E-book - "The Last Dance"

Chapter 1: An Unexpected Choice

Zhang Yisheng sat in the corner of his apartment, the deep night casting a gray hue over the entire room. His fingers lightly tapped on the job application form on the desk, his heart filled with unease and confusion. At that moment, he felt as if the whole world was slipping away from him. He had once had dreams—his life’s work for many years—planning weddings, creating the most beautiful memories for countless couples. Yet, a sudden business crisis had shattered his company, leaving his dreams broken like glass.

The messages on his phone screen stung deeply—collaborators backing out, financial chains collapsing—each message a painful reminder that his career seemed to have hit a dead end. The work he once loved had now become a heavy burden on his chest.

He set down his phone, stood up, and walked toward the window. Through the glass, he could see the lights of the city. On the streets below, people rushed about aimlessly, like busy ants unable to find their destination. Zhang Yisheng took a deep breath, knowing he, too, was trapped in this sense of confusion.

At that moment, his gaze settled on an unfamiliar shop outside the window. It was a funeral service company, and the simple words on the sign strangely caught his attention. Wedding planning and funeral ceremonies—the contrast seemed vast, yet they didn’t feel so distant to him. He thought about his understanding of emotions from his years in wedding planning. Perhaps these experiences could help him step into a new field—a field both unfamiliar and challenging.

In that instant, Zhang Yisheng made a decision. He picked up his phone and quickly searched for the company, determined to change the trajectory of his life. He knew this path would be full of uncertainties, but with nowhere else to turn, it might just be his only choice.

Chapter 2: The First Collaboration

A few days later, Zhang Yisheng arrived at Li Wendao’s funeral service company. Situated in an unassuming old building in the city center, the company’s exterior was simple, even a bit rundown. Stepping into the dimly lit lobby, the atmosphere felt cold and mysterious. Zhang quickened his steps, his heart filled with both nervousness and apprehension, as if he had entered an entirely new world. This place felt completely different from the wedding planning companies he used to know. The silence here carried an indescribable weight.

The walls of the lobby were lined with black-and-white photographs capturing moments from past memorial ceremonies. The solemn expressions of the people in the photos—some bowed their heads, others stared blankly—made Zhang’s heart tighten. He was used to the laughter and joy of weddings, but here, every corner seemed to tell stories of loss and sorrow.

The receptionist at the front desk noticed him but showed no particular emotion. Calmly, she asked, “How may I help you?”

Forcing a small smile, Zhang replied hesitantly, “I’m here to apply for the funeral director position.”

She glanced at him briefly before returning her gaze to her computer screen, seemingly unsurprised by his response. “Please wait a moment; Manager Li will be with you shortly.” Her tone was flat, lacking any warmth, which only added to Zhang’s unease. He suddenly felt as though he’d stepped into an entirely foreign world.

Taking a seat, Zhang tried to stay calm, though his anxious thoughts were difficult to suppress. The air here felt heavy, as if every corner was braced for something significant to happen. The ticking of a clock on the wall added to the stillness, its sound amplifying the tension in the room. Zhang unconsciously tapped his fingers on the chair’s armrest, his heartbeat quickening in rhythm with the clock.

Before long, a middle-aged man in a gray suit entered the lobby. His steady steps and composed demeanor exuded an air of confidence. Offering a slight smile, the man extended his hand. “Hello, I’m Li Wendao,” he said in a calm, reassuring voice.

“Hello, Manager Li.” Zhang Yisheng stood up and shook his hand.

Li glanced through Zhang’s résumé briefly before looking up, his expression serious. “From your background, your experience in wedding planning could be a great asset for this job. This role shares many similarities—it requires excellent organizational skills and a deep understanding of emotions.”

Zhang nodded slightly, feeling a glimmer of hope. Though he knew almost nothing about the funeral industry, at least his experience with emotions and organization might prove useful.

Putting down the résumé, Li’s tone grew more somber. “This job isn’t just about organizing funerals. Our role is to help people find solace during their most painful moments, providing emotional support alongside logistical services. It requires total commitment—not just managing tasks but guiding families through their grief.”

Zhang felt a chill run through him. The work sounded far heavier than he’d imagined. Yet, he also knew he had no other choice but to press on. “I understand, Manager Li,” he said, his voice low but determined.

