Chapter 3: The Thing They Buried Together
Chapter 3: The Thing They Buried Together
“You don’t understand,” Richard said finally.
His voice was lower now.
Rough.
Not angry anymore—desperate.
“I did it for us.”
She shook her head, tears burning her eyes. “Don’t you dare say that.”
He stepped closer and grabbed her arm.
Not gentle.
Not accidental.
“Do you think I wanted this?” he snapped.
She yanked back, but his grip tightened. “Richard, let go—”
“You made me do it,” he said suddenly.
The words froze her.
Silence snapped tight again.
Even the air felt trapped.
She stared at him. “What did you just say?”
His grip loosened slightly, like he realized what he had revealed too late.
But it was already out.
She backed toward the bleeding door.
Her voice dropped to a whisper. “You said we handled it. You said it was over.”
Richard laughed once—broken, humorless.
“Over?” he echoed. “Nothing is over when it’s still breathing under the floorboards.”
A sound came from the other side of the door.
Not a leak.
Not a trick.
A knock.
Three slow taps.
From inside.
She stopped breathing.
Richard closed his eyes.
Like a man accepting execution.
And when she looked at him again, the truth finally settled into place.
Whatever they had buried in that room—
It had not stayed buried.
Her voice shook. “Richard… what did you put in there?”
He looked at her.
And for the first time since she met him, there was no mask left at all.
“If we open that door,” he said quietly, “we don’t survive what comes out.”
Another knock.
Louder this time.
The blood reached her toes.
And she understood the real horror wasn’t what was inside the room.
May you like
It was that it already knew their names.
The End
