Chapter 1 : The unexpected call

Aanya Frost, with her fiery red hair and eyes that held the wisdom of centuries, sat on the edge of her bed, the morning sun filtering through the window of her modest cabin.

At 23, she was already a renowned shaman, her lineage dating back generations to a powerful line of spirit seers. Her life was a constant dance between the seen and the unseen, a world where ghosts whispered secrets and spirits sought solace.

Her phone buzzed, the caller ID displaying an unfamiliar number. Aanya hesitated, her intuition tingling. Calls from the city were rare, usually reserved for matters of state or dire emergencies. Curiosity piqued, she answered.

"Aanya Frost," she said, her voice calm despite the flutter of unease in her stomach.

"Miss Frost," a gruff, elderly voice responded, "This is Elias Thorne. I understand you… possess certain… abilities."

Anya's brow furrowed. "Certain abilities?"

"Yes," Mr. Thorne continued, his voice grave.

 "My grandson, Alexander, he's… unwell. Very unwell. The doctors are baffled. I believe… something else is at play."

Anya felt a shiver crawl down her spine. This was no ordinary request. "Mr. Thorne, I… I am a shaman. I can only help with… spiritual matters."

"I know," Mr. Thorne said, his voice filled with a desperate hope. "Please, come to the city. My residence. Immediately."

Anya felt excitement. This was no ordinary request. This was a summons, a challenge, and perhaps, a danger. She knew, deep down, that she couldn't refuse.

Chapter 2: Journey to the City

Anya packed her meager belongings – a worn leather satchel containing herbs, crystals, and a silver dagger passed down through generations of her family. It was a simple life, but it was hers. Now, that life was about to change.

The journey to the city was long and arduous. As the train rattled through the countryside, Anya meditated, seeking guidance from the spirits. What kind of evil lurked in the heart of the city? What secrets did the unseen world hold for her?

Anxiety gnawed at her. The city, with its towering buildings and bustling crowds, was a world apart from her quiet life. It was a world of secrets and shadows, a world where the line between light and dark blurred.

She reached the city late that evening, the city lights a dazzling, yet intimidating, spectacle. Her destination was a grand mansion, its imposing facade a stark contrast to her humble cabin.

 A sense of foreboding washed over her. This was no ordinary house; it was a fortress, a place where power and influence held sway.

A liveried servant ushered her in, his eyes wary.

The air inside was thick with an unsettling energy, a mixture of fear and anticipation. Anya felt a chill, not from the cool evening air, but from the unseen forces that lurked within the mansion's walls.

Chapter 3: The Unveiling

The grand drawing-room was a testament to wealth and power.

Sumptuous velvet curtains draped the windows, and a crackling fire cast dancing shadows across the polished marble floor.

 Seated before a roaring fireplace was an elderly man, his face etched with lines of worry.

This was Elias Thorne, President of Thorne Industries, a global conglomerate that dominated the market.

"Miss Frost," Mr. Thorne rose, his voice grave. "Welcome. Please, be seated."

Anya sat opposite him, her gaze unwavering. "Mr. Thorne, I am at your service. What is this urgent matter?"

He hesitated, then leaned forward, his voice dropping to a hushed whisper. "My grandson, Alexander, the CEO of Thorne Industries… he's gravely ill."

Anya's eyes widened. "Illness?"

Mr. Thorne shook his head. "Not an ordinary illness, Miss Frost. He's… fading. Withdrawing. As if something is draining the life from him."

 This sounded familiar to the cases she'd encountered – not physical illness, but something more insidious.

 "Do you suspect… " she asked

Mr. Throne -"please follow me I want you to meet my grandson" with a heavy and elderly voice …

Chapter 4: The Haunting

Mr. Thorne led Anya towards a grand suite, the air heavy with a strange, suffocating stillness. "This is Alexander's room," he whispered, his voice trembling.

Anya hesitated, her senses tingling. The moment she stepped inside, a wave of icy dread washed over her. The room, despite its opulence, felt suffocating, the air thick with a potent, unsettling energy.

She saw him.

 Alexander lay motionless on the four-poster bed, his face pale and drawn, his eyes closed. But it wasn't just Alexander she saw.