Li nodded slightly. “If you’re willing, we’ll start you with simpler tasks so you can gradually learn the industry.”

Zhang’s emotions were mixed. He knew this wasn’t just a career shift but a test of his resolve. Perhaps this would be his path forward—a road full of challenges and transformation.

Chapter 3: The Test of Empathy

Zhang Yisheng’s first task at the funeral company was assisting in preparing for a small memorial service. The client was an elderly woman mourning the loss of her husband. As Zhang entered her home alongside Li Wendao, he felt an inexplicable heaviness in the air.

The living room was filled with photographs of the couple's happy moments, their smiling faces frozen in time. The widow sat quietly in a chair, her frail hands clutching a small photo frame. Her eyes, though red from crying, still held a distant tenderness.

Li Wendao gently introduced Zhang. “Mrs. Liu, this is Zhang Yisheng, our new assistant. He will help with your husband’s memorial arrangements.”

Mrs. Liu looked up at Zhang and nodded faintly. “Thank you for coming,” she said softly, her voice trembling.

Zhang struggled to find the right words. He had once excelled at comforting nervous brides and stressed-out families, but now, facing such profound grief, he felt utterly inadequate.

Li seemed to sense his unease and smoothly took over the conversation, asking Mrs. Liu about her preferences for the memorial. “What kind of flowers did Mr. Liu like?” he asked warmly.

Mrs. Liu’s expression softened slightly. “Lilies. He always said they reminded him of purity and peace.”

As Li continued to discuss details, Zhang quietly observed, taking mental notes on how Li managed to provide comfort without being intrusive.

Later that evening, as Zhang and Li left the house, Zhang finally spoke up. “Manager Li, how do you always know the right thing to say?”

Li smiled faintly. “It’s not about knowing the right thing to say; it’s about listening. Grief isn’t something you can fix—it’s something you guide people through. The more you listen, the more you’ll understand how to help.”

Zhang pondered these words, realizing that his role here would be vastly different from his previous job. Weddings celebrated beginnings; funerals honored endings. But both required empathy, patience, and an understanding of human emotions.

Chapter 4: Facing His Own Past

As Zhang grew more accustomed to the work, he found himself reflecting on his own life. The stories of loss and love he encountered each day stirred memories he had long buried.

One evening, as he organized photos for a memorial, he came across a family portrait that reminded him of his parents. It had been years since he’d visited their graves, too consumed by his career to make time. Now, surrounded by stories of loss, he felt a deep pang of guilt.

Li noticed Zhang’s distracted demeanor and asked, “Something on your mind?”

Zhang hesitated before replying, “I was just thinking about my parents. I haven’t been to their graves in a long time.”

Li nodded understandingly. “Grief doesn’t follow a schedule, Zhang. Sometimes, it waits quietly in the background until we’re ready to face it.”

Inspired by Li’s words, Zhang decided to visit his parents’ graves the next day. Standing before their tombstones, he felt an overwhelming mix of emotions—regret, sorrow, and a newfound sense of connection. For the first time in years, he spoke to them, sharing his struggles and hopes for the future.

The experience left him feeling lighter, as if he’d taken a small step toward healing. He realized that helping others through their grief might also help him confront his own.

Chapter 5: The Unexpected Request

One rainy afternoon, Zhang Yisheng and Li Wendao returned to the funeral home after handling a memorial service. As they stepped inside, the receptionist approached them.

“Manager Li, there’s a man waiting in your office. He says it’s urgent,” she whispered.

Li raised an eyebrow but nodded, motioning for Zhang to follow. Inside the office sat a man in his 40s, his face pale and his eyes darting nervously.

“Mr. Zhao, correct?” Li greeted, extending a hand.

“Yes,” the man replied, his voice trembling. “I… I need your help. My wife passed away two weeks ago, but I—” He hesitated, as though grappling with words too heavy to utter. “I didn’t give her a proper burial. She’s still… at home.”

Zhang’s eyes widened in shock, but Li’s expression remained calm. “I understand this must be very difficult for you, Mr. Zhao,” Li said gently. “Can you tell me why you waited?”

Tears streamed down Mr. Zhao’s face. “I couldn’t let her go. She was my everything. But now…” He paused, visibly shaking. “I can’t bear to see her like this anymore.”

Li placed a comforting hand on the man’s shoulder. “You’ve taken the first step by coming here. We’ll help you give her the farewell she deserves.”

