The morning sunlight filtered through the curtains of the Airbnb, casting a soft glow over the kitchen where the Keating 5 gathered for breakfast. The events of the previous night still weighed heavily on their minds, but they were determined to press forward and find a solution to their predicament.
As they sat around the table, Michaela poured coffee into their mugs, her brow furrowed with concentration. "We need to find someone to take over our case," she said, her voice determined. "But it won't be easy."
Connor nodded in agreement, his mind already racing with potential solutions. "We'll have to find someone with the right expertise," he said, his voice thoughtful. "Someone who's willing to take on a cold case with no guarantee of success."
Asher leaned back in his chair, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Well, lucky for us, I have a few alternate options up my sleeve," he said, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips.
The group exchanged curious glances, their interest piqued by Asher's suggestion. "What do you mean?" Laurel asked, her curiosity getting the better of her.
Asher leaned forward, his eyes sparkling with excitement. "We could try reaching out to some retired detectives," he suggested. "Or maybe even some private investigators who specialize in cold cases."
Oliver nodded in agreement, his mind already spinning with possibilities. "It's worth a shot," he said, his voice filled with determination. "We have to exhaust all our options if we want to find someone to take over our case."
With their plan in place, the Keating 5 set out for the Bartholomew County Courthouse, their hearts heavy with the weight of their mission. As they approached the building, they were met with skeptical stares from the officials gathered outside.
"We need to find someone to take over our case," Michaela explained, her voice steady despite the uncertainty that gnawed at her insides.
But convincing the officials to take on their cold case would prove to be no easy feat. With each rejection, the group felt their hope slipping away, their confidence waning as they struggled to find a solution.
But just as they were about to give up hope, a glimmer of opportunity presented itself. A retired detective who had once worked on similar cases expressed interest in taking over their investigation, his eyes alight with determination as he shook hands with Michaela.
With a sense of relief flooding through them, the Keating 5 returned to the Airbnb, their hearts lightened by the knowledge that their case was in good hands.
The Keating 5 stood outside Alma's house, their hearts heavy with trepidation as they gazed at the silent building before them. The morning sun cast long shadows across the deserted street, adding to the eerie atmosphere that surrounded them.
"She's gone," Asher muttered, his voice barely above a whisper as he peered through the window. "There's no one here."
The others crowded around him, their brows furrowed with concern as they took in the sight before them. The table where Alma had conducted her tarot readings sat empty, the remaining tarot cards scattered across its surface like scattered pieces of a puzzle.
"This doesn't make sense," Laurel said, her voice tinged with confusion. "Where could she have gone?"
Connor shook his head, his mind racing with possibilities. "I don't know," he admitted, his voice troubled. "But we need to find out what happened to her."
With a sense of unease settling over them, the Keating 5 decided to contact Annalise Keating about the situation. As Michaela dialed Annalise's number, Oliver reached for Alma's phone, hoping to find some clue as to her whereabouts.
But as he pressed the power button, a sinking feeling settled in the pit of his stomach. The screen remained dark, and there was no sign of life from the device.
"She's not picking up," Michaela said, her voice tinged with frustration as she ended the call. "And Alma's phone is here, but there's no sign of her."
The group exchanged worried glances, their minds racing with fear and uncertainty. Had Alma abandoned them, leaving them to face the curse alone? Or had something far more sinister happened to her?
"We need to search the house," Connor said, his voice firm with resolve. "There might be something here that can help us figure out what's going on."
With a sense of determination, the Keating 5 entered Alma's house, their hearts pounding in their chests as they searched for any clue that might shed light on the mystery. But as they combed through the rooms, their efforts proved fruitless—the house was eerily silent, its secrets shrouded in darkness.
As they regrouped in the living room, a sense of unease settled over them. The mystery of Alma's disappearance weighed heavily on their minds, leaving them to wonder what other horrors awaited them in the days to come.
The Keating 5 sat in Alma's living room, their minds swirling with fear and uncertainty as they grappled with the mystery of her disappearance. With trembling hands, Michaela dialed Annalise Keating's number, her heart pounding in her chest as she waited for the call to connect.
"Annalise," Michaela said, her voice trembling with anxiety as the call went through. "We need your help. Something's happened."
On the other end of the line, Annalise listened intently as Michaela recounted the events of the past few days—the cursed tarot cards, the strange occurrences in the Airbnb, and now Alma's sudden disappearance.
