***

9:05 AM, MAY 28TH, 1987

RENVALE POLICE INTERROGATION ROOM 01

As the camcorder blacks out one last time, Emmy looks up at the police officers, who are silent after having watched the last half of the recording—of having now seen what really happened in that house, what had happened to Sasha, to Quinn. That they would have to believe her, believe Ben, believe Quinn, believe all of them, now. Her face is haunted, with the trauma of what she has endured, but filled with determination and a hope they believe her, that they will make sure no one else can go inside that damned house.

EMMY

You believe me now? None of us killed Sasha—the demon did, and it plus the ghosts almost killed us and it nearly killed Quinn! If we didn't make it out, if I hadn't made it let go, she wouldn't even be in the hospital or alive right now! You need to close off the house—no one can back in, not ever again, if the demon actually manages to escape—

SMILING POLICE OFFICER

It's a good story, Miss. Torres. But do you honestly think we believe it?

EMMY

It's the truth! You saw it on freaking tape!

She gestures wildly to the camcorder, her facial expression twisted.

GRUFF POLICE OFFICER

Probably a trick of the camera. Your friend Ben did say it was an old one, kid.

EMMY

But it—

GRUFF POLICE OFFICER

Look, all three of you have been through something horribly traumatic. And while this doesn't really give us anything, at least its evidence to prove neither you, Ben Montgomery or Quinn Thompson murdered Sasha Richmond—least of all you, kid.

EMMY

You seriously don't believe me? Believe us? Believe the fucking recording?!

The looks they give her are enough to tell her they don't.

SMILING POLICE OFFICER

Thank you for your time, Miss. Torres. You and your friend are free to head home now. We'll contact you and Miss. Thompson when she's recovered about any more questions regarding last night and the Sasha Richmond case.

GRUFF POLICE OFFICER

Go home, have a shower, make something to drink. And try to get some rest, kid—you look exhausted.

They leave, Emmy slumping back in her chair, a frustrated sigh escaping her when they do—maybe to go and tell Ben the same thing they told her, that they can go home after being here for three hours since they arrived—since they went inside and saw Sasha's mangled body and took her and Ben in for questioning while Quinn went to the hospital, when Emmy had resisted and she had screamed about the demon, how they had to close off the house, that they hadn't killed Sasha, that she hadn't despite the blood, the knife, the flashlight.

But they don't believe her. They don't believe the camcorder. And honestly, what was Emmy expecting—a day ago, she wouldn't have believed it either.

But she isn't the same Emmy as she was yesterday, in the hours before that night, before she had been proven so very wrong about the existence of the supernatural. Not anymore.

As the security camera records Emmy sitting there until either the cops or Ben or her parents arrive and she can go home, something happens. Something very strange.

The camera starts glitching in and out, static noise crackling over it, the glitches wild and erratic. Just like the camcorder in the Morrow House, when the haunting had begun.

As it does, in one clear moment—though, with the glitching, any person watching the footage might excuse it as being part of the glitching—something happens to Emmy's eyes.

One second, they're brown. 

The next, they have turned wholly black, no pupil or sclera in sight. Just like the demon's eyes with the exception of the red pinprick.

Emmy turns her head and gives a cold glare to the camera with her wholly-black eyes, then it shifts into a smile, stretching over her face, as the camera glitches even more, the static loud, before it clears out. And when it does, Emmy's eyes have returned to normal, the smile and glare gone, the frustration back. No sign of any change whatsoever except for what the camera recorded between the glitching.

The door opens.

***

"Emmy?"

Emmy looked away from the camera. "Yeah?"

"Yours and your friend's parents are here to take you home," the gruff police officer told her.

"Great," Emmy said as she got out of the chair, making a harsh scraping sound on the floor. "I really need a shower. And forget last night ever happened."

The officer doesn't say anything as Emmy made her way to the door. She paused a second, glancing at the camcorder, before looking away—that is evidence now. Not like anyone is going to believe what it shows. That hope has been deflated.

After three hours since she'd been led in here, Emmy walked out of the interrogation room. As she did, the officer said, "Take care of yourself, kid. And I'm sorry, about your friend. You kids didn't deserve whatever happened to you last night."

Emmy's jaw tightened as she glared at him.

"No," she said coldly. "We didn't."

She stalked away, into the main room where Ben's parents are engulfing him in a tight hug. She can see her parents, who see her at once as her mom lets out a cry.

"Oh, mija!" she cried as she ran to her, pulling her into a hug, not caring about the blood stiffening her clothes, as her dad joined in. Emmy returned the hug, glad to be hugging her parents, as she looked over to Ben.

He meets her eyes, before looking away. Maybe because of last night, because they're grieving Sasha and Quinn's fate is still unknown even though she is recovering well—at least, well enough after losing her arm. Because they're all traumatised.

Or maybe he knows there is something off with Emmy now. That he knows the girl who walked out of that house isn't his best friend anymore. Not exactly.

Still, they don't say anything as they're led out of the station, Emmy's mother keeping a tight hold on her until they get into the car. When they do and start driving home—a tape on, because none of them want to hear the news, not when all it will be about is Sasha and last night and Emmy much rather try to forget about it when she knew she never will, not for a long time, probably not ever—Emmy leaned her head against the window, watching the streets blur by, her half-faded reflection, her dark brown eyes, looking maybe darker than they ever did in her life, verging on black. As in the reflection, something else began to appear beside her.

So lost she was in staring at her shifting eyes, at the second form slowly taking shape that seemed to only exist in the reflection, she almost didn't hear the voice calling her name.

"Emmy? ¿Mija?"

Emmy jolted. "Yeah, Dad?"

"We're almost home, Emmy," her dad told her.

"¿Estás bien, cielo?" her mom asked, brow creased in concern.

"I'm okay, Mom," Emmy assured as she looked out the window. As beside her reflection was the demon, though there was nothing in the back with her, that no one except her would see. Her eyes turned wholly black, before her eyes changed back to normal and the demon disappeared, but it wasn't truly gone, and she gave a half-smile.

"It's in the past. We're all free now."

Her parents remained quiet as Emmy kept staring out the window, feeling the demon whispering in her head, hearing the whispers she'd always heard—the whispers of the dead, of things unseen and unknown and paranormal. Feel something inside her having shifted—feel some power of hers stronger now, mingling with a dark, monstrous, inhuman power almost perfectly, like it was meant to be. The demon's power.

Because she was right—it was right.

They were all free now. 

***

Siri, play Me And The Devil by Soap&Skin, Control by Halsey and Sympathy For The Devil by The Rolling Stones

AKSJSHSHSJSJSJSSJ THIS IS DONE!!!!! AHHHH I STILL CAN'T BELIEVE IT!!! AJSHSJSKAKAKAJSHS

Yes, Emmy is possessed!!!!! If it was willing or not, well... >:)

But this story is officially done!! This was so much fun to write as my personal Halloween project, and I hope you all liked it too. Thank you to everyone who gave this story love—you rule <3333333333

Also... maybe there might be a sequel next year ( around Halloween again) Maybe there might not be? You'll have to see... >:)

Spanish translations:

Mija: Daughter

¿Estás bien, cielo?: Are you okay, sweetie?

For the last time ever for this fic, please read, comment and vote!

GhostWriterGirl out!