Zhang remained silent, observing how Li handled the delicate situation. This was unlike anything he’d encountered before. The balance between compassion and professionalism was a tightrope Zhang wasn’t sure he could walk.

Chapter 6: The House of Shadows

The next morning, Zhang and Li accompanied Mr. Zhao to his home to retrieve his wife’s remains. As they entered the dimly lit house, the air was thick with a musty smell. Zhang’s chest tightened with unease.

In the living room, a covered figure lay on a makeshift bed adorned with wilting flowers and burnt incense sticks. Mr. Zhao knelt beside it, tears falling freely. “I couldn’t let her leave,” he murmured.

Li knelt beside him. “You’ve honored her memory by keeping her close, but it’s time for her to rest peacefully.”

With Mr. Zhao’s reluctant approval, they carefully prepared his wife’s body for transport. Zhang couldn’t help but feel a pang of sorrow for the man, whose love had turned into an agonizing inability to let go.

As they left the house, Zhang asked Li, “How do you stay so composed? Doesn’t it ever feel… overwhelming?”

Li smiled faintly. “Every case leaves a mark, Zhang. But if I let the weight of one stop me, I wouldn’t be able to help the next. You learn to carry it without letting it crush you.”

Chapter 7: A Lesson in Letting Go

The funeral service for Mr. Zhao’s wife was small but poignant. As the casket was lowered into the ground, Mr. Zhao stood with trembling hands, clutching a letter he had written.

“Goodbye, my love,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “I’ll cherish you forever.”

Zhang watched as the man finally released years of pain. It was a moment of profound closure, both heartbreaking and beautiful.

Later, Zhang approached Li. “I didn’t realize how much strength it takes to help someone through this process. It’s… humbling.”

Li smiled. “You’re learning, Zhang. Empathy isn’t just about feeling—it’s about being there when someone needs you most.”

Chapter 8: The Invitation

Days turned into weeks, and Zhang Yisheng grew more confident in his role, though the weight of each story lingered in his mind. One quiet afternoon, as he was sorting through documents, Li Wendao approached him with an envelope in hand.

“Zhang,” Li said, sliding the envelope across the desk, “this came for us. It’s an invitation to conduct a ritual cleansing at an old estate in the countryside. The family specifically requested our services.”

Zhang opened the envelope and scanned the letter. The handwriting was neat, almost too perfect, and the language formal. The family’s request seemed ordinary—an ancestral home needing a ritual to dispel lingering spirits—but something about the tone unsettled him.

“Isn’t this… outside our usual scope?” Zhang asked hesitantly.

Li nodded. “It is. But sometimes, tradition and respect for the deceased extend beyond funerals. I thought you might find it interesting. Care to join me?”

Despite a nagging sense of unease, Zhang agreed.

Chapter 9: The Forgotten Estate

The estate was vast but shrouded in decay. Ivy crept up its walls, and the windows were fogged with years of neglect. As Zhang and Li approached, an elderly man greeted them.

“Thank you for coming,” he said, his voice gravelly. “This house has been in our family for generations, but strange things have happened since my mother passed away. We believe her spirit hasn’t found peace.”

Inside, the air was thick with an unsettling stillness. Family portraits lined the walls, their subjects staring blankly into the void. A chill ran down Zhang’s spine as they entered a room where the family had prepared an altar for the ritual.

Li instructed Zhang to light incense while he recited prayers. The room seemed to darken as the ritual progressed, the flickering candlelight casting eerie shadows. Zhang could feel an inexplicable tension, as though the house itself was watching.

Suddenly, the air grew colder, and the candles flickered violently. The elderly man gasped. “She’s here,” he whispered, clutching his chest.

Chapter 10: The Unseen Presence

Li remained calm, his voice steady as he continued the prayers. Zhang, however, was frozen in place, his heart pounding. A faint whisper seemed to echo in the room, a voice too soft to discern but undeniably present.

The elderly man pointed to a corner of the room. “There! That’s where she always stood!”

Zhang forced himself to look, but the corner was empty. Still, an overwhelming sense of sorrow enveloped him, as though the air itself mourned.

Li finished the ritual with a final chant, and the room grew still. The oppressive atmosphere lifted, and the candles burned steadily once more.

