[Continuation of Chapter 78]
“The phantom caller is in her house.”
Dryzza bit her fingernails, her frustration unspoken but obvious. Sai and Esmeralda, though understanding her plight, were bound by strict protocols, unable to offer her any solace. The phantom caller’s ominous warning of a catastrophe within three days weighed heavily on them all, but procedure left them paralyzed.
Zach, usually confident, was equally restrained. Despite his awareness of the supernatural stakes and their past encounter with the phantom caller, he heeded Tomoya’s stern warning to avoid further involvement. Yet, with human lives at risk, abstaining felt like betrayal.
The phantom caller’s threat was not just a warning; it was a grim countdown that demanded action. The team wrestled with the tension between duty and morality, knowing that their inaction could lead to tragedy. Tomoya’s caution offered safety but no solutions, forcing them to consider breaking ranks to confront the encroaching darkness.
The air in the library was heavy with the scent of aged paper and the muffled sound of distant whispers. Sai’s voice cut softly through the quiet ambiance, "We’ve been combing through these records for a week and still found nothing," he murmured, his frustration tempered by the solemnity of the space. Dryzza, seated at a long oak table, stared intently at a weathered ledger, her fingers absently tracing the faded ink as if willing to reveal its secrets.
Valentine paced near the shelves, his gaze scanning the spines of ancient volumes. "Do you think there could be hidden compartments on these shelves?" he suggested, his voice barely above a whisper. His question hung in the air, mingling with the soft rustle of turning pages. He set his laptop on a nearby table and attempted to trace the Phantom caller's digital footprint. Yet, as soon as they entered the library, the signal vanished, as though the walls themselves repelled their technology.
Meanwhile, Esmeralda moved methodically between rows of dusty tomes, her eyes scanning for signs of recent disturbance. The library's grand architecture seemed to mock their efforts, its towering shelves and intricate carvings concealing whatever they sought. She paused, however, when she noticed Dryzza’s uncharacteristic stillness. Dryzza’s attention was fixed on a section of the polished floor beneath the central reading table.
"What’s on your mind? Did you find something?" Esmeralda asked, her voice a cautious murmur. She approached Dryzza carefully, not wanting to disrupt her train of thought in the hallowed silence.
Dryzza glanced up briefly before returning her gaze to the floor. "It’s odd," she muttered, crouching to run a finger over the surface. She examined the fine layer of dust—or rather, the absence of it—and rubbed her fingertips together as if the texture could speak. "This library has been untouched for decades. Dust should cover every inch of this floor, and yet this spot looks recently cleaned."
Esmeralda leaned closer, her curiosity piqued. "You think someone’s been here? Recently? Perhaps, the caller?" she suggested, her tone low but deliberate, as though speaking louder might invite the very presence they feared. The others exchanged uneasy glances, the weight of her words sinking in. It was a possibility none of them could ignore, but also one they didn’t want to face without proof.
Dryzza shrugged lightly, though her eyes betrayed her growing suspicion. "Who knows," she murmured, tightening her gloves with methodical precision.
"But there’s only one way to find out." She dropped to her knees, the old wooden floor creaking beneath her weight, and began knocking lightly on the planks. Each knock echoed dully through the room, but she persisted, searching for that one sound that didn’t belong. Her instincts proved sharp when her fingers finally paused over a hollow spot.
"Sai, do you have a flathead screwdriver?" she called without looking up. Her voice carried a mix of urgency and calm, a contrast to the tension that had thickened in the air.
She knew time was critical, but haste could ruin everything. Sai didn’t waste a second, bolting downstairs and out to his car to retrieve the tool. His footsteps echoed against the worn staircase as he returned, his breath slightly labored.
"Here," Sai said, handing over the screwdriver with a nod. Dryzza took it carefully, her movements deliberate as she pried up the wooden floorboards. The wood groaned in protest, but eventually relented, revealing a small hidden compartment. The group collectively leaned closer, curiosity mingled with dread.
Dryzza’s gloved hand reached into the dark recess, and when it emerged, it held a burner phone—identical to the ones the phantom caller was known to use.
She examined it with a critical eye, flipping it over as though it could reveal more than its grim presence already did. "Just as I thought," she muttered, her voice a blend of satisfaction and unease. "The phantom caller was indeed here."
The scene at Samantha’s old house grew colder as Dryzza and the team sifted through its haunting emptiness. They had searched every crevice of the house, hoping for a breakthrough, but the burner phone remained their only discovery. It was frustrating—an untraceable device with no fingerprints or clues. They were left with questions and no one to pursue, which cast a shadow of futility over their efforts.
Zach’s team finally made the decision to leave, concluding that the case had hit a dead end—for now. Standing by her car, Dryzza let out a frustrated groan as her eyes lingered on the silhouette of the abandoned house. Despite their findings—or lack thereof—something about the house still gnawed at her instincts.
Meanwhile, Zach had to redirect his focus to the reopened case of the murdered children, a grim reminder of the city’s dark underbelly. Simultaneously, reports of missing persons from another jurisdiction began to surface, stretching their resources thin.
Dryzza, while aware of these new developments, found herself unable to divert her focus from Samantha’s case. The overlap of mysteries added to the weight they carried, underscoring how overburdened their team had become.
When Zach dismissed the team for the day, Dryzza chose to stay behind. The others drove off, leaving her in the silent company of her thoughts and the ominous house. She scrutinized every detail of the property, convinced there was more to uncover. Her determination consumed her so much that she failed to notice someone approaching until he spoke.
