(A/N):
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The sun began its slow descent.
Shadows stretched longer across the floor.
And Grant… Still wasn't right.
He hadn't spoken much. Hadn't argued. Hadn't complained.
No sarcasm. No temper. No Grant.
He either sat quietly eating… or lay on the bed staring at the ceiling like he was watching something no one else could see.
It was starting to get to them.
Badly.
In the living room, Paxton paced restlessly.
"I'm telling you, this isn't normal."
Paige hugged her arms tighter.
"…maybe he's just tired?"
Paxton shook his head.
"No. This is wrong."
Hayley stood near the doorway, glancing toward the bedroom.
"He hasn't even reacted to anything."
Paxton ran a hand through his hair.
"Yeah, exactly!"
He lowered his voice.
"What if I messed him up?"
Paige blinked caught off guard by his question.
"What?"
Paxton gestured toward the room.
"I hit him. What if… I don't know… something happened?"
Hayley frowned rubbing her forehead.
"You slapped him, Paxton. Not exactly brain surgery."
But doubt still lingered.
Right on time—
-Click.
The door unlocked.
All three turned immediately.
"...."
"...."
"...."
Leah stepped inside again, carrying dinner.
Leah Clearwater
She set the containers on the table casually.
"Dinner."
But before she could turn—Paxton stepped forward quickly.
"Wait!"
Leah paused, raising an eyebrow.
"What?"
Paxton gestured nervously toward the bedroom.
"…something's wrong with Grant."
Leah didn't look impressed.
"He's been like that since earlier."
Paxton shook his head.
"No, I mean really wrong."
He lowered his voice.
"What if I… messed him up?"
Leah crossed her arms. Hearing the story of how he punched the unconscious Grant before.
"You punched him?"
"…kinda."
"Hard?"
"…kinda."
Leah sighed wondering how this guys brain works his friend was literally punched in his guts by Rosalie but he thinks it was something to do with his punch.
"He's breathing. He's walking. He's eating."
She shrugged calmly.
"Doesn't sound dead to me."
Paxton hesitated even through he want to be sure.
"…can we call a doctor?"
Leah blinked once. Then again.
-Blink! -Blink!
"…a doctor."
Paxton nodded seriously.
-Nod!
"Yeah. Like… what if he's got brain damage or something?"
Leah stared at him for a few seconds. Then gave a short nod.
-Nod!
"I'll pass it along."
Her tone made it very clear what she thought of that idea. Then she turned and walked out. The door locked again.
Jojo's Mansion...
Leah stepped inside and immediately found Jojo in the living room.
He was sitting calmly, a cup of tea in his hand.
Rosalie stood nearby, leaning against the wall.
Caroline sat on the couch scrolling through something.
Alice stared at nothing, lost in flickering visions.
Inadu remained quietly observant.
Leah spoke plainly.
"One of them thinks the guy's got brain damage."
Jojo raised an eyebrow.
"Oh?"
Leah continued with a sigh.
-Sigh!
"He wants a doctor."
For a second—Silence. Then—Jojo laughed.
"...."
"...."
"...."
-HAHAHA!!!
Not loudly. But genuinely amused.
Rosalie smirked hearing it.
-Smirk!
"Brain damage, huh? That's one way to describe it."
Caroline chuckled looked back at Rosalie.
-Chuckle!
"Well… technically not wrong."
Alice tilted her head slightly.
"It's worse than that."
Jojo took a slow sip of his tea. Still smiling faintly.
But his eyes—Were sharp. He set the cup down.
"…noted."
The word carried weight.
Midnight...
The house fell into that unnatural stillness again.
Outside, the wolves patrolled.
Inside, the lights were dim.
And in the bedroom—All four slept. Or at least…
They should have.
Grant's eyes opened. Slowly. Deliberately.
"...."
No panic. No confusion. Just… awareness.
His pupils—Gone. Replaced by pure black void.
He sat up without a sound.
The room remained still.
"...."
"...."
"...."
Hayley slept soundly.
Paige curled into herself.