“It’s done,” Li said softly, turning to the elderly man. “Your mother’s spirit has moved on.”

The man wept, bowing deeply. “Thank you. I feel… peace for the first time in years.”

As they left the estate, Zhang couldn’t shake the experience. “Was it real?” he finally asked Li.

Li smiled enigmatically. “Real or not, what matters is that we brought comfort to the living—and perhaps to the dead as well.”

Chapter 11: The Uneasy Return

The journey back to the city was quiet, each man lost in his own thoughts. Zhang Yisheng couldn’t escape the feeling that something was left unresolved. The ritual had been successful, at least outwardly, yet he felt as if he had glimpsed something in the shadows, something that didn’t quite belong.

Li Wendao seemed unfazed, his stoic demeanor as calm as ever. “You’re thinking about the house, aren’t you?” he asked after a long silence.

Zhang nodded. “Yes. There was something… strange. Even after the ritual was finished, I felt the presence of that spirit, like it was still watching me.”

Li glanced at him, his eyes sharp but thoughtful. “You’ve been in this line of work long enough to know that not all spirits are easy to let go of. Some linger, even if they don’t have a place in this world anymore. It’s not just about the ritual—it’s about belief, about closure for both the living and the dead.”

Zhang couldn’t shake the feeling that Li knew more than he was letting on. He had always been a man of few words, but his cryptic remarks had a weight that Zhang couldn’t ignore.

Chapter 12: The Cryptic Message

Two days after the ritual, Zhang returned to his office to find a new letter waiting for him. It was written on the same elegant paper as the invitation to the estate, but this one bore no return address. Inside was a short, chilling message:

"The house is never empty. The one you helped is not the one who needed help."

Zhang’s hands trembled as he read the words. He felt a wave of dread wash over him, but he couldn’t make sense of it. He showed the letter to Li Wendao.

“This came today. Do you know who might have sent it?” Zhang asked, his voice betraying his unease.

Li took the letter and examined it closely, his face unreadable. “I’ve seen this type of message before. It’s a warning. Someone is trying to make you second-guess your actions.”

“Who would do such a thing?” Zhang asked.

Li handed the letter back to him. “That’s the question, isn’t it?”

Chapter 13: The Unseen Hand

The message haunted Zhang for days, gnawing at his mind. He spent countless hours researching the history of the family from the estate, trying to uncover any link that might explain the cryptic warning. But every lead turned cold, and his frustration mounted.

Then, one evening, as he walked home through the dimly lit streets, Zhang felt an odd sensation—he was being followed. His footsteps echoed in the empty alleyways, and he could almost hear the soft padding of another pair of feet behind him.

He spun around, but there was no one there. Yet the feeling lingered, like eyes were watching him from the shadows. His heart raced as he quickened his pace, his mind racing with possibilities. Was it the spirit from the estate? Or was someone else trying to send him a message?

Suddenly, a figure emerged from the darkness, stepping out of the alley in front of him. Zhang froze, his breath catching in his throat.

“Looking for answers, Zhang?” The voice was cold, unfamiliar, yet there was an unmistakable edge to it.

Zhang could only stare at the figure, the words dying in his throat. Who was this person? What did they know?

Chapter 14: The Shadowed Truth

Zhang’s heart thudded loudly in his chest as the figure stepped closer, the streetlight casting long, eerie shadows on the ground. The stranger was tall, dressed in a dark coat that blended into the night. The face, partially obscured by the brim of a wide hat, was unreadable.

“Who are you?” Zhang asked, trying to steady his breath.

The stranger’s lips curled into a faint, almost mocking smile. “Someone who has been watching you, Zhang Yisheng. Someone who knows exactly what you did.”

Zhang’s mind raced. He had encountered many strange and dangerous people in his line of work, but there was something about this man that made the air feel heavier. “What do you want?”

The stranger took another step forward, his boots scraping against the pavement. “I want you to understand the price of what you’ve done. You think the ritual ended the curse, but it only delayed it. There are forces you cannot control, Zhang.”

Zhang’s gaze narrowed. “I did what I was hired to do. If there’s something else, then you’re wasting my time.” He took a step back, his instincts warning him to flee, but the stranger’s next words rooted him to the spot.

“You’ve meddled with powers beyond your comprehension. The house you left behind is still its prison, and you are its key.”

