"Father! Father!" Ethan’s frantic cries echoed through the room.
His parents rushed upstairs when they heard his scream. As they threw open the door, their eyes locked onto a haunting scene, Ethan, trembling with fear, hovered over his younger sister Ivy, who lay on the cold, marble floor.
"What happened?" Mia Hayes gasped, her voice trembling as she rushed to Ivy’s side. The coldness of her daughter’s skin sent chills down her spine.
"She—she just collapsed! I don’t know what happened!" Ethan’s voice cracked, tears streaming down his face as he clutched his sister’s small hand.
"Jacob, we have to get her to the hospital, now!"
Without a word, Jacob carried Ivy into his arms, her body limp and unnervingly cold.
Ethan followed close behind, his eyes never leaving his sister’s still form as they sped to the hospital.
Upon arriving at the hospital, they rushed inside. Ethan refused to leave Ivy’s side, his heart pounding as his parents talked with the doctor.
"We didn’t find anything wrong with your daughter," the doctor said, his voice disturbingly calm as he handed over the test results.
"Impossible! Look at her!" Mia’s voice rose, she pointed at Ivy’s unnaturally pale face. "This isn’t normal, something is terribly wrong!"
Jacob placed a steady hand on Mia’s shoulder, trying to calm her. "Please, Doc, there has to be something you missed. Run the tests again."
The doctor’s face remained grim. "We’ve done everything we can. We’ve repeated the tests three times, and the results are the same. There’s nothing medically wrong, but…"
"But what?" Jacob pressed, desperation seeping into his voice.
The doctor shook his head, a shadow of uncertainty clouding his expression. "But… I’ve never seen anything like this before. We just don’t know."
Jacob’s shoulders slumped as the weight of the situation settled in. "We’ll take her home, then."
With Ivy still unconscious, they returned home. Ethan never left her side, his small frame curled up beside her on the bed, his mind a whirlwind of fear and confusion.
"Please… wake up," Ethan whispered, holding her icy hand to his cheek, as if his warmth could somehow bring her back.
Later that night, Ethan crept downstairs, drawn by the hushed voices of his parents.
"Jacob, Ivy’s just a child… she’s only six years old. What’s happening to her?" Mia’s voice was thick with emotion, "We might lose her…"
"We won’t lose her."
"What are you saying? Do the doctors know anything? Is there a cure?" Mia’s voice wavered between hope and despair.
But Jacob’s response was chillingly cryptic, leaving Ethan’s heart pounding in his chest as the darkness of the unknown surrounds over them all.
Ethan peeked in the shadows from a distance, just enough to stay hidden but close enough to catch every word.
His father’s voice was tense, the weight of an impossible decision evident in his tone. "We’ll ask for help from them."
"From them? They can’t be trusted, Jacob! You know we don’t agree with what they do!"
Mae opened her mouth to argue, but the words died in her throat. Silence hung between them like a dark cloud, thick with fear and desperation. Jacob noticed her hesitation and moved closer, taking her trembling hands in his.
"Mae," he whispered, "if we don’t do this, we’ll lose Ivy."
Jacob grabbed his coat with a determined air and snatched the car keys from the counter. "I’m leaving now. I’ll bring them here tomorrow," he declared.
Without another word, he disappeared into the night, the door slamming shut behind him.
The fear was intense, almost suffocating. He hurried back to Ivy’s room, where she lay, cold and pale.
Exhaustion weighed heavily on him, and despite the anxiety gnawing at his insides, sleep eventually claimed him.
But the darkness didn’t grant him peace. Ethan opened his eyes, not to the comforting light of morning, but to the eerie stillness of a dream—a dream that felt too real. 
His parents had always told him about the gift he possessed, the open third eye that allowed him to see beyond the veil of reality.
"Who are you?" he demanded, his voice filled with a courage he didn’t fully feel. He had to be brave, for Ivy.
A tall, dark figure loomed beside Ivy’s bed, its red eyes glowing. The figure’s presence was suffocating, a manifestation of pure malice.
"Don’t take her! You’re not taking her!" Ethan screamed, his voice cracking as the dark figure advanced toward Ivy.