Tomoya’s voice broke her concentration, his words laced with reproach. “I thought I told you not to get involved with this mess?”
Dryzza’s startled reaction quickly shifted to annoyance as Tomoya leaned against her car, his calm demeanor contrasting her frustration. His gaze lingered on the house, as though he, too, was assessing its secrets.
Tomoya’s presence was unexpected, but it wasn’t unwelcome. Dryzza recognized an opportunity—if anyone could provide insight into the phantom caller or the house’s mysteries, it was him. She bristled at his critique but held back her sharp retort, knowing she needed his help more than she cared to admit.
When Tomoya questioned their return to the house, Dryzza hesitated. Admitting the details of their investigation could mean breaching protocols. Yet, she couldn’t shake the feeling that he might hold answers they desperately needed.
“I can’t say much,” she replied carefully, her resolve wavering. Despite her caution, she toyed with the idea of revealing their findings, believing Tomoya might help connect the dots they were missing.
Tomoya observed her with a knowing look, sensing the inner conflict behind her guarded demeanor. “You’re in over your head, Dryzza,” he said, his tone softening. “But if you’re going to chase ghosts, you’d better be prepared for the consequences.”
There he goes with his cryptic warnings once again. The house seemed to watch them, its secrets buried beneath layers of time and deception.
"Pray tell, what brings you here?" Dryzza inquired at last, her tone laced with an edge of curiosity.
Tomoya offered nothing more than a nonchalant shrug. "I can't say for certain myself, but I have this inexplicable sense that I need to caution you once more."
Dryzza's response was sharp, her voice tinged with impatience. "Yes, yes, I’m well aware!" she retorted. "I’m not oblivious to the fact that I’m supposed to 'stay out of it'—to steer clear of whatever machinations you and Mr. Takahashi are entangled in." She paused, emphasizing her next words with deliberate gravitas. "However, in case you’ve forgotten, my role is one of assistance. I am bound by duty to offer help to anyone in need, and that includes you and your cousin."
"Of course," Tomoya chuckled softly. "Actually, there's something I need to tell you..."
"Hmm?" Dryzza’s gaze shifted toward him. Tomoya's eyes remained locked on Samantha's house for a moment before drifting to the car parked beside Dryzza’s.
"Do you mind?" he asked.
Dryzza remained silent but followed Tomoya to his car. He opened the door for her, allowing her to slide into the passenger seat before taking his place behind the wheel.
"What exactly are we going to discuss?" Dryzza asked, her voice filled with curiosity.
Tomoya's response was a question in kind. "You're well aware of the supernatural events that have been unfolding around us, aren't you?"
After her journey to the past, Dryzza saw no reason to deny the truth of his words—she nodded.
"Two days from now," Tomoya continued, "a portal between the living and the dead will open, one that could claim human lives. Initially, I believed we were the ones who had inadvertently opened it. However, after examining the grimoire you recovered and comparing it to the grimoire Shane owned, I’ve realized the door was always meant to open. It's not us who should have opened it, but rather, we are the ones tasked with closing it."
Dryzza studied Tomoya, her expression of confusion. His words made little sense to her. All she knew was that the Phantom caller had warned them they had only two days left.
Could the time Tomoya spoke of be the same as the warning given by the caller?
"I'll let you in on a little secret," Tomoya said with a dry chuckle, his fingers rhythmically tapping the steering wheel. "Just in case we all meet our end on that fateful night."
Dryzza’s curiosity piqued, though she wanted to ask why he was revealing this now. Still, the secret itself held her focus.
"The portal which is bound to open responds to the wishes of those who are near it," Tomoya began, his voice low. "And among the three of us—Kathleen, myself, and my cousin Takumi—all we’ve ever wanted is to summon Shane... Samantha, back."
Dryzza's eyes widened. "W-What are you talking about?"
Tomoya glanced at her, gauging her reaction. "I believe you saw my cousin’s demon when you traveled to the past," he said.
Dryzza nodded hesitantly, recalling the ominous creature lurking in young Takumi’s shadows.
"People bound to demons are cursed," Tomoya continued. "Takumi nii-san is one of them... as was Samantha. The reason none of you have found any trace of her is simple: she has vanished completely from this realm. But two days from now, I’m certain she’ll return."
Dryzza stared at him, her confusion deepening. The pieces of the puzzle he provided felt impossible to connect, yet the gravity of his words left no room for doubt.
"W-Why are you telling me this now?" Dryzza stammered, her voice tinged with both confusion and unease.
Tomoya shrugged, a faint, humorless laugh escaping him. "I don’t know," he admitted. "I just have this feeling I might not make it. If I turn out to be right, no one else will ever tell you these things."
He paused, a wry grin spreading across his face. "Consider it a parting gift—something for your records, just in case. And besides, I owe you the grimoire's retrieval. Consider my debt repaid."
He laughed softly, but the weight behind his words left Dryzza unable to join him. Tomoya turned to her and smiled.
"We will entrust the safety of the people to you," he murmured, his tone calm yet weighted with responsibility.
"Wait—what exactly will happen that day... or night? When and where?" Dryzza's words tumbled out in a rush, her thoughts scrambling to keep pace with the flood of information. She wasn’t even sure what she should be asking.
"You’ll know," Tomoya replied quietly, his gaze distant. "An unmistakable sign will reveal itself."