"I see," Annalise said, her voice calm and measured despite the gravity of the situation. "This is troubling indeed."
The Keating 5 exchanged worried glances as they listened to Annalise's response, their minds racing with fear and uncertainty. If even Annalise was concerned, then they knew they were facing something truly sinister.
"We need to find out what happened to Alma," Annalise continued, her tone serious. "And we need to do it quickly."
With a sense of urgency, the Keating 5 set out to search Alma's house once more, scouring every inch for any clue that might shed light on her disappearance. But no matter how hard they searched, they found nothing—the house remained eerily silent, its secrets locked away behind closed doors.
"We're running out of time," Connor said, his voice tight with frustration as they regrouped in the living room. "We need to figure out our next move."
Suddenly, Oliver's phone rang, breaking the tense silence that had settled over the room. With a sense of trepidation, he answered the call, his heart pounding in his chest as he listened to the voice on the other end.
It was Alma.
"Oliver," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I need your help. Meet me at the old church on the outskirts of town. Hurry."
The Keating 5 exchanged stunned glances as Oliver relayed Alma's message, their minds reeling with shock and confusion. What could Alma possibly need their help with? And why had she chosen to meet them at such an ominous location?
But despite their reservations, they knew they had no choice but to heed Alma's call. With a sense of determination, they set out for the old church, their hearts heavy with the weight of the unknown that lay ahead.
The Keating 5 pulled up outside St. Bartholomew Catholic Church, their hearts pounding in their chests as they gazed up at the imposing structure before them. The ancient stone walls seemed to loom over them, casting a shadow of foreboding that sent shivers down their spines.
As they stepped out of the car, a sense of unease settled over them, the weight of the unknown pressing down on their shoulders like a heavy blanket. They glanced at each other nervously, their eyes betraying their fear as they approached the church entrance.
"Alma said she'd meet us here," Connor muttered, his voice barely above a whisper as they pushed open the heavy wooden doors and stepped inside.
But as they entered the dimly lit interior of the church, they were met with a sight that sent a chill down their spines. Alma was nowhere to be found.
The group exchanged worried glances, their minds racing with fear and uncertainty as they searched every corner of the church for any sign of their missing friend. But no matter where they looked, there was no trace of Alma—only the eerie silence of the empty church.
"This doesn't make any sense," Laurel said, her voice tinged with frustration as they regrouped near the altar. "Where could she have gone?"
Connor shook his head, his brow furrowed with concern. "I don't know," he admitted, his voice heavy with worry. "But we need to find her. She could be in danger."
The Keating 5 split up, each taking a different section of the St. Bartholomew Catholic Church in their frantic search for Alma. With each step they took through the dimly lit corridors and echoing halls, their hearts pounded in their chests, the weight of the unknown bearing down on them like a suffocating blanket.
As Laurel made her way down into the church basement, a sense of unease washed over her. The air was thick and heavy, and the darkness seemed to press in on her from all sides. She moved cautiously, her footsteps echoing off the stone walls as she searched for any sign of Alma.
But as she ventured deeper into the basement, a feeling of dread crept over her. It was as if someone—or something—was watching her, their eyes boring into her from the shadows. She turned, her heart racing, but there was nothing there—only the empty expanse of the basement stretching out before her.
"Alma?" Laurel called out, her voice trembling with fear. "Are you here?"
But there was no answer, only the eerie silence of the basement. Laurel's breath came in shallow gasps as she continued to search, her senses on high alert for any sign of danger.
And then, just as suddenly as it had come, the feeling of being watched vanished. Laurel's heart pounded in her chest as she stood alone in the darkness, her mind reeling with fear and uncertainty.
But then, out of the corner of her eye, she saw movement. Alma stood behind her, her face pale and drawn, her eyes wide with fear.
"Alma!" Laurel exclaimed, relief flooding through her as she turned to face her friend. But as she did, Alma disappeared into thin air, leaving Laurel alone once more in the darkness.
Shaken to the core, Laurel stumbled back, her mind whirling with confusion. Had she imagined Alma's presence? Or had something more sinister been at play?
With trembling hands, Laurel reached for her phone, her fingers fumbling as she dialed the number for the rest of the Keating 5. "Guys," she said, her voice shaking with fear. "You need to get down here. Something's not right."
The Keating 5 rushed to the church's basement, their hearts pounding in their chests as they found Laurel standing alone, her face pale and drawn, her eyes wide with fear.
"What's wrong, Laurel?" Michaela asked, her voice filled with concern as she approached her friend.
