Chapter 2

Hannah's POV

At 11:30 PM, after trekking along muddy, treacherous mountain roads for three grueling hours, I finally parked my car outside the old church.

Pushing open the heavy oak doors, a stench of ancient mildew mixed with cheap embalming fluid immediately hit my face.

The hall was packed with dozens of locals. They wore faded, tattered suits and rough homespun dresses, their faces sallow and grim beneath the dim glow of incandescent bulbs.

On a cheap easel by the entrance stood a poorly taken photo of the newlyweds.

The groom was tall, wearing a suit stained with grayish-black soot. But the way his head connected to his shoulders was bizarrely unnatural—like someone had forcibly photoshopped a head onto a corpse.

The worst part was his eyes—hollow, murky, and radiating a dead, unblinking vacant stare.

"A girl dressed like you doesn't belong around these mountains."

A low, raspy voice suddenly spoke from beside me. I whipped my head around. An old woman in a floral skirt was standing barely two feet away.

"I'm Hannah, Maddie's friend," I said, putting on my best claims-adjuster-handling-a-difficult-client tone. "I’m here for the wedding. Where is she?"

The old woman’s cloudy eyes looked me up and down, her mouth twisting into a grotesque smile. "I am Mrs. Ruby. Rules are rules, girl. Before the Midnight Covenant Ceremony begins, the bride receives no outsiders."

"I don't care about your ceremony. I just need to see her for five minutes."

Mrs. Ruby ignored what I'd just said. "Wait here. When the time comes, whoever's supposed to show up will show up."

I scoffed but didn't argue. Grab the money and get out. I wasn't going to spend a second longer in this hellhole than I had to.

I muttered something about needing the restroom and pushed past her before she could answer. Inside, the pale fluorescent lights flickered erratically, and the exhaust fan whined like a dying animal. I stood at the water-stained mirror and splashed cold water on my face.

"Hannah—"

A hollow, ghostly voice echoed right next to me.

I snapped my head up—in the mirror, Maddie was already standing right behind me.

No footsteps. The door hadn't even opened. She looked like she had seeped right out of thin air.

"Do you know how to walk without creeping up on people?!" I spun around, ready to snap at her, but the words died in my throat.

The Maddie standing before me made my scalp crawl.

She wore an old, Victorian-style white lace wedding dress that reeked of mothballs. A massive, heavy silver cross hung around her neck, so large it looked like it was bending her spine. But the most horrifying part was her face—heavy, ghastly pale foundation had dried and cracked, chunks of powder flaking off with every movement.

"Hannah, you really came..." She stared at me unblinkingly.

"Save the theatrics." I pinched my thigh hard to suppress the shiver running down my spine, putting on a cold face and holding out my hand. "Where’s the money?"

No creepy atmosphere in the world was scarier than the debt collection bills I got in the mail every month.

Maddie’s mouth stretched stiffly into a smile that looked worse than crying.

Suddenly, she grabbed my wrist.

Piercingly, bone-chillingly cold.

It felt like grabbing dead meat that had been sitting in a morgue freezer for three days. The cold shot straight through my veins and right into my heart.

My reflex was to pull away, but her grip was like a vice. With immense effort, her other hand reached into a hidden pocket of her dress and pulled out a bulging brown manila envelope.

"Fifty thousand in principal... plus two years of interest." Maddie’s voice wavered like a chewed-up cassette tape. "Take it, Hannah. We are even."

I snatched the envelope from her. The heavy, unmistakable feel of hundred-dollar bills confirmed it was real.

"At least you have a shred of conscience left," I said coldly. "But if you think this buys my forgiveness? Keep dreaming."

Before I even finished speaking, from the shadowy corner of the restroom, a tall man stepped out without a sound.

He was wearing the same ash-stained suit from the photo out front. He walked to Maddie’s side, his movements as stiff as rusting machinery. He didn't turn his head—because his cervical spine seemed welded shut. When he looked at me, his entire upper body and shoulders had to forcibly twist toward me together.

"Wyatt..." Maddie leaned against him, her voice utterly lifeless. "This is Hannah."

Wyatt extended a rough, massive hand and practically forced me to shake it. The same bone-piercing coldness.

"She has to come with me now," he spoke, his voice wheezing like air squeezing through a broken bellows. "It is time."

I quickly shoved the manila envelope into my crossbody bag, clutching it tightly to my chest. "Maddie, this money buys out whatever was left between us. Whether you live or die from now on, don't ever call me again."

Maddie didn't answer.

From beneath the heavy, cracked white powder on her face, a single drop of cloudy tear seemed to roll down. Wyatt’s rigid arm clamped onto her shoulder, and the two of them turned, walking straight into the pitch-black corridor on the other side of the restroom.

I let out a long breath, fixed my hair in the mirror, and pushed the restroom door open to leave—only to practically collide with Mrs. Ruby.

She stared straight at me, her cloudy eyes looking past my shoulder, dead-locked onto the empty restroom behind me.

"Girl, what were you doing whispering in there all this time?" The old woman frowned, her shriveled lips trembling, her voice dripping with hair-raising dread—

"Just now... who exactly were you talking to?"