Paxton lay on his side, breathing heavily from exhaustion.
None of them stirred.
Grant stood. His movements were smooth.
Controlled. Unnatural.
The door creaked open.
-Clink!
Unlocked.
As if it had never been sealed.
He stepped into the hallway.
A flash of lightning illuminated the house for a split second—
And in that brief light—His shadow stretched across the wall.
Not his. Hers.
A long, distorted silhouette of a woman in ancient robes.
Ilona.
Then darkness returned.
Grant walked into the kitchen. Barefoot.
"...."
Silent.
The air grew colder around him.
He stopped in front of the knife stand. His hand reached out.
Selected one.
A long, sharp blade.
He lifted it. Turned it slightly.
Examining the edge.
Then—He dragged the blade lightly across his palm.
A thin cut opened.
Blood welled up. Dripped.
Grant didn't flinch. Didn't react.
Instead—A slow smile spread across his face.
Not his smile. Something colder.
Satisfied.
In the reflection of the dark window—For a brief moment—Grant's face flickered.
And Ilona's appeared over it.
Perfect alignment. Perfect control.
He turned. Knife in hand. And began walking back down the hallway.
Toward the bedroom.
-Thud. -Thud.
-Thud. -Thud.
Each step quiet. Measured. Certain.
Inside the room—Three unaware targets slept.
Breathing. Vulnerable.
Unprotected in that exact moment.
Grant stopped at the doorway.
The knife gleamed faintly in the darkness.
His black eyes scanned them.
Choosing. Calculating.
Ending.
Above the house—Clouds rolled.
Thunder rumbled.
And Ilona—For the first time—Was ready to complete the cycle.
The bedroom door creaked open.
No one noticed. Not at first.
Grant stepped inside.
Silent.
"...."
"...."
"...."
Knife in hand.
Black eyes scanning. The air felt heavier.
Colder.
Like something had entered that didn't belong.
He moved toward the bed.
Paxton.
Closest. Easiest.
Grant raised the knife.
Slowly. Carefully.
The blade caught a faint flicker of lightning from outside—A thin glint.
That glint—Hit Paxton's eyes.
His brow twitched.
A ripple of instinct.
His eyes opened.
And what he saw—Snapped him awake instantly.
Grant stood over him.
Smiling.
Not human. Not familiar.
Cruel. Empty.
The knife came down.
Fast.
"—!"
Paxton jerked sideways.
Fell off the bed.
The blade plunged into the pillow where his head had been.
-THUD.
Feathers burst into the air.
Paxton hit the floor hard. Scrambling backward.
"WHAT THE HELL—?!"
Hayley shot upright.
"Paxton?!"
Paige screamed seeing the knife on Grant's hand.
Grant turned his head slowly.
Still holding the knife buried in the pillow.
Then—He pulled it out.
Calm. Unbothered.
His black eyes locked onto Paxton.
Paxton's voice cracked in pure terror.
"HE'S TRYING TO KILL ME!"
He crawled backward, hitting the wall.
"HELP—!"
Grant stepped forward.
One step. Then another. Knife steady. Smile still there.
"...."
Wrong.
Everything about him was wrong.
Hayley jumped off the bed.
"GRANT, STOP!"
No response.
Paige grabbed Hayley's arm.
"DON'T GO NEAR HIM!"
Grant tilted his head slightly.
Like he didn't understand their words.
Like they didn't matter.
Paxton grabbed a chair nearby and shoved it toward Grant.
"STAY BACK!"
The chair hit Grant's legs—But he didn't fall.
Barely even reacted.
Just stepped over it. Still advancing.
Paxton's voice broke into a scream.
"SOMEONE HELP ME—!"
Outside the mansion...
A wolf's head snapped up.
Then another. Low growls rippled through the forest then they howled.
Inside—Something had broken.
Inside the House...
Grant lunged again.
Knife cutting through the air—Straight for Paxton's throat—And just before impact—The door burst open.
A force slammed into Grant from the side.
Sending him crashing across the room.
