Home / Fantasy / BANSHEE / Chapter 28
Chapter 28
Author: Ivana
last update2026-07-29 19:13:14

When I woke up the next morning, sunlight spilled lazily across my room, touching everything except the portrait on the wall. It hung there like it owned the place, silent and regal — except for the part where it used to not be smiling.

Now, her lips were faintly curved. Just a hint. Not enough to call it a grin, but enough to make my stomach twist every time I looked at her.

I threw a pillow at it. "Creepy. You're officially creepy now."

No response. Just that steady, knowing stare.

Downstairs
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  • Chapter 31

    The morning felt... normal. Peaceful it almost felt like an illusion. Not normal like perfect. Normal like quiet. Like the kind of silence that doesn't press against your chest. The kind that just exists. It was kind of crazy that I was starting to get used to the drama , the mystery and action in sherfield . It made me feel like there was something seriously wrong with me for kind of liking it.Sunlight slipped through my curtains in thin gold lines, dust floating in the air like tiny stars. For once, I didn't wake up with whispers in my ears or images burned into my mind. No visions. No shadows. No dread.Just me.I lay there for a while, staring at the ceiling, letting myself breathe.It felt strange how quickly chaos becomes routine. A few weeks ago, I was just the new girl in Sherfield. The quiet one. The weird one. Now I had friends. Real friends. People who knew my secrets and didn't run. People who stayed.That still felt unreal.Downstairs, I heard the low murmur of my dad's

  • Chapter 30

    When I woke, the sound of rain greeted me before I even opened my eyes.It wasn't heavy—just a steady rhythm against the window, like the world was whispering.The first thing I noticed was the air.It smelled of salt.Not sea salt, not from miles inland like Sherfield should smell—but real, oceanic salt. Sharp and clean, the kind that clings to your skin after a day near the tide.I sat up, heart thudding, and my eyes flicked toward the portrait.The woman in the painting—the one who had once looked mournful, then eerily alive—was different again. Her eyes glowed faintly, almost translucent, and around her neck hung a pendant that hadn't been there before: a shimmering piece of sea-green stone.Something about it drew me closer.I leaned in, breath shallow. The surface of the painting shimmered like wet oil, and when I reached out—foolishly, stupidly—my fingertips brushed something cold.I yanked my hand back.Water beaded at the edge of the frame, dripping down onto my desk."Okay,"

  • Chapter 29

    The morning after the festival, Sherfield looked calm—too calm. You'd never guess that the town square had been drenched in chaos, that a flame-shaped spirit had erupted from the bonfire, or that Samantha had controlled an entire wall of water to trap it.But I remembered every detail. The blue glow in her eyes. The heat that had curled through the air. The silence that followed when the spirit vanished.And, most of all, the woman from the portrait.When I'd opened my eyes this morning, that painting hadn't been the same. The woman's expression had changed. Her lips curved slightly—too slightly—to call it a smile, but enough to make my skin prickle. And beneath the frame, carved faintly into the wood, I'd seen new words burned into the grain:**"The sea never forgets its own."**No "debt owed." No cry for revenge. Just that one, haunting sentence.I didn't tell Dad. He'd just think I was overtired again.---At school, everyone was buzzing about the Blood Moon Festival—how the bonfir

  • Chapter 28

    When I woke up the next morning, sunlight spilled lazily across my room, touching everything except the portrait on the wall. It hung there like it owned the place, silent and regal — except for the part where it used to not be smiling.Now, her lips were faintly curved. Just a hint. Not enough to call it a grin, but enough to make my stomach twist every time I looked at her.I threw a pillow at it. "Creepy. You're officially creepy now."No response. Just that steady, knowing stare.Downstairs, the house was quiet. Dad had gone out early with Gran for her check-up, leaving a note on the counter about leftover pancakes. It should've felt peaceful, but it didn't. Everything about this morning felt... loaded. Like Sherfield itself was holding its breath.At school, I told myself I wouldn't bring up the whole "haunted painting" thing. Not everything that happened needed to be turned into another paranormal case, right?Yeah. That lasted about five minutes.---"Okay, you have to admit th

  • Chapter 27

    Morning sunlight streamed through my curtains, soft and golden, making Sherfield look almost deceptively normal. Birds chirped, dew clung to the grass, and for once, there were no whispers, no strange chills—just quiet. Dad and Gran were finally home.The sound of clattering dishes floated up from downstairs, mixed with Dad's cheerful voice. I smiled before even opening my eyes. After everything—the leprechaun, the lost spirit, the creepy well—I deserved one day that felt normal."Morning, sunshine," Dad said as I wandered into the kitchen. He stood by the stove in his worn T-shirt, flipping pancakes that looked slightly too crispy. "Gran's still resting upstairs. Doctor says she just needs to take it easy.""That's good," I said, kissing his cheek before snagging a piece of bacon. "You're cooking? Wow, the world really *is* ending."He laughed. "Don't jinx it, kiddo."I let myself relax just a little, but that spark of unease deep inside me refused to die. All the supernatural chaos

  • Chapter 26

    By the time the sun rose, I'd barely slept. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw that claw. The image stuck in my head like it was carved there, scratching and dragging me back to the nightmare.But I was done being scared. We'd faced angry spirits, haunted basements, and cursed wells. We weren't amateurs anymore — and I wasn't about to let a centuries-old curse win.At school, I met up with the group in the library again. Our usual table — same dust, same creaky chairs, same fluorescent light that flickered like it had stage fright.Lisa was already there, hunched over a pile of old town records. Her fingers moved fast, turning fragile pages like she was searching for buried treasure. Sam arrived with her thermos of coffee, still looking drained from the night before. Nick and Brandon followed — Nick with that usual smirk, Brandon with that steady, quiet intensity that made everything feel a little more serious."Okay," I said, pulling out my notebook. "We need to finish this. If that

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