze steady. "From the very beginning."
And so I did. I started with my own dream, the one about the locked room and the baby's cry. I told him about Avina's call, her first nightmares, how the new mansion felt so cold and wrong, like something was hiding in its walls. I described the strange, heavy silence, the feeling of being watched, and the metallic smell. I talked about Avina's tiredness, her blank memory about the details of her bad dreams, and how she sometimes felt trapped.
Then, I told him about the trip to Alberton. My voice grew shaky as I described Dave's parents' house – how it felt so similar to Avina's, that same imposing, cold energy, that same dark hallway leading to a door that felt like the one in Avina's house. I told him about Avina crying out in her sleep even there.
And finally, I spoke of Dave and his father's conversation. I repeated the chilling words, *"Part of the process. We knew she was sensitive. It's why we chose her."* And the father's harsh warning about me interfering, telling Dave to give Avina "proper rest" and something "for sleep." The words felt even colder saying them out loud.
Mr. Theron listened to every word, his face serious, his eyes never leaving mine. He didn't interrupt, didn't show surprise. When I finished, the silence in the room felt thick.
He leaned forward, his voice low and firm. "Ava, what you have felt, what Avina is experiencing, and what you overheard... it is very serious. More serious than simple bad energy or a disturbed spirit." He paused, choosing his words carefully. "We are likely dealing with *black magic*, my dear. Or something very close to it."
My blood turned to ice. Black magic. The words felt ancient, dark, and terribly real.
"This kind of magic," Mr. Theron continued, "is not about random harm. It is about control. It aims to break a person's spirit, to drain their inner strength, their very life force. It can make them tired, confused, forgetful, and bind them to a specific place or purpose. The dreams Avina is having, her memory blanks, her constant tiredness – these are classic signs of such a deep spiritual attack. The 'locked room' is likely a symbolic prison, or perhaps even a doorway to where the ritual takes place, whether in her mind or somewhere real."
"But... why Avina?" I whispered, tears pricking my eyes. "And what 'process'?"
"This often runs in families," he said, his voice filled with a quiet sadness. "Such power, such dark practices, can be passed down or linked to certain bloodlines. If Dave's father spoke of a 'process' and 'choosing' Avina, it suggests she was selected for a specific role within their... agenda. Perhaps her sensitivity, her very life energy, is what they need for this 'process.' They are not just controlling her; they may be *using* her for something. And the duplicate houses, the similar locked rooms, suggest a careful, long-term plan, possibly a replication of something that has been done before."
My head reeled. This was bigger, darker, than anything I could have imagined. Avina wasn't just being haunted; she was being used, trapped in a carefully built cage.
"For now, Ava, you must pray harder than you ever have before," Mr. Theron urged, his eyes intense. "Pray for Avina, but also for yourself. This kind of darkness will try to attack you, too, for interfering. Use your gift. Feel the light within you, and push back against the darkness you sense. And when you feel uneasy, or if you have those unsettling dreams, you must *meditate*. Center yourself. Clear your mind. Visualize a bright, protective light around yourself and Avina. This will strengthen your defenses and make it harder for them to reach you."
He sighed, shaking his head. "I wish I had all the answers for you now, child. But this is deep, and it is old. I need time to think, to search my texts, to delve into what this 'process' might be. But you must be strong. You are Avina's only hope outside of their grasp. Do not confront them directly yet. Watch. Protect yourself. And wait for my word."
He looked at me, a profound worry in his gaze. "You have sensed a great evil, Ava. Be very, very careful. And trust your instincts. They are your strongest shield."
I nodded, feeling a strange mix of fear and determination. The path ahead was terrifying, but at least now I had a direction, a name for the evil we faced. Black magic. And I knew I had a powerful master guiding me. My sister was caught in a dark, intricate web, and I was the only one who could see the threads. I had to learn how to cut them.
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End of chapter
What do you think Ava will do next, armed with this terrifying knowledge and Mr. Theron's advice?
Tbc.....