Anya gasped, her eyes widening in alarm. The room was teeming with unseen entities.

 Four distinct energies pulsed around Alexander, each malevolent in its own way.

1.One, a shadowy figure, clung to his feet, draining his vitality.

Another, a spectral woman, hovered over his head, whispering insidious thoughts

A third, a grotesque beast, coiled around his chest, constricting his breath.

4.And finally, a chillingly cold presence, a void-like entity, seemed to be consuming his very soul.

Anya quickly lead Mr. Thorne out of the room. "He must come out on his own," she declared, her voice urgent.

Mr. Thorne was bewildered. "Come out on his own? Why?"

"There are… four… entities," Anya explained, her voice trembling in alert.

"Each feeding on his fear, his despair. If we try to forcibly remove him, it will only enrage them, and they will fight back."

Mr. Thorne looked at her, his eyes wide with disbelief. "But… but he's unconscious!"

"His will, his inner strength, is the only weapon we have," Anya insisted. "He must summon the courage to fight back, to break free from their hold."

Mr. Thorne, though hesitant, understood the gravity of the situation. He nodded slowly. "What… what do I do?"

Anya took a deep breath. "Go to him. Tell him you love him. Tell him to fight. To remember who he is. To find the strength within himself to break free."

Mr. Thorne, his face etched with worry, turned and re-entered the room. Anya stood outside, her senses on high alert. The battle had begun.

Chapter 5: The Awakening

Mr. Thorne entered the room, his voice trembling as he called out to his grandson. "Alexander! My boy! Can you hear me?"

There was no response. Alexander lay motionless, his face pale and gaunt. Mr. Thorne, his heart aching, moved closer to the bed.

He gently took his grandson's hand, his voice filled with desperation. "Alexander, you have to fight! You are strong! You are a Thorne! Furthermore, you will not be defeated!"

As Mr. Thorne spoke, a flicker of recognition, a spark of defiance, appeared in Alexander's eyes.

He groaned, his body twitching. The unseen entities, sensing the stirring of his will, reacted with fury.

 The shadowy figure intensified its grip, the spectral woman shrieked, and the beast tightened its coils.

Anya, outside the room, felt the surge of energy, the clash of wills. The room vibrated with the unseen struggle.

After sometime Alexander gasped, his eyes snapping open. He looked around the room, confusion and terror clouding his gaze. Then, he saw his grandfather.

"Grandfather?" he whispered, his voice hoarse.

"I'm here, my boy," Mr. Thorne said, his voice thick with emotion.

 "You have to fight, Alexander. You are stronger than they are."

Alexander looked at his grandfather, then at the swirling energies around him.

Fear warred with a newfound determination in his eyes. He willed himself to move, to break free from the invisible bonds that held him captive.

With a Herculean effort, he pushed against the unseen forces.

He screamed, his voice raw with pain and defiance. The shadowy figure recoiled, the spectral woman shrieked and dissolved, and the beast, weakened, loosened its grip.

The void-like entity, however, remained, its presence growing more intense, threatening to consume him. Alexander, fueled by a surge of adrenaline, reached out with his mind, focusing all his will on the entity. He imagined a blinding light, a beacon of pure energy, emanating from within him.

The void-like entity recoiled, howling in pain. It writhed and twisted, then, with a final, desperate shriek, it vanished, leaving behind a trail of chilling cold.

Alexander, exhausted but triumphant, slumped back against the pillows. He was weak, but he was alive.

 He had faced his fears, conquered his demons, and emerged victorious.

Mr. Thorne, tears streaming down his face, embraced his grandson. "You did it, Alexander," he whispered. "You fought bravely."

Anya, witnessing the unfolding drama, felt a surge of relief.

 She had helped, but it was Alexander's own strength, his will to survive, that had ultimately saved him.

Chapter 6: A Shadow of Doubt

As Anya continued chanting, a shiver ran down her spine. The energy in the room, despite the initial surge of relief, felt… off.

 It was like a calm before the storm, a stillness that hummed with a dangerous undercurrent.