The knife flew from his hand—Clattering across the floor.
Grant hit the wall hard—And dropped.
For a second—Still.
Jojo stood at the doorway.
Eyes sharp. Presence heavy. Behind him— Rosalie. Caroline.
Leah already shifting outside.
Paxton collapsed against the wall, shaking violently.
"He—he—he—!"
Hayley rushed to him.
"It's okay—it's okay!"
Paige was crying.
Grant lay on the ground.
Unmoving.
Then—His fingers twitched.
His head slowly turned.
Black eyes locking onto Jojo.
And for a brief moment—Through Grant's face—Ilona smiled.
Through his lips, Ilona spoke.
"You are too late."
Her voice echoed unnaturally.
"I am inside now."
Grant's head tilted slightly, eyes still pitch black.
"I can end them whenever I wish."
A pause.
Her smile widened.
"I have already won."
Jojo exhaled slowly. Almost tired.
He didn't argue. Didn't react.
Instead—He glanced sideways.
At Inadu.
She understood immediately. With a small nod, she lifted her hand.
-Nod
"...."
A faint whisper of magic flowed through the room.
Soft. Silent.
Hayley's eyes fluttered—Closed.
Paige slumped gently onto the bed.
Paxton, still shaking, suddenly lost consciousness and collapsed beside them.
All three—Out. Safe.
For now.
The room fell silent again.
"...."
"...."
"...."
Only two remained standing.
Jojo.
And Grant… or rather—Ilona.
Black smoke curled around Jojo's body.
A low, rising heat filled the room.
The air warped. Burned.
And in a single breath—He transformed. Flames erupted from his skull.
Chains rattled faintly.
The Ghost Rider stood where Jojo once had been.
Hellfire danced along his bones.
Ilona's smile faltered. Just slightly.
Ghost Rider stepped forward.
Fast.
His hand shot out—Grabbing Grant by the collar.
The fabric ignited instantly.
Flames crawled upward.
Grant screamed.
But the voice that followed—Wasn't entirely his.
Ghost Rider lifted him off the ground effortlessly.
Turned his burning skull slightly—Glancing at the clock on the wall.
A few minutes left...
Still within the terms. Still within the game.
Then—He looked back at Grant.
At Ilona. And spoke.
"YOU SHOULD NOT HAVE ENTERED THE PIECE."
The words hit like thunder.
Ilona snarled through Grant's mouth.
"You cannot stop this—!"
Ghost Rider's grip tightened.
Flames intensified.
"YOU MISTOOK PATIENCE FOR WEAKNESS."
Then—He acted.
His other hand rose—And plunged into Grant's chest.
Not physically. But spiritually.
The room shook.
A violent force pulled outward.
From within Grant—Something screamed.
Not human. Not contained.
Ilona.
Her spirit began to tear free.
Grant's body convulsed violently.
His voice and hers overlapped in a horrifying scream.
"AAAAAAHHHH—!"
Flames surged. The walls cracked faintly from the pressure.
Ghost Rider pulled. Slow. Relentless.
Like dragging something buried deep in the earth.
"COME OUT."
Ilona's form began to emerge.
A shadow being ripped from flesh.
Her silhouette stretched out from Grant's body—Distorted. Screaming. Fighting.
"You cannot—! THIS IS MY—!"
"ENOUGH."
The command shattered her resistance.
With one final pull—Ghost Rider tore her completely free.
Her spirit collapsed onto the floor—Separate.
Burning under hellfire. Grant's body dropped. Limp. Unconscious.
Alive.
Ilona writhed on the ground.
Her form unstable. Weakened. Her voice cracked.
"You… broke the rule…"
Ghost Rider stood over her.
Flames roaring. The chain around his arm rattled softly.
He looked once more at the clock. The final seconds ticking away.
Then—He spoke.
"THE GAME ENDS."
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(Author's POV)
(A/N):
Guys My New Fic name is:
-->Star Entertainment: Building An Empire.
-->Mahabharat: Shiva's Last Variable
Check it out... I hope you will like it
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