The Illinois highway had softened under the blazing sun, warped waves of heat rising from the asphalt. The black Impala sat outside a shabby motel, its hood still sizzling with heat.
Sam leaned forward in the passenger seat, elbows on his knees, fingers rapidly refreshing pages on his laptop. Ava's photo filled the screen, the girl's smiling face seeming especially distant in the harsh white glare. His brows knotted together, bloodshot veins spreading like spiderwebs through his eyes. His voice was hoarse. "A month, Dean. A month! Where the hell has Yellow Eyes hidden her?"
Dean leaned against the car door, one foot braced against a tire, his phone held to his ear. He glanced at his brother, who looked ready to snap, and swallowed. Only after the person on the other end finished speaking did he hand over the phone, keeping his tone as casual as he could. "A lead from Ellen. Connecticut, the Pierpont Inn. Two people have died there in the last three weeks, and the deaths were freaky-a deliveryman's head was twisted all the way around, with a doll beside him sporting the same broken neck. Then a lawyer hanged from the living room ceiling fan. And guess what? A little doll in the dollhouse was hanging exactly the same way."
The back door clicked open, and Bai Haorui poked his head out. He wore a blue shirt and clutched the Five Emperor Coins, the copper gleaming with sweat from his palm. He jumped out, walked over to Sam, and slapped a yellow paper talisman onto his shoulder. It clung to the fabric with a faintly cool touch. "Enough. Keep wearing yourself down like this, and you'll turn yourself into a dried corpse before you find Ava or Yellow Eyes shows up." As he spoke, he tapped Sam's laptop screen. "Work a case. Better than running around like a headless chicken here. At least it'll keep your mind off that crap for a while."
Sam stared at the Clear Heart Talisman on his shoulder, lightly brushing the twisted symbols drawn on its surface. A bitter smile tugged at his mouth. "Thanks, Haorui." He closed his laptop and took a deep breath. The air carried the dusty smell of the highway into his lungs, somehow easing his taut nerves a little. "Let's go take a look."
The Impala sped down the road. By the time they entered the small Connecticut town, the sun was sinking in the west. The Pierpont Inn stood hidden among old oak trees, its red brick walls mottled and peeling, its black wrought-iron railings covered in rust and tangled with dead vines. The inn's heavy solid-wood front door let out a shrill creak when pushed, as though something were rusting and rotting inside its hinges.
The hallway was dim. Dust-covered oil paintings hung on the walls, with antique dolls of every description arranged beneath their frames. They wore yellowing lace dresses and stared with glass-bead eyes that reflected an eerie, cold light in the gloom, as though silently watching every intruder. The old wooden floor creaked underfoot. Every step felt like treading on someone's bones.
A woman in a gray business suit came out to greet them. She looked to be in her thirties, her hair immaculately styled and her light makeup carefully applied, but nothing could hide the exhaustion in her eyes. The fine lines at their corners stood out in the dim light. She looked the three of them up and down warily. "Who are you?"
Dean immediately flashed the roguish smile he considered irresistible and removed his sunglasses, revealing eyes touched with amusement. "Hello, ma'am. We're antique buyers. We heard your inn had quite a collection, so we came to have a look-especially at these dolls. You can tell they're old. They should fetch a good price."
Bai Haorui said nothing. His gaze settled on a nearby doll in an old-fashioned dress. Its face was paper-white, its lips painted an eerie scarlet. He discreetly touched the hem of its dress, and a bone-deep chill instantly shot through his fingertip, as though he had touched ice. His brows drew together slightly. His fingers swiftly formed a hand seal, and he said quietly, "There's resentment clinging to this doll. It's no ordinary antique."
Susan Thompson's expression shifted slightly. Before she could speak, shuffling footsteps came from the stairs. An elderly attendant approached, his back bent, his gray-white hair like a clump of snow. Deep, furrow-like wrinkles covered his face. He wore a uniform vest washed almost white and clutched a set of keys that jingled as he walked. "Ma'am, have the guests arrived?" His voice sounded as though sand were lodged in his throat.
"Sherwin, take them upstairs for a look." Susan's voice was somewhat stiff.
Sherwin nodded and turned to lead the three upstairs. The wooden staircase swayed as though it might collapse at any moment. Sam's gaze fell on a string of strange symbols carved into the banister. The grooves were deep, as though cut into it one stroke at a time with a knife. He stopped and took out his phone to photograph them. "Mr. Sherwin, what are these symbols?"
