Chapter 71: A Glimpse of the Unseen

Jason blinked, his breath catching in his throat as the warmth of the kiss, the weight of her tears against his chest, and the sound of her voice all dissolved like smoke in the air. The room came back into focus—the soft hum of the computer, the sterile glow of the desk lamp, and Kate, still seated a few feet away, her phone resting untouched on the table.

“Jason?”

Her voice broke through the haze, tinged with curiosity and confusion. She raised an eyebrow as she tilted her head, studying him.

“You good? You’ve been staring at me like a weirdo for a solid minute now.”

Jason shook his head quickly, trying to ground himself. The vividness of the imagined moment lingered in his chest, like a phantom ache, but he forced a smile.

“Yeah, sorry. Just... thinking. It’s been a long night.”

Kate leaned forward slightly, her skeptical gaze locking on him.

“Thinking about what? You had that far-off ‘existential crisis’ look on your face.”

Jason cleared his throat, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.

“The case. Just the case.”

Kate didn’t look convinced, but after a moment, she leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms.

“Uh-huh. Sure.”

Jason latched onto the first distraction he could find.

“You said you don’t want to go home... Why’s that?”

Kate glanced at him, her lips pressing into a thin line. She let out a slow breath, and for a moment, Jason thought she wasn’t going to answer. But then she said, “You’ve seen what’s been going on, Jason. Why even ask?”

Jason raised an eyebrow, his concern deepening. He hesitated, searching for the right words.

“I’m asking because I’m not sure I get it. Maybe it’s not as bad as it seems. Maybe it’s... I don’t know, your mind playing tricks on you.”

Kate’s laugh was short and humorless. She leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table. “If it’s all in my head, then how do you explain Ophelia seeing it too? And what about the night you saw it? Who—or what—do you think yanked us into the air, huh?” Her voice was sharp, her words cutting right through his half-hearted attempt to rationalize.

Jason froze, the memory flashing back to him: the weightless, terrifying moment when they were pulled upward, like invisible hands had grabbed them. He had no good answer. He wanted to tell her it was all a fluke, a trick of the mind, but he couldn’t lie to her face. Not after everything they’d been through.

“Jason,” she continued, her voice quieter now but no less firm.

“There’s something in my house. It wasn’t there before, not until the killer broke in. The night he came to my place? That’s when I saw it for the first time—the goat-headed... thing. And ever since, it’s been there. Watching. Waiting.”

Jason stared at her, his stomach sinking. He wanted to tell her it wasn’t real, that she was imagining things, but he couldn’t. He’d seen it too. He clenched his fists under the table, frustration swirling in his chest. He hated feeling helpless, hated not having a solution for her.

“So, what’re you going to do?” he asked after a moment, his voice softer now. “You can’t just live like this, Kate.”

She shrugged, trying to sound nonchalant, but there was an edge of exhaustion in her voice. “I’ve decided I’m going to stay in a motel for now. Safer that way.”

“A motel?” Jason frowned. “How long’s that going to last?”

“Until we solve the case, I guess,” she said simply, as if it were no big deal.

Jason ran a hand down his face, letting out a frustrated sigh. “Kate, that’s not a solution. You can’t just—”

“Jason, I can’t go home,” she cut him off, her voice sharp but cracking just slightly. “Not with that... thing there. I’ll figure out the rest later, but right now, this is the only option I’ve got.”

Jason studied her carefully, taking in the shadows under her eyes, the way her shoulders sagged ever so slightly. She was tough, no doubt about it, but even the toughest people had their breaking points. He couldn’t just stand by and let her carry this alone.

Instead, he nodded slowly, forcing himself to respect her choice. “Alright. But you’re not doing this alone. If anything happens—anything at all—you call me. I don’t care if it’s the middle of the night. Got it?”

Kate gave him a small, tired smile. “Yeah. Got it.”

Jason leaned back in his chair, exhaling deeply. His mind churned with thoughts, replaying everything she’d said. The motel might keep her physically safe, but it wouldn’t stop the nightmares. It wouldn’t chase away the fear that clung to her like a shadow.

As Kate turned her attention back to the phone on the table, Jason’s gaze lingered on her. He couldn’t shake the feeling that she was holding on by a thread, and it terrified him. He wasn’t sure what scared him more—the monster in her house or the thought of losing her to this darkness.

One thing was clear: he wouldn’t let her face it alone.

"Ophelia told me I should meet with the priest from the Yarrabura tribe," Kate said, her voice low but steady. "She says he’s some kind of expert in exorcism, has a solid reputation. Maybe he could help us."

Jason leaned back in his chair, his brow furrowed. Jason hesitated for a moment, unsure if he believed in any of this. But after everything they’d seen, what right did he have to doubt? "Then you should go. If what we’re dealing with is real—and not just something we can explain away—those kinds of creatures don’t mess around. They go after their targets hard."

Kate nodded slowly. "Yeah... I’ll see him." She glanced at Jason, her gaze lingering for a second longer than usual, then added, "One thing, though, Jason..."