“Are you Harold Bishop, Keagan’s father?”
The Horror pulses, growing slightly in size. Well, shit.
“Did it answer you?” Keagan asks.
“In a way, yes. It doesn’t have the ability to fully form yet, but it will in time. It’s learning constantly.”
“So is it my dad?”
“Was. I believe so, yes.”
He nods, his expression perking up. “Can you ask it questions then?”
“I can, but it’s difficult to assess the answers outside of yes and no.”
His brow crinkles. “You’re not a medium?”
“No. I told you what I am.”
“Yeah, but I have no frame of reference for that. Can you talk to the dead or not?”
“Not in the way a medium can. I have the ability to see it and interact on some level when it’s still in this state. As it strengthens, I’ll be able to engage more.”
Keagan nods, biting his bottom lip. “I want to know if he killed people. If what they say is true. I want to know.”
I glance up at the ball of light on the ceiling. It changes color, taking on a darker shade and becoming almost gray. I can’t be sure that’s a positive response to Keagan’s questions, but I am sure the Horror is aware of Keagan’s presence.
“We may never know,” I explain. “My job is to get it out of here and return it to the Below. Now is the opportune time, while it’s weak.”
“No,” Keagan says. “I need to know the answers. If it’s already here, can’t we do something?”
“What you’re suggesting is allowing the Horror to manifest fully, which I cannot stress enough is very dangerous. It’s capable of anything at that point.”
“What do you mean?”
“Listen, Keagan, we don’t yet know why the Horror escaped or what its intentions are, but we do know that it’s not safe. It’s not benign. The very fact of where it escaped from is proof of that.”
“Was he, like, in hell or something?”
“It’s not the hell you may have learned about in religious settings, but it’s a place the worst souls go. It’s not easy to escape, so any Horror that does is very determined. It’s here for a reason, and I would rather we not find out what it is. It could hurt you, Keagan.”
“But…” He shrugs. “A part of my dad is still in there, right?”
“Yes. It carries your father’s memories to some extent, some lingering life experiences, and as I said before, the core of his essence. The part of him that ruled everything else.”
“So that part was bad, right? That’s why he went where he did?”
I nod. “Yes.”
Keagan drags his hand through his long tresses, pressing his full, plush lips together as he gazes up at the ceiling. “What you’re saying is that it’s possible it came here to hurt me?”
“Yes. It’s also possible it came to hurt someone else, but chose to stay here due to your connection.”
“And there’s no way it came for any other reason? No way it just wanted out and won’t hurt anybody?”
“Not in my experience, which is lengthy.”
Keagan nods. “I see.”