Sherwin paused. A complicated emotion flickered in his aged eyes, but his tone was as flat as though he were discussing something trivial. "Mrs. Roth carved them. She said... they could protect the inn."
Sam leaned closer, lightly running his fingers over the symbols, his frown deepening. He opened the reference database on his phone to compare them, and his expression darkened. "This is a voodoo pentagram protection charm." He paused, his voice turning grave. "But this spell is a double-edged sword-it can keep evil spirits out, but it can also... imprison them."
Before he finished speaking, a sharp, piercing scream suddenly rang out downstairs, shattering the inn's silence.
Their expressions changed, and all three turned and rushed downstairs. The living room was darker than the hallway. The ceiling fan turned slowly, humming. Beneath it hung a man's corpse, his neck stretched long, his tongue protruding, his face as purple as a rotten eggplant. Several dolls lay scattered below his feet. One small doll in a suit hung from the dollhouse's miniature ceiling fan nearby in exactly the same position.
A little girl crouched beside the dollhouse. She looked about five or six, with fluffy hair and round cheeks, and wore a pink dress. In her arms she held a doll in an old-fashioned dress, its frighteningly white face identical to the one by the stairs. She looked up at the scene without a trace of fear, only a little innocent confusion, and murmured, "Maggie said he shouldn't have come to tear down our home. He's a bad man, so he has to be punished."
Susan rushed into the living room. The moment she saw the body, her face went white. She ran to the child, covered her eyes, and picked her up, barely keeping herself from vomiting. Her voice shook. "Call the police... hurry!"
The police came and went. The police tape was removed, and the sirens gradually faded at the edge of town. Their conclusion was "accidental death"-a lawyer, overwhelmed by stress, had hanged himself at the inn.
Susan blocked the three of them at the inn's entrance, her expression icy, the wariness in her eyes now hostility. "You're not antique dealers at all." Her voice held suppressed anger. "Tell me, what exactly do you want? I don't care what you're after. Stay away from my daughter, and stay away from my mother!"
Dean tried to explain, but Susan shoved him before he could get a word out. He stumbled, watched her resolute retreating figure, and sighed helplessly.
The three had no choice but to hole up in the little diner across from the inn. Three bottles of beer sat on the greasy table alongside several plates of pork sandwiches grilled black. The bread was as hard as stone, and the greasy pork gave off the rank smell of cheap meat.
Bai Haorui picked up a sandwich, took a bite, and chewed twice before complaining in disgust. "Can't American food have a little variety? Sandwiches or burgers, every single day. I really miss sweet-and-sour ribs, pork trotter rice, grilled skewers, hot pot. I'm almost forgetting what they taste like."
Sam said nothing. He picked up his beer and tipped his head back for a long swig. The cold liquid slid down his throat but failed to quell the heat in his chest. He drank bottle after bottle, his eyes growing increasingly unfocused. The bottle swayed in his hand, and he didn't even notice beer spilling all over him. "No sign of Ava alive, no body if she's dead..." His words were slurred and heavily nasal. "Am I really that useless? Dad said I'd become a monster. Is it just a matter of time?"
Bai Haorui frowned, snatched the bottle from his hand, and drained it in one go. "Drinking won't solve anything." His voice was calm but carried an undeniable force. "You're not afraid of becoming some monster. You're afraid of losing control, of hurting Dean, of letting everyone down." He pulled a Soul-Subduing Talisman from his pocket and held it out to Sam. The symbols on the paper glimmered faintly under the light. "This can steady your mind. Stick it on your chest when you've got nothing else to do. You really do think too much."
Sam looked at the talisman, his eyes slowly reddening.
Dean sat beside them without saying a word. Looking at his brother's reddened eyes hurt like needles in his heart. He knew Sam's pain. He knew nightmares woke him every night, knew he stared at files on those "Special Children" until dawn. But he didn't know how to comfort him. All he could do was quietly stay by his side and deal with unnecessary trouble when he got drunk.
Drunk, Sam lunged over and clung to Dean's arm, burying his head against his shoulder. His tears, mixed with the smell of beer, soaked Dean's shirt. "Dean," he choked out like a helpless child, "promise me. If Yellow Eyes really takes control of me, you have to kill me. Don't hesitate. Don't go soft."
Dean's expression froze. His lips moved, but when he tried to speak, his throat felt stuffed with cotton. Not a word came out. He could only reach out and hold his brother tightly, his chin resting on Sam's head. His shoulders trembled slightly. Tears slipped silently from the corners of his eyes and finally fell onto Sam's hair.