Instinctively, she cast a protective shield around the house and its occupants, a shimmering barrier of energy designed to deflect any malevolent forces.

But as she did so, a chilling realization dawned upon her. This wasn't just a random haunting something deeper, something more insidious, was at play.

Anya stopped chanting, her eyes fixed on Alexander. He was still weak, but the immediate danger seemed to have receded.

 Yet, a lingering unease clung to him, a shadow that seemed to seep into his very being.

"Mr. Thorne," Anya said, her voice grave, "I need to ask you something."

Mr. Thorne, still shaken by the events of the evening, looked at her, his eyes filled with concern.

"Anything, Miss Frost. Anything at all."

"Has there ever been any… any untoward incidents in your family's history?"

Anya asked carefully, "Any accidents, any… deaths?"

Mr. Thorne hesitated. "Accidents? Well, there was Alexander's father. He died in a plane crash. A terrible tragedy."

"And his mother?" Anya asked.

"She passed away from a long illness," Mr. Thorne said, his voice softening. "A broken heart, I think. She never really recovered from losing her husband."

Anya felt a knot tightening in her stomach. Something didn't feel right. The deaths, while tragic, seemed too… convenient.

The Thorne family, with their vast wealth and influence, were undoubtedly targets for those with ill intentions.

"I believe there's more to this than meets the eye," Anya said, her voice firm. "I suspect this is not simply a random haunting. It's… connected to Alexander."

Mr. Thorne looked at her, his eyes wide with apprehension. "Connected to Alexander? But how?"

"I don't know yet," Anya admitted, "But I need to investigate further. I need to stay here, to investigate deeper into your family history, to uncover the truth."

Mr. Thorne, recognizing the seriousness of the situation, nodded. "Of course, Miss Frost. Stay as long as you need. We will do everything we can to assist you."

Anya knew she had a long and arduous road ahead.

The truth, she suspected, was buried deep within the Thorne family's past, a dark secret waiting to be unearthed.

And she, with her unique abilities, was the only one who could uncover it.

Chapter 7: Whispers from the Past

Anya was given a spacious guest room in the sprawling mansion, a room that exuded an air of quiet elegance.

As the evening settled, she dined alone, her mind preoccupied with the unsettling events of the day.

She focused on her meditation, seeking guidance from the spirit world.

 Suddenly, a voice, faint but distinct, pierced through the stillness. "Help me… help me…"

Anya continued her meditation, trying to ignore the voice. It persisted, growing stronger, more desperate. After three hours, she finally opened her eyes, startled.

Standing before her, bathed in the moonlight filtering through the window, was a woman of ethereal beauty, her face etched with sadness. She wore an elegant gown, the fabric shimmering faintly.

"Who… who are you?" Anya asked, her voice trembling slightly.

The woman extended a hand, her gaze filled with a haunting sorrow. "I need your help," she pleaded.

Anya hesitated. "Why should I help you?"

The woman's eyes widened. "Because I am the reason your… your young friend is suffering."

Anya felt a jolt of recognition. This was Alexander's mother. The woman who had died, leaving behind a void in her son's life.

Driven by a sense of duty, Anya began to delve deeper. She spent the next few days exploring the mansion, searching for clues, piecing together the fragments of the past.

 She discovered that Alexander's mother had been brutally murdered when he was just a child.

Through a series of chilling revelations, Anya uncovered the horrifying truth.

The woman had been attacked in her own home, her son, a toddler at the time, witnessing the horrific scene. In a desperate attempt to protect him, she had hidden him inside a large wardrobe.

The killers, however, had discovered the child. In a fit of rage, one of them had struck the young boy with a heavy rod, causing him to lose his memory.

The trauma of witnessing his mother's murder, coupled with the head injury, had erased those crucial years from his mind.

The woman, her spirit bound to this place, was trapped, unable to move on, haunted by the guilt of not being able to protect her son.

 Her lingering presence, filled with grief and despair, had inadvertently created a void that attracted malevolent entities.

Anya, piecing together the fragments of the past, felt a profound sense of sadness. The young boy, now a successful CEO, carried the weight of this tragedy within him, unaware of the horrors he had witnessed as a child.

            EPISODE END