Page 28 of Rest In Peace

Pete felt the familiar tendrils of paranoia creeping up his spine. Could Ben be involved? Did he know about the threatening letter?

"I'm fine, Ben. Just let me handle it my way," Pete said, trying to sound firm.

Ben nodded slowly, his gaze not leaving Pete's face. "Alright, but remember, I'm here for you no matter what. You don't have to face whatever it is alone."

As the party continued around them, Pete couldn't shake off the feeling of dread that clung to him like a second skin. Every laugh, every whisper felt like a threat, and he couldn't help but second-guess everyone's intentions.

The night stretched on, the music fading into a dull buzz in Pete's ears as his thoughts spiraled out of control. He excused himself from the crowd, needing a moment of solitude to collect his fraying nerves. The opulent mansion suddenly felt suffocating, each corner harboring unseen danger.

Alone in the dimly lit study, Pete sank into a plush armchair, his hands trembling slightly as he reached for the glass of whiskey on the mahogany table. The liquid burned down his throat, but it offered little solace against the turmoil brewing within him.

A soft knock on the door interrupted his inner turmoil, and Pete tensed, his gaze darting toward the entrance.

"Who is it?" he called out, his voice betraying a hint of apprehension.

"It's me, Ben," came the muffled reply from the other side.

Pete hesitated for a moment before unlocking the door, allowing Ben to step inside. His friend's concerned expression mirroredthe turmoil within Pete, and for a brief moment, he considered confiding in him. But the fear that gripped his heart like a vise held him back.

Ben perched on the edge of the leather armchair opposite Pete, his eyes never leaving his friend's troubled face.

"Pete, I can sense something is really bothering you. You know you can trust me, right?"

Pete felt a flicker of desperation rise within him, a yearning to unburden himself of the heavy secret weighing him down. But just as he opened his mouth to speak, doubt crept in once more.

Taking a deep breath, Pete forced a smile he hoped looked convincing. "I appreciate your concern, Ben. It's nothing I can't handle. Just some work stress getting to me, that's all."

Ben's gaze bore into him, unwavering. "Pete, we've been through a lot together. If there's something more going on?"

Before Ben could finish his sentence, Pete's eyes darted toward the antique clock on the wall. The time seemed to mock him, each tick echoing in his ears like a drumbeat of impending doom.

"I think you should go back to the party, Ben. I just need some time alone," Pete said, his voice tinged with a newfound resolve.

Ben hesitated, studying Pete intently as if trying to unravel the depths of his turmoil. After a moment of silence, he nodded slowly and stood up. "Alright, but remember, I'm here for you whenever you're ready to talk," Ben said softly before turning to leave the room.

Alone once more in the dimly lit study, Pete felt the weight of his secret pressing down on him like a leaden shroud. The remains of the half-burnt threatening letter lay crumpled in the ashtray, taunting him with its insidious power. Pete's breath caught in his throat as he remembered the words, each syllable sending a shiver down his spine.

Just as panic threatened to consume him, a sudden noise outside the study door jolted Pete from his thoughts. His heart pounded in his chest, the sound echoing in his ears like a war drum. He cautiously approached the door, his hand hovering over the handle.

"Who's there?" Pete called out, his voice barely above a whisper.

Silence greeted him in response, thick and suffocating. Every nerve in his body screamed with tension, his senses heightened to a fever pitch.

Another noise, this time faint but unmistakable, came from behind him. Pete whirled around, his eyes wide with fear. In the dim light of the study, shadows seemed to morph and shift, taking on sinister shapes that threatened to engulf him. His own ragged breath seemed to mock him, echoing off the study's walls like a sinister whisper. The silence that followed was deafening, each passing second stretching into an eternity of dread.

Pete's hands trembled as he reached for the heavy book resting on the bookshelf beside him. With a shaky grip, he clutched it close to his chest, the weight offering a sliver of comfort in the face of the unknown threat that loomed around him.

As he stood there, his back pressed against the cool wood of the bookshelf, a figure materialized from the shadows before him. Pete's breath caught in his throat, his pulse thundering in his ears as he struggled to make out the features of the intruder.

The figure emerged from the shadows, and Pete's heart raced as he recognized the familiar features.

"You?" he whispered, his voice shaking in the tense stillness of the room. “No… it can't be….”

The ghost gave a haunting smile. “But it is.”

A loud bang reverberated through the air as a gunshot echoed in the room.

Chapter 34

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