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“And Kaitlyn’s had enough of this,” John adds.

“You’re not one of us,” Ari snaps. “Don’t talk like you are.”

“Yeah, well, maybe Scott’s right,” John says. “We should stop meddling before we end up dead.”

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed,” Ari says, “but we’re in this already. Do you really think this Shyan guy is going to leave us alone now?”

Scott shakes his head. “We can try. We can try to put this behind us.”

“You’re a coward,” Ari says, his voice low. He turns to John. “So are you.”

“I’m trying to do what’s best for Kaitlyn, and I think you should be doing the same. She needs help.”

Kaitlyn looks up. “Get out of here,” she whispers. “Get away from me. Judas.”

John’s face falls. “Kaitlyn, please—I’m trying to help you.”

She gets to her feet and walks across the mattress, stepping down and standing before John. Her face is that of someone heartbroken and sick. She is pale and thin, her eyes huge in a sunken face.

“Are you?” she asks.

He lifts his hands to touch her arms, but she flinches, and Ari steps closer. “Yes, I am,” John says. “Please… Falcon…”

“I just don’t know,” Kaitlyn whispers, her eyes filling with tears. “What you said… I can’t afford to believe you.”

Ari steps up beside Kaitlyn. “Everyone out. Let’s let her rest. Come on.”

John’s eye twitches, and he stares at Ari with a locked jaw before finally turning away. At the door, he hesitates and then he disappears into the main basement, heading for the broken window.

Scott glances at Kaitlyn. “I’m going to talk this over with Naida. If she’s strong enough. Think about it, Kaitlyn. Think about just giving up. Please.”

He exits via the stairs.

Ari releases her. “Get some sleep. I’ll keep watch outside for you.”

He makes to leave, but she grabs his sleeve.

“Ari—”

“Are you okay?”

She shakes her head. “No. But I can’t—”

“It’s okay. Here.” He puts his arms around her again, and she exhales into his chest.

“I think John’s the Shyan.”

The words seem to leave her mouth against her wishes and then she stiffens.

“John? Who told you that?”

She covers her mouth, shakes her head. “I’m tired.”

He kisses her head. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry you have to go through this.”

Kaitlyn swallows. “Haji gave me a charm for protection.”

She walks over to her bag, pulls out what must be the bind from Haji—it looks like a knotted rope-braid, coiled with ribbon and clumps of wax—and tries to hang it from the edge of the door. Her arms are weak, however, and she isn’t tall enough.

She begins to cry, still attempting to hang the bind, but Ari gets to his feet and takes it from her hands. “I’ll do it. Kaitie, you have me. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere. You’re not alone.” He hugs her to him tightly, and she continues to cry into his shirt.

I hate fucking crying.

He leads her to the mattress, and they sit down.

After Kaitlyn has cried herself into exhaustion, Ari looks down at the bind in his hands. “What is it?”

“It’s me.”

Ari’s jaw clenches. “What have you done?”

“What I had to.” And she slides the beanie off, revealing the damage. Her hair, once long and luminous, has been cruelly shorn, leaving a jagged crop behind.

“Kaitie… your hair?”

“Yeah… it was a bit of a shock when he told me the price. He wove my hair into the charm.”

Ari looks down at the bind with a new expression. It is clearly made from her hair, though some of it seems to have been soaked in something, darkening strands here and there to amber.

“Let’s hope it protects you, then,” he says.

[END OF CLIP]

101 42 hours before the incident

Diary of Kaitlyn Johnson

Monday, 31 January 2005, 6:34 am

Basement

He must have come while I slept, because now I know.

In a journal entry dated 31 January 2005, Kaitlyn practices several drafts of a letter, which she states she will give to Ari. It is evident by the confused writing that it cost her something to put down on paper all she thought. The bottom of the page has been torn off, presumably the version of the note she delivered to Ari.

dear ari

please come see me right away, something happened

i think i know who the shyan is

i don’t want to do this–i can’t believe it. i won’t.

i need to talk to you about john.

A return note is slipped inside the back of the journal beside the Claydon diary entries, and is presumed to be Ari’s reply.

IS IT HIM?

A reply in writing has never been discovered. Anyone under the age of eighteen should not read the rest of this report without parental consent.

102 26 hours before the incident

Naida Camera Footage

Monday, 31 January 2005, 10:57 PM

Basement

The Dead House - _51.jpg

The basement camera clicks on as John throws Ari into the room. Presumably they have been arguing in the stairwell, but as Ari opens his mouth to say something, John yells, “You son of a bitch!” and hits him hard across the face.

“John—” Ari tries to yank free, but John hits twice more, and Ari spits blood.

Baring teeth smeared crimson, Ari knocks John in the stomach with his shoulder before landing two of his own punches across John’s face. He falls against the far wall, collapsing onto his left knee, and Ari kicks him hard in the stomach. John grunts but seems otherwise unaffected, and the two wrestle, landing blows and shoving back and forth.

Footsteps echo from some way off, but neither seems to notice because John’s large hands close around Ari’s throat.

Ari jerks and yanks at his arms, face bleeding red and then tingeing purple; John’s strength seems overwhelming. At that moment, Kaitlyn rounds the corner, saying “What is going on—” and stops, dropping her journal. She screams.

John! John, stop it! Let him go!

John doesn’t react—maybe he doesn’t hear—but when Kaitlyn launches herself forward, pulling on his arms despite her injuries, he grunts and shoves her back with one hand, the other still clasped firmly around Ari’s throat. She staggers, but tries again, this time jumping onto his back. Again, he throws her off, more forcefully now, so that she is, for a moment, winded.

Ari, foaming at the mouth, manages a startled choke, and his eyes roll back in his head. Kaitlyn moves onto her side, coughing, and then forces herself to her feet.

“Please!” she cries again, hitting John, her efforts futile. Panicked, she scrambles into the shadows. We hear metal scrape against concrete, then Kaitlyn runs towards John, yelling, her arms raised high, and brings down the object she is holding to strike his neck.

John jerks upwards, a tiny grunt escaping his lips, and stumbles away from the now-unconscious Ari. Kaitlyn jumps back as though shocked at what she’s done.

“I’m sorry, but stop it!” she cries. “Just stop!”

He turns to look at Kaitlyn, then reaches up to touch his neck. His hand comes away crimson.

He staggers.

He falls onto his knees.

Kaitlyn drops the knife. The same knife that took Naida’s voice. The sound echoes across the room.

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