Bai Haorui sighed, stood, and helped Sam up, draping his arm over his own shoulders. "Come on. Back to the inn." His voice was low, carrying a barely perceptible heaviness.
Moonlight spilled over the inn's roof, stretching its shadow long and thin, like an enormous doll with its mouth open.
The next morning, Sam woke with a splitting headache. The hangover was miserable. Rubbing his temples, he sat up and realized he was lying in a guest room at the inn. Dean sat in a chair nearby with a cup of coffee. Seeing him awake, he handed it over. "You're up? Have some coffee. Sober up."
Sam accepted the coffee and took a sip. The bitterness cleared his head a little. He looked at Dean as memories of the night before came flooding back, his expression awkward. "Last night, I..."
"Forget it," Dean interrupted, his voice a little hoarse. He pulled a folded note from his pocket. "Sherwin slipped me this. Said the inn's been open for over eighty years. Seventy years ago, the owner had two daughters. The older one was Roth, and the younger one was Maggie. Maggie drowned in the inn's pool."
Sam's attention immediately shifted to the note. He unfolded it to reveal Sherwin's crooked handwriting. Then he took out his phone and brought up the photo of the voodoo symbols he'd taken the night before. Pointing at the lines, his eyes grew brighter. "I've got it. This isn't an ordinary binding spell. It's a 'Symbiosis Talisman.'" He paused, then explained, "Roth used her own life force to imprison Maggie's vengeful spirit in the inn. That way, she protected Maggie from evil spirits outside while also preventing her from going out and hurting people."
He raised his head, a note of certainty in his voice. "Roth had a stroke two months ago. The spell weakened, and Maggie's vengeful spirit went out of control."
Just then, brakes screeched outside the inn, followed by Susan's scream.
All three immediately rushed outside. In the open space in front of the inn, a black sedan was ramming Susan relentlessly. Its front end struck her legs again and again. She lay on the ground, curled up in pain, her face deathly pale. The driver's seat was empty.
"Damn it!" Dean cursed, rushing over and wrenching the car door open. He tried to pull out the ignition key, only to find there wasn't one.
Sam reacted fast, rushing forward and dragging Susan out from under the wheels. They rolled across the ground, dodging another impact.
Susan lay on the ground, gasping, still badly shaken. Looking at the three of them, she finally broke down. Tears mixed with the dust on her face, leaving two dark tracks. "Maggie... Maggie was my grandmother Roth's younger sister." Choking back sobs, she revealed the secret buried in her heart. "Seventy years ago, Maggie was playing in the pool. Roth was busy talking to friends that day and didn't watch her... Maggie drowned. Roth always thought it was her fault. She used voodoo spells to keep Maggie's vengeful spirit in the inn. She said she'd stay with her forever."
Her voice grew quieter, heavy with despair. "I wanted to sell the inn and take Taylor and Grandma away to start a new life. But Maggie wouldn't let us... She's afraid we'll abandon her."
Bai Haorui crouched, took out the Five Emperor Coins, and tossed them toward the inn. They struck the ground with a clear chime, then all began spinning before settling firmly in the direction of the backyard. He stood, his expression grave. "Maggie's resentment is concentrated at the pool. Her true body should be there."
The three followed Susan inside, only to discover Taylor was missing too. Sherwin ran over from the end of the hallway, anxiety filling his aged face. "Taylor said... she said she was going to play with Maggie. She went toward the pool!"
A wire fence surrounded the backyard pool, its rusty mesh hung with several battered warning signs. The pool water was filthy, green as moss, with fallen leaves and trash floating on its surface. It gave off a rotten stench.
Taylor was by the pool. Her pink dress was wet and clung to her body, her hair a tangled mess. Maggie's vengeful spirit stood behind her, a little girl of about seven or eight in a yellowed, old-fashioned dress. Her skin was paper-white, her lips a lifeless bluish gray, her eyes hollow as two dry wells. Her hand pressed firmly against Taylor's head, forcing her underwater. The murky water swallowed Taylor's head, and the little girl's struggles grew weaker.
"Play together forever..." Maggie's vengeful spirit spoke in a drifting voice that seemed to come from far away, carrying an icy chill. "Never be apart..."
"Taylor!" Susan screamed and rushed forward, only to be thrown back by an invisible force and fall to the ground.