Zhang’s pulse quickened, but he held his ground. “What are you talking about? The spirit was bound. It can’t return.”

The stranger’s laugh was dark and hollow. “The spirit was never the true threat, Zhang. The house—its very foundation—is cursed. It’s a vessel for something far older. Something that even death cannot bind.”

Zhang’s mind reeled, the pieces of the puzzle not fitting together. He had thought that he had helped free the trapped spirit. But now… now he was unsure of everything.

“Why are you telling me this?” Zhang demanded.

The stranger’s smile deepened. “Because I need you to do something for me. Something that will ensure that the darkness you’ve awakened doesn’t consume everything.”

Chapter 15: An Offer in the Dark

Zhang’s mind raced. The stranger’s words gnawed at him, filling his thoughts with questions and dread. He wanted to walk away, to dismiss this man as another crackpot, but there was something in the man’s eyes—a glimmer of truth.

“What do you want me to do?” Zhang asked, his voice steady despite the turmoil inside.

The stranger stepped closer, his face now fully illuminated by the flickering streetlamp. His eyes were cold, unblinking, as if they saw through Zhang’s every thought. “There is one final step to the ritual. One final action to ensure the house remains sealed. But it requires you to go back.”

Zhang’s stomach twisted at the thought of returning to the estate, the memories of the spirit still fresh in his mind. He had thought that he was done with it, that his work there had been finished. But now, it seemed, there was more to uncover.

“You want me to go back?” Zhang repeated, disbelieving.

The stranger nodded. “Not just go back. You must complete the ritual. The one you didn’t finish.”

Zhang’s brow furrowed. “You’re asking me to go against everything I’ve been taught. No one—no one—has ever spoken of such a thing.”

The stranger’s lips twisted into a dark smile. “That’s because they don’t know. But you will. You’ve already seen the cracks. Now you must face them.”

Zhang stood there in the silence, the weight of the man’s words pressing on him. The choice was his—walk away and pretend none of this ever happened, or confront the darkness that was pulling him back. His instincts told him to run, to escape the shadows that threatened to swallow him whole. But something deeper, something buried beneath his fear, told him that this was the path he had to take.

“I’ll do it,” Zhang said, his voice firm despite the unease that coiled in his gut. “But I need to know more. What is it you’re asking me to do?”

The stranger leaned in, his face inches from Zhang’s. “You’ll understand when you’re inside the house. When you confront what’s truly been lurking there.”

Zhang nodded slowly, a sense of inevitability washing over him. The mystery was far from over. It was only just beginning.

Chapter 16: The Return

The night was still as Zhang stood at the gates of the estate once more. The house loomed ahead, dark and silent, its windows like eyes that watched him from the shadows. Every step he took toward it felt heavier, as if the ground itself was pulling him down.

The stranger’s words echoed in his mind: “You must complete the ritual. The one you didn’t finish.”

Zhang wasn’t sure what to expect when he entered the house. The air felt colder now, thicker with an almost tangible tension. The walls seemed to close in around him, and for the first time since he had entered the house, he felt the full weight of the curse pressing on his chest.

As he made his way down the hall, his thoughts turned back to the ritual—the words, the gestures, the binding of the spirit. He had thought that was enough. But now, something told him that he had only scratched the surface.

The final step awaited him. And only he could decide whether to face it, or leave the darkness behind.

Chapter 17: The Hidden Chamber

Zhang’s footsteps echoed through the silent halls of the estate, each step heavier than the last. The dim light from his lantern barely illuminated the vast, oppressive darkness surrounding him. The house, once a place of mystery, now felt like a prison, its walls closing in with every breath he took.

He moved with caution, the weight of the stranger’s cryptic words pressing on him. “The ritual you didn’t finish,” he repeated in his mind, but he had no idea what that could mean. He had done everything as instructed before, binding the spirit, ensuring it could never escape. Yet here he was again, summoned back to complete something that had been left undone.

Zhang reached the doorway to the room where it all began—the place where the spirit had first revealed itself to him. The room was unchanged, its once-foreboding atmosphere now eerily quiet. The old wooden floor creaked beneath his feet, and the dust in the air seemed to dance around the lantern light. But it was what lay beyond the door that drew his attention now.

A hidden door, nearly invisible against the dark wood of the far wall, beckoned him. It was as if the house had been holding this secret for centuries, waiting for him to return. His heart pounded as he approached it.

