Hello hello... another Sinister fic yeeeee. I started this in like September and finished it a few days ago! My mental break from studying during the semester lol. So this takes place after Sinister 2. Reviews/etc are welcome. I've gone over each chapter so many times so I hope it's all good. Thanks for reading! -St0rmy

Avery plopped her stuffed duffel bag onto her bed. She looked around her new room. Hopefully she could convince her mother to repaint it. It was a dusty pink color, and the paint job itself looked as old as the house. Not that she was complaining. As her father always reminded her, she should be lucky she even gets a room, let alone one to herself.

Reagan Grace came bounding into her sister's room. Her mess of dark brown hair covered her eyes, and Avery swept it out of the way. "Don't you just love it here?" Reagan asked, twirling around.

Avery shrugged. "It's nice," she said with a weak smile. "How's your room?"

"That's what I wanted to show you!" Reagan grabbed her older sister's hand and dragged her out of her room. "Come see!" Avery laughed. Reagan had such a light about her, and she loved it. She could never be sad around Reagan. Not ever.

Pictures of kittens were already crookedly taped on the cream-colored walls. Reagan's pink sparkly comforter already dressed her bed. This room was a six-year-old's paradise already.

"It looks great, Reagan. Did you do this all by yourself?"

Reagan Grace's head bobbed up and down excitedly. "Yeah! Well, Chance helped with the bed a little bit. But everything else I did all by myself. Aren't you proud of me?"

Avery squeezed her sister. "Very. You did a great job. Maybe you can help me with my room? It looks so sad in there, you know?"

Reagan ran to her desk and pulled out a picture of a puppy with a bow. "This will make it all better, won't it, Avery?"

"Yes. I'm sure it will," Avery replied. "I'm going to go help Mom downstairs, 'k? Why don't you find a nice spot to put that up, Sunshine? I trust your judgement." Reagan's big brown eyes widened with excitement. She hadn't felt so grown up and responsible since, well, earlier today when she helped lug boxes. She dashed to Avery's room, as Avery made her way down the carpeted steps.

"Avery, honey?" Victoria asked. "Where's your brother?"

"CHANCE?" Avery called out.

"What?" came his voice from upstairs.

"He's upstairs." Avery quickly added, "I'll go get him!" before she was accused of sarcasm. That never went over well.

"Mom wants you," Avery told Chance as soon as she got to his doorway. "You should help. You've been here all day." Although she was not even two years his senior, Avery sometimes acted like she was the mom.

"Make me," he teased. Groaning, he jumped off his bed and playfully punched his sister as he walked out. Avery followed him down the stairs. She glanced uneasily at the clock. 4:30 already... Another 45 minutes. She shook her head and went to the kitchen to start unpacking plates and silverware.

/

Bughuul paced back and forth, still watching his latest target. Due to recent events, the easiest way of getting the offering and blood sacrifice would currently be impossible. The atmosphere of his realm was darker, warmer, and more constricting than usual. His plan was foiled; the chain was broken. It was past time to restart the chain, and he had found the perfect house and candidate to do so.

Ashley was perched on a flat rock, painting on a canvas, lovely scenes of murder. Suddenly, she heard Bughuul's voice in her head yelling her name. She shook her head, which was presently ringing with his telepathically vocal fury. She hopped off her seat and went to him, wiping her paint-tipped fingers on her smock.

"Yes... Sir...?" she asked tentatively. If Bughuul picked favorites, she would definitely be one of his. She murdered her family in such a simple yet bloody way. She painted the walls gloriously with their blood, and filmed it all wonderfully. Her little sharpie drawing was a nice touch, too. He appreciated all manner of artistic sacrifices, and hers was one of the best quality.

"I apologize, my child," his telepathic voice said, more softly this time.

"I understand your frustration," Ashley replied with a sweet smile. "So, what can I do?"

"I've found a new target," Bughuul continued. With that, Ashley felt a dull burning sensation as he projected the life of Avery into her mind. "I need you to gather some others, and get her for me."

"Yes, Sir. Who do you have in mind? And what about the other c-"

"Forget the damn camera. I'm done with film." He said that so disgustedly, as if film hadn't been his go-to sacrificial aesthetic. It was as if it was now the most offending, vile medium. He had another camera, but for now, film would be a grim reminder of the one time his plan was foiled. Before he could torturously murder the Ex-Deputy, he needed a new soul for more power.

"I've had Frida plant the radio. She is going with you," Bughuul finished.

"Frida?" Ashley asked. All she knew was this was Bughuul's first child of the modern age, and that was it.

"That would be me!" A girl's accented voice sounded to the right of Ashley. She turned to a girl about her age, with light brown hair bound in two braids with bows at the end, icy blue eyes, and rosy cheeks. "I put it in their attic, Father."

"As you should have." He turned back to Ashley. "And you, you are to get a few other more... artistic ones. Musicians, artists, figure it out. Make haste."

Ashley nodded and left to find some others. Frida smirked slightly at her "sister" and turned to Bughuul. "Is that all, Father?" Bughuul flicked his hand at Frida, who shrugged and left with a pout.

/

"Are you excited to start school?" Connor asked the children. At their new school, Reagan was to start first grade, Chance, fourth, and Avery, sixth.

"Yes! I can't wait to make new friends. But... I don't want homework," Reagan confessed. "But yes, Daddy. I am." Connor smiled slightly.

He eyed Avery, whose downturned eyes studied her food a little too carefully. Chance looked at her concernedly, and answered. "Yeah, as I'll ever be." He added a cheezy grin and thumbs up. "It isn't a lot..." Chance whispered at Reagan, who giggled behind her mashed potatoes.

"And you..." Connor asked.

Avery felt his gaze on her, and it sent a chill down her back. "Yes."

"Yes what?"

"Yes, Sir." Avery forced herself to swallow the last bit of food before her nerves would make her lose it all.

"Good." Connor smiled slightly and turned to his wife as they began discussing each other's days. Reagan Grace patted Avery's hand softly before shoving half of a cookie into her mouth.