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

Business was back at its usual rate, just like it had been for the last nine months. It had been consistent since the cause of the problem had been stopped to a degree. The reason stemmed back to the process of negotiation. First, it had been with their daughter secretly, then with them openly and lastly with their daughter openly. It was supposed to return to their agreement with him within a years' time from the starting point of that dreadful game, but it hadn't even been half a year since then, and they already had lost their patience on multiple accounts since they had no idea what was happening to their daughter, (f/n).

Yet when they had received three unexpected deaths from their town, that increased their worry tenfold. And, their patience almost became nonexistent. When they first had heard about how Mae Aquis had died of dehydration, they had thought the death odd, but their worries sky-rocketed when they learned who she had been a babysitter to: those four kids who didn't understand fully what they were meddling with. It didn't help that they recently received news about two of them: Oliver Lahim and Terry Gluson. Most likely, though, Gretchen Hanwater and Leon Airclear were dead also.

Just from hearing the bizarre deaths of the two children, both of them knew that the creature had been behind their demise. Yes, he didn't use his signature five puncture wounds to the heart, but he wanted to hide and didn't wish to give himself away. Still, they didn't know what their meeting with the creature meant for their daughter. Had (f/n) been involved in their deaths? Even if she was, though, they'd still accept her back with open arms, but if that was the case, they worried for her mental state. Already, she had been suffering enough; she didn't need any more, and she hadn't required any to begin with.

And, it wasn't as though they just could forget about the children's deaths and move on. Both of them were in their funeral home. Neither family wanted them to be buried; they wanted them cremated since they didn't wish to view the graphic state that either of them were in. (M/n) had told them that she could apply makeup to their bodies as well as sew the wounds closed. Terry would look relatively like normal, but Oliver was the main issue since his right fingers were missing. Still, neither family agreed to burial, so both her husband and her planned for cremation.

Both children already had been cremated and placed into the urns that each family desired. The services would be held in the next couple of days: Terry's in the morning and Oliver's in the late afternoon. Out of habit, they had removed the internal organs from both bodies and stored them in a freezer where they kept the bodies of the deceased. They never knew if their daughter would lose and both of them would return home early, but they did have a substantial supply of remains in storage for the creature. Hopefully, though, they wouldn't see their daughter until the year of the game was up, but they still were concerned awfully for her wellbeing. If they did see her sooner than expected, they hoped that the creature was dead. Then, they could end the process of storing organs for him.

Sighing over the worrying and morbid state of affairs, (m/n) tapped her pen against the counter of the front desk. She was reviewing their financials for the month, but the numbers were turning into squiggles and blurs from her lack of attention. Technically, she had the day off from business matters, but she hadn't been able to keep herself away; she needed something to focus on, or the concern would set in like a thick, unyielding fog. Unfortunately, it still did take residence in her mind. "I hate him," she mumbled to herself as she supported her forehead against the palm of her left hand.

"I know that you do." She looked up tiredly to see her husband standing on the other side of the desk. In his hands was a fresh cup of what smelled like earl grey tea. The tall man of 6'7 leaned over and set the mug down beside the financials but not too close to them. Standing back up fully, he leaned against the nearby wall and crossed his arms. "But, you need to stop focusing on that; we both do." His (e/c) eyes glanced over to the door briefly. "(F/n) has dealt with him on countless occasions; she can handle him."

"You don't sound too confident, (d/n)." She moved the tea closer to her and partook of a careful sip. Mug still close to her lips, she peered over the rim of it and up to him once more. His lips were downturned into a slight frown, and another sigh parted from him. "But, I know that you're right. Worrying keeps putting us in this mood, whatever it is. It just feels ..."

"Bleh," he finished for her, which received a light chuckle from her. Hearing the sound from his wife, he smiled a bit and returned his gaze to her fully. "That's better."