Zhang placed his hand on the cool surface of the hidden door. His fingers traced along the edges, and he found a small, almost imperceptible latch. With a soft click, the door opened to reveal a narrow staircase that spiraled down into the darkness below.

He hesitated, but something deep inside him urged him forward. The air around him seemed to thrum with energy, as if the house itself was alive, watching, waiting. Zhang took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the unknown pressing down on him. He had no choice now but to descend.

Chapter 18: The Ritual Unraveled

The stairs led him deep beneath the estate, into a cavernous, subterranean space. It was unlike anything Zhang had seen in the house above. The walls were covered in ancient symbols and carvings, each one twisted and grotesque. A faint, flickering light came from a brazier at the far end of the room, illuminating an altar made of black stone.

Zhang stepped closer, the air growing colder with each movement. On the altar lay a large, weathered book, its pages yellowed with age. The symbols on the cover matched the ones he had seen throughout the house. This was no ordinary book—it was a record of something far older than the estate itself.

He reached for the book, his fingers trembling slightly as he opened it to the first page. The writing was in a language he did not recognize, but the symbols seemed familiar. As his eyes scanned the pages, something inside him stirred, a faint memory surfacing. The ritual… it was there, outlined in meticulous detail. But there was something he had missed.

The book described a second phase of the ritual—a dark, forbidden act that could either seal the curse forever or unleash it upon the world. Zhang’s heart raced as he realized the truth. The spirit he had bound was merely a fragment of something far more dangerous—a force older than time itself, waiting for its moment to rise.

Zhang closed the book with a snap, his mind reeling. He had made a terrible mistake. He hadn’t completed the ritual properly. And now, he was the only one who could stop it.

The ground beneath him trembled, a low rumble that seemed to come from deep within the earth. The house was reacting to his discovery, the curse awakening once again.

Chapter 19: The Unraveling

The trembling intensified, the room shaking violently as if the very foundations of the estate were being torn apart. Zhang stumbled back, his mind racing. The ritual was incomplete, and the forces he had thought he could control were now slipping from his grasp.

He glanced around, searching for anything that could help him. His eyes fell on the brazier, its flame flickering in a strange pattern. It wasn’t just fire—it was a conduit, a link to whatever ancient power had been trapped within these walls.

Zhang approached the brazier, his pulse quickening. The symbols on the walls seemed to glow with an eerie light, their meaning now clear to him. This was the final step. He had to finish what he had started, or the darkness would consume everything.

With trembling hands, Zhang reached into the brazier and took hold of the flame. It burned cold and sharp, but he didn’t let go. The pain shot through his body, but he gritted his teeth and focused on the task at hand. The symbols on the walls began to pulse, the room shifting around him. The air felt thick, charged with a power that threatened to swallow him whole.

He began to chant the words from the book, the ancient language flowing from his lips despite the fear that gripped him. The room responded, the symbols on the walls shifting and swirling, the darkness pressing in closer. Zhang’s body trembled, but he didn’t stop. He had no choice.

As he spoke the final words, a blast of energy surged through the room, and the house seemed to groan with the force of it. The ground cracked beneath him, and a deep, guttural roar echoed from somewhere deep within the earth.

For a moment, everything went black.

Chapter 20: The Price of Power

Zhang awoke to silence. The trembling had stopped, and the air was still. Slowly, he sat up, his body aching, his mind clouded with confusion. The brazier was now cold, its flame extinguished. The altar, the symbols, the book—they were all gone. It was as if the house had swallowed them whole, erasing every trace of the ritual.

But something was different. The weight of the curse had lifted. The oppressive atmosphere that had haunted the estate for so long was gone. The house, once a prison, now seemed… empty. The darkness had receded, leaving only the hollow remains of its presence.

Zhang stood, his legs shaky, and looked around. The room was now bathed in a soft, warm light. He had done it. He had completed the ritual. But at what cost?

As he made his way back up the stairs, he felt a strange sense of finality. The house had been sealed, its secrets buried beneath layers of time. But Zhang knew that the darkness had not been eradicated—it had merely been contained. The forces he had dealt with were too ancient, too powerful to ever be fully destroyed.

And as he stepped out into the night, Zhang realized that he would never truly be free of the shadows. They would always linger, just out of reach, waiting for the next person to come along and awaken them once again.