Scott's steps had gotten faster; he could feel as though there are numbers of eyes pierced on him directly through his soul.

At this point, he didn't care where his legs would take him not until to a small degree, he came face to face to an old door—a familiar-looking door.

Furrows slowly formed on his forehead when he realized he was approaching the main door of Samantha's house.

Now, he's been caught in a loop. He somehow regretted entering the place. He moved right and reached to his back pack which is no longer there.

His shoulders dropped. "For the love of Christ," he groaned, scratching his nape in fury. Biting his bottom lip, he moved near the entrance. The most logical volition he has is to enter the house once again. It might be the evil entity that led him to come up to such a decision or his stupidity itself, nothing matters now as the moment he opened the door, an immense stench shook his entire body, freezing him at one pace—there's no turning back. The smell is somehow familiar, it reeks of death and decay.

"Holy gods," he gasped the moment he laid his eyes inside. He was expecting to see dead bodies; nevertheless, not to the extent that a decaying half-a-human, pinned on the wall right on the family hall, would welcome him. It could not be identified to which gender it belongs; it barely had hair left on its rotting scalp.

Scott's eyes narrowed for a second, adjusting his vision towards the nails on its palms—no, they're scissors. Clear signs are showing that the person suffered before meeting its demise and the remaining flesh surrounding its lips tells it all. For a moment, Scott almost fell back.

He participated in torturing the cursed before, but this, to him, is something that would fold his guts still. He looked back. Nothing's out there but darkness.

"Ahh fuck it," his lips curled and stepped in anyway. Avoiding the thing to where the odor of the putrescent flesh is coming, he kept his eyes down although he's au courant with the fact that it ain't the only thing around.

Along the way, he'd undoubtedly face far more terrifying and the fact that he doesn't have any idea how to leave the situation is keeping his anxiety loaded. His nose scrunched.

He got too occupied, he failed to discern the miasma surrounding the entire place.

"Straight out of a horror movie, ah," he groaned and was about to take a step forward when something passed behind him in a high speed, he barely sees what it was. It should be someone, otherwise it won't make sense.

He moved the lamp to his left to where the thing vanished, but saw nothing. Just like in a typical horror scene, the character trailed the direction to where the mysterious being disappeared and Scott is no different as he did exactly what should clearly not be done to fall into the hands of the devil. Only a few steps took him to the basement. Nothing's there aside from a black book placed in the middle

Scott blinked, not certain of what to do. A part of him wanted to check it for himself, but the biggest part locked his legs on the floor. Gut feelings are always right; however, he entered the place to look for a clue and he's certain he'll get something out the book in front of him. He moved closer and arched down to pick the book up.

"Diarium meum, mea vita," Scott mumbled, reading the only four words written on the cover. He knows it's in Latin, but he doesn't have any idea what it means. He's still in war with his mind to whether open it up or not or find a way to bring it back with him.

"Oh," his lips parted when a table and a stool appeared in front of him. Suddenly, he had decided that it is already a sign from the heavens for him to inspect the book. Scott gently placed the lantern on the table, cautious enough not to create any sound.

Finally, he sat and opened the book into a wide spread. An amused line curved on his lips to see the words written in the language he understands.

"He lived by the remaining clemency of his iniquitous father and as young as five, he was already superseded to be the perfect tool to help the man fulfill his plans for his personal gain. The child became as evil as the one who raised him, thus, did things in accordance to what he believes is right."

Scott halted at the last sentence of the first page. For a brief moment, his mind seems to have crossed a different path.

Chills suddenly ran through his spines as he knew what he was reading is his story as a child.