A/N: As usual, I would recommend putting the video on loop.

Droplets of water splashing against glass woke her back up. As her eyes opened, (f/n) still found herself curled up into the fetal position. Her eyes easily locked onto where the pile of knives was supposed to be. When she noticed that it wasn't there, alarms rang in her head.

Instantly, she sat up. This action caused a slight pain to run through her head, indicating that her headache from before still hadn't left. It was getting better yesterday, but after everything that happened, it didn't surprise her that it had decided to get worse again.

Regardless of the pain in her head, she peered around the room and found the knives soon after. They were all thrown into the wall to the left of the couch. Somehow, though, they managed to form the shape of an arrow, which pointed downwards.

Instead of going towards it, she stood up slowly and moved to her right side a bit to get a better view of what was below the arrow. There was nothing there. Was it some joke that the thing was playing on her? Did it want her to sit below the arrow? Or, did it mean that the being was there below the sign?

Whatever the case, she had no intention of going near that arrow of death. So, cautiously she walked towards the kitchen, never turning her back on the knives. They could come out of the wall at any second and attack again. Of course, this would make getting some breakfast difficult, since she would have to maintain a constant eye on the weapons.

She did manage to get her breakfast prepared with no problem, which was a surprise. (F/n) knew that it was time for the meal because she had seen the time on the domed clock in the living room. It was much earlier than she usually would get up, with it being six in the morning. Now, though, with the thing in the house with her, she was lucky to get any sleep at all. Besides, her typical sleep schedule had already been thrown into a pit of void.

As long as the house was haunted, she would be lucky to wake up alive. Sleeping left her incredibly vulnerable, yet her body needed it. She also required it if she ever wanted to get rid of the headache. Granted, she doubted that the headache would ever go away for her stay at the house. (F/n) was continually being frightened by the thing in the home with her.

So, with her bowl of cranberry-orange oatmeal, she ate her meal, though, speedily. The entire time, however, she watched the knives in the wall to see if they would move. It would be easy for one to dislodge itself and come flying at her.

Additionally, the rain outside wasn't helpful. She was training her ears to listen for any suspicious sound in the house, yet the rain made doing so all the more difficult. Usually, she found the falling water calming. Right now, though, she just found it as a way to aid the being in the house with her.

Thankfully, she could still catch one strange sound in the building. This noise was familiar, and she had heard it only yesterday. Something was being dragged again. Her attention focusing on the hallway, she waited for the item to appear. She could hear her heart beginning to pound in her chest, while her eyes stayed glued to the hall.

Eventually, the object revealed itself. It was the table that the statue used to stand on. She had never moved it back to its place by the door, and that seemed to be where it was heading. Her eyes still observed the table until it stood in its original place. Nothing happened after that, so she looked back over at the knives.

Like before, she had made the same mistake again. The table was a mere distraction; four of the knives had fallen from the wall. Even with them gone, the arrow's shape was still intact. Why had four been removed? Did that mean that she had four seconds, minutes, or hours to go over there? Or, was the more important number consisting of the knives that stayed in the wall? Was there even a significant meaning to the four knives being taken out?

Her oatmeal was finished; it had been for a few minutes. She pushed the bowl and spoon aside, getting off of the wooden chair by the kitchen counter. For the moment, she wouldn't wash the dishes because otherwise her back would be turned to the knives. Instead, she left the kitchen area and went to go to her room. There she could close her room door.

The being probably would open the door back up, but she could listen for any movement of the knives. Still, the rain's pit-pattering noise would be present, but the only way into her room was through the doorway. She would be able to see any attack coming unless the thing decided to use something in her room.

Unfortunately, she never made it to even the hallway. The moment that she was about to walk down it something cold pushed her back. A shiver traveled through her body, as her shoulders felt like they had been submerged in ice water. Her eyes stared at the spot where she had felt the rush of cold air. It was standing there, it had to be. Or, at least it had been there. Maybe, it had already moved.

(F/n) directed her focus back to the knives, especially when one of the fallen ones started to come towards her at a steady pace. Remembering the incident from yesterday, panic began to rise up in her. Was the thing going to finish the job now? She took a few steps back, as it continued to close the distance between it and her.

Suddenly, the knife rose into the air and pointed to the arrow. This only lasted a few seconds before it fell back to the ground. (F/n) shook her head, not desiring to take a step over to that area. A cold shove sent her forward a bit, while the back of her shoulders ached with a strong chill. Obviously, the thing wasn't going to leave her alone until she went over there. At least it had let her eat her breakfast beforehand. That didn't make this situation any better, though. This being was still messing with her regardless. Reluctantly, she traveled over to the arrow made of knives. Each step took longer, as she neared the terrifying creation. She gripped the hem of her pale purple tank top, trying to keep her hands from shaking so much.

When she stood a few feet from it, she didn't take another step forward. No cold wave crashed against her body. Rather, things stayed quiet and still. She went to go back a step. Upon moving her right foot back, all of the knives in the wall fell to the floor. The clattering of metal rang through the house before a loud thump sounded in the kitchen. This time she didn't glance over to the other sound; she had made that mistake twice already.

Keeping her focus on the knives, she felt another shock of cold. The front of her shoulders retracted from it, the feeling highly uncomfortable. When she still didn't peer over at the kitchen, the chill occurred again.

Getting the message, she hesitantly glanced over that way. The knife drawer was resting on the kitchen tile. Confused, she looked between the drawer and the knives. Did the thing want her to put the knives back; did it want her to clean up after it?

For once, she didn't feel threatened. Instead, she was utterly annoyed. Even her left eyebrow twitched in irritation. Her fear dissipating somewhat, her confidence returned a little. "I'm not cleaning this up for you. If it bothers you, pick them up yourself," she voiced, as she took a seat on the couch. (F/n) knew that defying this thing wasn't a good idea. After all she had planned to play along with its twisted game, but this irked her. This thing had nearly killed her with those knives, and now it wanted her to clean them up? She didn't wish to give it the satisfaction of picking up the tools that had threatened her life previously; she didn't even want to go near them in the first place.

Well, this was unexpected. Drem didn't think that she would disobey him, especially since she most likely knew how easily he could kill her. He did see that spark of boldness in her (e/c) eyes. Was she attempting to anger him in order to see if she would be punished severely for her actions; was his little doe testing his limits?

Technically, he was somewhat irritated that she wasn't putting the knives back. He could put them back in the drawer himself, but he couldn't place the drawer back in its place. Well, as he thought about it, he could probably put the drawer back now. Before, with the wallet and writing utensils, he hadn't been able to focus that much to get the items to go back into their places, hence the reason why the writing on her back was somewhat messy. Thankfully, she had been able to read it. In the end, however, he had been able to raise the marker into the air and write. While she was asleep, he had formed an arrow on the wall by lifting the knives into the air and throwing them.

He had been performing tasks that he previously thought impossible. Drem was just enjoying terrifying his little doe so much that he hadn't even given much thought to it if any thought at all. The methodical actions, like placing the wallet contents back into the wallet, probably weren't out of his reach. In fact he knew that they weren't now. When he had first escaped that cage, he was rather weak in comparison to his state at the present. Apparently, Nathan had kept that fact to himself.

Drem was feeding off of her fear. No wonder he felt an increased sense of strength every time she became frightened. This was certainly a valuable discovery. As long as he kept her terrified, his capabilities would grow. Grinning, he locked his brown orbs onto her sitting form.