*Chapter 3

Ghosts from the Past*

*POV: Ethan*

The air in the basement froze.

Lucas’s voice—soft, uncertain—echoed off the cold stone walls.

“Amara?”

Her eyes widened. I could see the shock ripple across her face.

I swallowed hard. The man standing in front of us wasn’t a ghost. He was real. Alive. And more dangerous than anything I’d imagined.

But how? The hospital said he died months ago.

She took a shaky step forward. “Lucas? How…?”

He raised a hand like to touch her, then stopped himself. His eyes flickered with something I couldn’t name. Guilt? Fear? Maybe both.

“I never wanted you to find this place,” he said, voice barely a whisper.

“I didn’t want to find you,” she said, voice trembling. “I wanted answers.”

He looked at me then, suspicion burning in his gaze.

“You should leave,” he said, tone sharp.

I stepped forward, planting myself between them. “We’re not going anywhere. Not until you tell us the truth.”

Lucas’s jaw tightened. He looked exhausted—like carrying a lifetime of secrets was breaking him.

“Then listen carefully,” he said. “Because once you know, there’s no going back.”

---

The room felt smaller, darker.

Lucas took a deep breath and began.

“Crescent Hill wasn’t always empty. It was once a thriving town. But about ten years ago, something happened here. Something terrible.”

Amara’s fingers tightened around my arm.

“There was an experiment,” Lucas continued, eyes distant. “A secret government project called Seraph. They wanted to create something… powerful. Something to control memories and emotions.”

I glanced at Amara. This was bigger than either of us imagined.

Lucas’s voice dropped. “I was involved. I worked there. And I think… I think Amara was one of the subjects.”

She pulled back sharply, horror and disbelief mixing in her eyes.

“That’s impossible,” she whispered. “I’ve never been to Crescent Hill before.”

Lucas shook his head. “You were brought here as a child. Taken from your family. They wiped your memories to keep the experiment secret.”

“Why me?” Amara asked, tears starting to form.

Lucas looked away. “Because you were different. You had the gift they wanted to harness. Your art… it wasn’t just painting. It was a way to unlock memories locked deep inside you. Memories even they couldn’t erase.”

My head was spinning. This was beyond anything I’d heard in my entire life.

“How do you know all this?” I asked, voice low.

Lucas looked straight at me. “Because I tried to stop it. I tried to save her.”

He looked fragile, like a man who had carried a mountain alone.

“I recorded everything in this journal,” he said, nodding toward the coat I was still holding. “But the more I fought, the worse things became.”

Amara’s voice was barely audible. “So you hid the journal… hoping I’d find it someday.”

He nodded. “Yes. I hoped you’d remember. I hoped you’d be safe.”

“But I’m not safe here,” she said, voice trembling.

Lucas’s gaze hardened. “No, you’re not. They’re still watching. Still hunting.”

I stepped closer. “Who are ‘they’?”

Lucas’s eyes narrowed. “People who want to control everything. Memories, feelings, even the truth.”

A sudden noise made all of us freeze.

From the stairs came the sound of heavy footsteps.

“Get the journal,” Lucas hissed urgently.

Amara clutched the book tighter.

I moved toward the door, ready to defend her.

The footsteps grew louder, echoing off the stone.

“Run!” Lucas shouted.

We bolted up the stairs.

---

Outside, the cold wind hit us like a slap.

We didn’t stop running until the town was a blur behind us.

I looked at Amara. Her face was pale, her eyes wide with fear and confusion.

“What now?” she whispered.

“We find out who they are,” I said. “And why they want you.”

Lucas’s warning weighed heavily between us.

But I knew one thing for sure—

This was just the beginning.

---

*To be continued…*