"Right back at you." Her smile remained a little bit longer before she took another sip of tea and relaxed as the soothing beverage traveled down her throat. When she placed the mug back down, she almost went to check the numbers again, but her husband stole the pen from her and returned her attention to him. "(D/n)." She held out her right hand.

"Not right now. Today's your day off, our day off, and I've let you hold yourself up here for far too long." He placed the pen in his grey flannel shirt pocket. "Now, do I have to carry you up?" he asked with a teasing smile.

A slight pout crossed her lips before she grabbed her tea and stood up from her chair. "You bring me tea, and then you have me move." She rolled her eyes playfully. "You should've waited until we were upstairs first."

"Then, I wouldn't have gotten your attention since you know very well what that tea means." She paused, and gave him a lasting stare. A hearty chuckle parted from him. "I'm surprised that you didn't smell them." As if on cue, she sniffed the air with her nose, and she came out from behind the desk within seconds. "And, you say that our daughter didn't inherit your sweet tooth." She scoffed and waved her free hand dismissively as she stepped up the stairs. Smiling, he followed her up, glad that the atmosphere was changing even if it only was for a little bit.

Once she was on the second floor, she paused and looked towards the table in the living room. A plate full of fresh ginger cookies rested there, and a childish smile grew on her lips before she set down her tea and seated herself on the couch. Absentmindedly, she patted the spot next to her as she leaned forward and grabbed one of the cookies. It didn't take long for her to bite into the sweet treat, and it was as though the exhaustion and worry from before melted away, which was just what her husband desired for.

Sitting down beside her, he reached over and grabbed a cup of tea himself, which had been placed on the table for him. As his wife continued to nibble on the cookie, he grabbed the remote and switched on the television; though, he made sure that it wasn't on the news. They didn't need any of that kind of information right now. So, he switched over to their movie provider and found a comedy movie that they both would enjoy.

When he went to check with his wife, though, his eyes briefly looked out the window since it was behind the side of her face. For a second, he swore that he had seen someone with a hoodie out in the cemetery. It was the day still, so family members were allowed to come in and visit their loved ones; however, the figure had been staring straight ahead. The remote almost dropped from his hand, and his wife noticed his rapid change in mood.

"What's wrong?" she asked, following his gaze outside the window. There was no one in that section of the cemetery. He furrowed his brows before he rubbed his eyes. It didn't aid his mind that the creature could move immensely quick, and it was entirely plausible for him seemingly to have disappeared. A pit in his gut formed, and he stared towards the television again.

"I thought that ..." He trailed off, but his wife understood where his thoughts were traveling. (F/n) hadn't been with him if that was him. Maybe, it really was a figment of his imagination. But if it wasn't, what did that mean? A knock on the front doors caught their attention, and (d/n) froze. His wife did as well, and she was grateful that she had finished her cookie. The knocking continued, indicating that they weren't hearing things. "... I'll get it."

Getting up, (m/n) grabbed his right hand and shook her head. "I'm going with you." He hesitated before he nodded and gave her a grateful smile. She intertwined her left hand with his right, and he started to head towards the front doors. The knocking didn't grow louder, but it did continue. Once they were at the bottom of the steps, they approached the door with caution. (D/n) reached out and opened the front door carefully, just as a deathly white hand was extending outwards to commit to the same action.

With one of the doors open, both of (f/n)'s parents froze in their places. Before them, the creature stood, but he looked extremely different from how they last had seen him. His nearly white locks were longer and messier while his very pale blue optics carried extreme exhaustion. In fact, his whole body screamed the definition of tired and lack of self-care. The creature's clothes had gotten baggier on him, and dark circles were under his eyes.

Neither parent could speak, though, since he held up his left hand to silence them and stepped inside. They were surprised also that he didn't even have his sunglasses on in the middle of the day, but his eyes were squinted a little; however, he showed no signs of being in pain from that. As his left hand dropped, though, so did he. Exhaustion from running for about two days straight on very little energy finally caught up to him, and he passed out on the floor.