Sam tried to rush forward, but Bai Haorui caught him. "Her obsession is too strong. Charging in will only enrage her." His voice was deep. He took a Soul-Subduing Talisman from his pocket, bit his finger, and swiftly drew a Spirit-Calming Spell on the paper with his blood. Soaked in blood, the symbols gave off a faint red glow. "This will suppress her resentment for a moment and buy you time to save her. Get ready!"
He drew a deep breath and began chanting an obscure incantation. Low and powerful, it echoed through the silent backyard. He hurled the Soul-Subduing Talisman at Maggie's vengeful spirit, and the paper burst into dazzling red light in midair.
Maggie's vengeful spirit screamed. Pain flashed through her hollow eyes, and her hand on Taylor loosened slightly.
"Sam!" Bai Haorui roared.
Sam immediately charged forward and scooped Taylor out of the water. The little girl choked up several mouthfuls of water, coughing as she clung tightly to his neck.
Just then, a faint call came from the inn, aged and weak. "Maggie... Maggie..."
Everyone turned. Sherwin was pushing a wheelchair out of the inn. An elderly woman sat in it, her hair entirely white, her face covered in wrinkles, her eyes cloudy as though veiled in mist. Dressed in dark clothes, she leaned stiffly against the wheelchair. It was Mrs. Roth. Her gaze settled on Maggie's vengeful spirit, her withered fingers trembling slightly as though stroking something.
Maggie's vengeful spirit also turned to look at Roth in the wheelchair. For the first time, something stirred in her hollow eyes.
"I'm sorry..." Roth's voice was soft, yet everyone heard it clearly. "I've kept you waiting so long..."
Her memories drifted back to a summer more than seventy years ago. The sun shone brightly, and the pool water was crystal clear. She and Maggie sat beside it, their feet in the water, kicking up sprays of droplets. Maggie held a newly made doll, her eyes curving with her smile. "Can we stay together forever?"
"Of course," she answered with a smile, reaching out to ruffle her younger sister's hair.
But the wind had been strong that day, and Maggie's doll fell into the pool. In her hurry to retrieve it, her little sister slipped and fell into the water. She had been inside talking to friends. By the time she discovered what had happened and pulled her sister out, Maggie was no longer breathing.
"Why didn't you watch your sister? She's so little, and you left her alone in the backyard!" Those were her mother's words when she saw her younger sister's body.
That nightmare haunted her dreams for a lifetime.
"I'll stay with you..." Roth's breathing grew weaker. She slowly raised her hand toward Maggie. "Forever... I won't ever let you out of my sight again. It was all my fault."
Maggie's vengeful spirit looked at her, tears slowly welling in her hollow eyes. They were transparent, vanishing the instant they touched the ground. Her figure began to turn translucent, like smoke scattered by the wind.
"Sister..." she called softly, a trace of release in her voice.
As her voice faded, her figure dissolved completely into the air.
Mrs. Roth's hand fell, and her eyes slowly closed. A faint, peaceful smile rested on her face.
Sunlight broke through the clouds and spilled across the pool. Even the murky water seemed a little clearer.
Taylor sat on the inn's steps, holding the doll in its old-fashioned dress. Her eyes were red, but she wasn't crying. Susan crouched beside her, gently stroking her hair, her voice soft as water. "Maggie's gone to Heaven. She's with Grandma now. She'll never be lonely again."
Sam stood nearby, watching the little girl's profile, a tangle of feelings in his heart. He walked over to Dean and spoke quietly, his voice carrying a barely perceptible tremor. "Dean, do you remember what I told you last night?"
Dean shuddered and turned to meet Sam's eyes. There was fear in them, and confusion, but also a trace of resolve. Something seemed to lodge in his heart, aching terribly. He opened his mouth, but in the end, only one sentence came out. "I remember... But I hope that day never comes."
Bai Haorui leaned against the Impala's door, watching the inn's front door slowly close. He took out the Five Emperor Coins. The bluish-black aura around them had completely dispersed, restoring their original coppery yellow. He slipped them into his pocket and turned to the brothers with a faint smile. "The vengeful spirit is at rest. Don't look so grim. There's an old saying in China: when you reach the mountain, you'll find a road; when the boat reaches the bridge, it'll find its way through. People can always come up with solutions!"
The three got into the car.
Sam gazed blankly at the scenery sweeping past the window.
Bai Haorui sat cross-legged in the back seat, swaying with the car, silently reciting the Scripture of Clarity and Stillness. His breathing followed the scripture, and gradually, he forgot both himself and the world.