020 Roughly ten minutes after Jordan finished her coffee, her eyelids began growing noticeably heavier.
She tried to keep talking, but her words gradually slowed as exhaustion overwhelmed her, and before long she slumped sideways against the sofa and fell into a deep sleep.
Darius Kane and Quinn Harris exchanged relieved looks, though anyone walking into the room without context might have interpreted the scene very differently.
In reality, they had used the medically planned sleep aid only because neither of them trusted a frightened teenager to resist Ozhin’s hallucinations during the final confrontation.
Even an adult could lose control when faced with a demon capable of turning memories and loved ones into weapons.
Quinn immediately took one of the crosses Darius had collected earlier and carefully placed it around Jordan’s neck.
She adjusted her sister’s position on the sofa, covered her with a blanket, and checked that she was breathing normally before finally relaxing.
“I’m going to shower while we still have time,” she whispered.
Darius nodded and replied, “Go ahead.
I’ll do one last sweep of the house.” Neither of them wanted to discover a broken salt line or unsecured opening once the countdown entered its final moments.
While Quinn was in the bathroom, Darius slowly inspected every defensive layer they’d prepared.
The salt-and-glue lines around the doors were intact, the windows remained sealed, and the interior fallback boundaries hadn’t been disturbed.
He checked the living room ward, the kitchen entrances, and the secondary barriers one more time before returning to Jordan and confirming that she hadn’t moved.
By the time Quinn came back downstairs, everything was exactly where it needed to be.
They turned on every light in the house.
Darius refused to repeat one of the most irritating habits in horror movies—characters deliberately wandering around dark houses when electricity was readily available.
Whether the threat was a masked killer, ghost, demon, or monster, protagonists always seemed determined to investigate strange noises without switching on a lamp.
Someone heard footsteps downstairs and walked toward them in total darkness; someone saw a shadow and decided hiding in an even darker room was somehow safer.
Darius had watched enough of that nonsense from his couch and had no intention of copying it now that his own life depended on sensible decisions.
Quinn sat beside him on the sofa and repeatedly checked her phone.
Her leg bounced uncontrollably against the floor, betraying how nervous she was even though she kept trying to appear calm.
Darius glanced down at it and smiled.
“Relax.
If you keep shaking like that, you’re going to crack the foundation before Ozhin gets here.” Quinn managed a weak laugh and replied, “If I were strong enough to crack the ground, I wouldn’t be worried about a demon.” Darius opened a Coke.
“That’s the spirit.
Besides, you’re not handling this alone.” He offered to let her sleep for a little while and conserve her energy, but Quinn immediately shook her head.
There was no chance she could close her eyes while knowing a supernatural timer was counting toward her death.
Darius didn’t push her and simply remained nearby, keeping the conversation casual whenever the silence became too oppressive.
After a while, Quinn seemed to remember something important.
She quietly opened a drawer, took out a sheet of paper and a pen, then began writing with deliberate care.
Darius caught only the first words—Dear Dad—before immediately understanding what she was doing.
He turned his attention toward the television screen even though it wasn’t playing anything, giving her as much privacy as possible.
Quinn was writing a farewell letter.
Darius didn’t take offense or interpret it as a lack of faith in his plan.
They were preparing to challenge a supernatural entity whose curse had already killed Courtney and Evan exactly when their timers expired.
Salt, crosses, prayers, and careful planning gave them a chance, but none of those things guaranteed success.
When failure meant permanent death, preparing for the worst wasn’t pessimism; it was common sense.
Quinn spent several minutes finishing the letter, folded it carefully, and placed it inside a small box where her father could eventually find it.
Then she picked up her phone and called him.
“Hey, Dad.
How’s the trip going?
Don’t work yourself too hard, okay?” She listened for a moment before continuing, “Jordan’s fine.
She’s already asleep.
Yeah, everything’s good here.” Her voice almost broke near the end.
“Come home safe.
I’ll see you soon.” Quinn hung up.
She remained motionless afterward, staring at the dark screen in her hand.
Darius didn’t offer empty reassurance.