In a jolt of terror, Ethan awoke to the piercing sound of his mother’s scream.
"Jacob! Jacob! Ivy isn’t breathing! Our daughter!" Mae’s voice was shrill with panic, tearing through the sunny morning.
Ethan stumbled out of bed, his body trembling as reality crashed down around him. Ivy wasn’t breathing. His worst nightmare was coming true. All he could do was cry, helpless and terrified.
Suddenly, the front door creaked open, and a woman entered—someone Ethan had never seen before. Her presence was oppressive, her aura heavy with something dark and unsettling.
"I know a way to bring her back to you," the woman spoke, her voice cold and emotionless.
"Tell us," Jacob replied.
The woman’s gaze was distant as she spoke. "Go to the Mystic Hidden Twilight Forest, but know this—she is no longer alive." Her cold eyes locked onto Ethan. "And you will need to give something in return."
"Give something? We’ll give anything!" Mae’s said desperately.
"Life must be given to restore life," the woman whispered. "You must offer a life."
Ethan’s blood ran cold as he realized the terrible price that had to be paid.
"Leave the room, Ethan," his father commanded, his voice stern but lined with a tremor of sorrow.
Ethan obeyed, stepping out into the room. But he couldn’t bring himself to go far. Pressing his ear against the door, he strained to catch every word.
"Is there no other way?" his mother’s voice was barely above a whisper, trembling with desperation.
"This is the only way," the woman replied, her tone cold, final.
A heavy silence followed, thick with unspoken fear and resignation.
"We understand," his father finally said. "Thank you."
The door creaked open, and Ethan quickly stepped back. The unfamiliar woman brushed past him, her presence as chilling as the words she had spoken. But Ethan’s unease deepened when, hours later, another figure arrived, a man this time.
"Ethan… this is Uncle Wilson," his father said softly, his eyes glistening as he pulled Ethan into a tight embrace, as if it was the last time he’d ever hold him. "Be kind to him."
The pain etched in his parents' faces was like a knife to Ethan’s heart.
His mother knelt beside him, her arms wrapping around him in a hug so tight it was as if she was trying to imprint this moment into her memory forever.
Son, take care of Ivy. Don’t leave each other. Remember, this isn’t anyone’s fault, and no one wanted this to happen." She kissed his cheek, her tears soaking into his skin as she pulled him close once more.
"Mother… Father…" Ethan’s voice cracked as tears welled in his eyes. But they didn’t turn back as they walked away, leaving a void in the house that felt impossible to fill.
Uncle Wilson stepped forward, gently pulling Ethan into his arms, lifting him up as though he weighed nothing at all.
"Have you eaten, Ethan? Come, I'll cook your favorite steak," he said, his voice warm yet tinged with something Ethan couldn’t quite place.
He set Ethan down at the kitchen table, trying to distract him with the promise of food.
But hours passed, and the knot of dread in Ethan’s stomach only tightened. He finally broke the silence, his voice small and uncertain. 
"Where are they going, Uncle? Will they come back?"
Uncle Wilson’s smile was bittersweet, a fragile mask barely concealing his own grief. "They're going on a vacation, but I don’t know when they'll return."
"Uncle…"
His uncle’s eyes glistened, but he forced a smile, ruffling Ethan’s hair. "You’ll understand one day, Ethan. When the time comes, I'll tell you everything—when you're ready."
"I’m ready now, Uncle," Ethan insisted, his voice pleading.
Uncle Wilson chuckled softly, but it was a hollow sound. Before he could respond, a faint voice interrupted.
"Big brother…"
He and his uncle turned at the same time, eyes wide. Ivy stood in front of them, pale and fragile, but alive.
Uncle Wilson rushed to her, enveloping her in a hug, tears streaming down his face. But Ethan’s attention was drawn elsewhere. In the corner of the room, shrouded in darkness, stood the same figure from his dream, the one with the red eyes.
The figure watched them in silence, its presence a menacing reminder of the price that had been paid. Ethan’s blood ran cold as he realized that the nightmare was far from over.