There wasn’t anything useful he could say at that moment, and Quinn needed a few minutes to control her own emotions.
After sitting quietly for a while, she rubbed her eyes, took several steady breaths, and slowly regained her composure.
Whatever happened tonight, she couldn’t spend the final stretch imagining her own funeral.
She had Jordan beside her.
She had Darius helping her.
And they had a plan.
That had to be enough.
Time continued crawling forward.
The house became increasingly quiet as the night deepened, every tiny sound seeming louder than it should have been.
Jordan remained asleep beneath her blanket while Darius periodically checked each defensive line and Quinn watched the countdown continue shrinking.
Nothing happened for so long that the silence itself became unsettling, like the calm before a storm gathering strength beyond the horizon.
Quinn tried to act normal, but fear remained visible in her face and posture.
Darius eventually walked to the refrigerator and returned with two ice-cold cans of Coke, handing one to her.
“Here.
You look like you’re overheating.” Quinn smiled faintly, opened it, and took a long drink.
“Thanks.” Darius opened his own and drank nearly half in one go, mostly because he was thirsty rather than nervous.
Quinn lifted hers again, but the can stopped halfway to her lips.
Her entire body suddenly stiffened.
Darius noticed immediately.
“What is it?” Quinn didn’t answer at first.
Her eyes were locked on the living-room window.
The color slowly drained from her face.
“Darius…” Her voice barely came out.
“It’s here.” His grip tightened around the Coke.
“Where?” “Outside the window.” Darius immediately turned his attention toward the glass.
Moonlight revealed the yard, several trees, and shadows stretching across the property, but he couldn’t identify anything resembling the creature Quinn was staring at.
Ozhin appeared to reveal itself far more clearly to people directly bound to Countdown, which left Darius relying on Quinn to tell him where the demon was.
He kept his voice controlled.
“Describe it.” Quinn swallowed.
“It’s the same thing I saw in the hospital mirror.
Only clearer now.” The figure stood motionless beyond the window, towering far above an ordinary person.
Its body appeared almost completely black, as though shaped from a patch of darkness that absorbed the light around it.
Two dim yellow eyes burned within the silhouette, and even from a distance Quinn could feel something overwhelmingly cold and hostile pressing against her senses.
She had never felt fear like this before.
It wasn’t simply the fear of being attacked.
It felt more primitive.
Like prey realizing a predator had already found it.
Quinn stumbled closer to Darius and clutched his arm with both hands.
“It’s just standing there.” Darius stared toward the same spot even though he still couldn’t see Ozhin clearly.
“Outside the salt line?” “Yes.” “Good.” He lowered his voice.
“That means the first barrier is working.
Don’t look away unless you have to, and tell me immediately if it moves.” Quinn nodded quickly.
For several seconds, nothing changed.
Ozhin remained outside.
Watching.
Waiting.
Darius felt a small surge of confidence.
The salt-and-glue boundary was doing exactly what he’d hoped, confirming that the protective method from the movie still worked inside Horror Town’s version of the world.
As long as Quinn stayed inside the ward and resisted whatever hallucinations Ozhin created, they only needed to endure until the countdown failed.
Then every light in the house went out at once.
The living room vanished into darkness.
Quinn gasped.
Darius instinctively closed his eyes for a moment as his vision struggled with the sudden change.
After several seconds, faint moonlight through the windows allowed vague shapes to emerge again.
Quinn immediately looked toward the yard.
“It’s still there.” “All right.” Darius reached toward the sofa without hesitation.
He’d expected this.
In horror movies, electricity was practically guaranteed to fail whenever something supernatural decided to become serious.
Depending entirely on the house lights would have been idiotic.
Darius grabbed his backpack, opened it, and pulled out two oversized rechargeable flashlights he’d prepared earlier.
Click.
Click.
Powerful white beams flooded the living room.
The darkness disappeared.
Quinn looked toward him in surprise.
Darius handed her one of the flashlights.
“Rule number one of surviving a horror movie.” He raised his own light toward the window.
“Never trust the electricity.” And this was only his first backup.
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