Laurel's voice shook as she recounted her encounter with Alma, her words tumbling out in a frantic rush. "She was here, right behind me," Laurel said, her voice trembling with fear. "But when I turned around, she was gone."
The group exchanged worried glances, their minds reeling with confusion. Had Alma been there the whole time? Or had Laurel's fear gotten the best of her?
But then, as if on cue, Alma appeared behind the group, her presence sending a shiver down their spines.
"Alma," Connor said, his voice tense with apprehension. "Why do you keep disappearing?"
Alma said nothing, her expression inscrutable as she stared back at them with empty eyes.
"Please, Alma," Oliver pleaded, his voice filled with desperation. "We need to know about the cursed tarot cards. What happened?"
But still, Alma remained silent, her lips pressed tightly together as if she were keeping some terrible secret.
And then, without warning, Alma let out a ghastly scream, her voice echoing through the basement like a banshee's wail. The Keating 5 recoiled in horror, their hearts pounding in their chests as they scrambled to their feet and ran for the stairs.
They burst out of the basement and into the main church hall, their breath coming in ragged gasps as they stumbled towards the exit. Panic surged through them as they fumbled for the door, their hands shaking with fear as they flung it open and spilled out into the cool night air.
They raced across the churchyard, their footsteps echoing off the ancient stone walls as they made their way back to their car. The darkness seemed to press in on them from all sides, the shadows dancing in the moonlight as if alive with malevolent intent.
As they piled into the car and peeled away from the church, the Keating 5 exchanged terrified glances, their minds reeling with fear and uncertainty. What had they encountered in the church's basement? And would they ever be able to escape the horrors that lurked within its walls?
The Keating 5 returned to the Airbnb, their minds swirling with fear and confusion as they tried to process the terrifying events that had just unfolded at the church. They gathered in the living room, their faces pale and drawn, as they struggled to make sense of what they had seen.
"What was that?" Asher asked, his voice trembling with fear as he sank onto the couch. "What did we just witness?"
No one had an answer. They exchanged worried glances, their minds still reeling from the encounter with Alma in the church's basement.
"It was like she was... haunting us," Laurel murmured, her voice barely above a whisper as she hugged her arms tightly around herself.
Michaela nodded in agreement, her brow furrowed with concern. "But why? What does she want from us?"
Connor shook his head, his expression grim. "I don't know," he admitted. "But whatever it is, we need to find out."
With a sense of determination, they decided to contact Annalise Keating about the situation. Michaela dialed Annalise's number, her fingers trembling with anxiety as she waited for the call to connect.
"Annalise," Michaela said, her voice urgent as the call went through. "We need your help. Something's happened."
On the other end of the line, Annalise listened intently as Michaela recounted the events of the past few hours—the encounter with Alma, the ghastly screams, and their frantic escape from the church.
Annalise's voice crackled through the speakerphone, her tone grave with concern. "I'm sorry you had to experience that," she said. "But we need to figure out what's going on."
Michaela nodded, her heart pounding in her chest. "We know," she replied. "But how do we do that?"
Annalise paused for a moment, considering their options. "You need to find out more about Alma," she said finally. "And the best way to do that is to talk to someone who knows about the history of this town."
"A historian," Oliver interjected, his brow furrowed in thought. "They might have information about Alma and the cursed tarot cards."
Connor nodded in agreement. "It's worth a shot," he said. "But where do we find a local historian?"
Annalise thought for a moment before responding. "Start by checking with the Bartholomew County Historical Society," she suggested. "They should have records and archives that might shed some light on Alma's past."
With a plan in place, the Keating 5 set out to find the local historian. They drove to the Bartholomew County Historical Society, their hearts heavy with anticipation as they stepped inside the building.
They were greeted by a kindly older woman who introduced herself as Mrs. Jenkins, the curator of the museum. As they explained their situation, Mrs. Jenkins listened attentively, her brow furrowing with concern.
"Alma," she murmured, her eyes clouded with thought. "Yes, I remember her. She was a local fortune teller who lived here many years ago."
The Keating 5 leaned in eagerly, their hearts pounding with anticipation. "Do you know anything about the cursed tarot cards?" Michaela asked, her voice trembling with excitement.
Mrs. Jenkins nodded solemnly. "Yes, I've heard the stories," she replied. "They say that Alma was given those cards by a mysterious stranger who visited her one night. No one knows where they came from, but they brought nothing but trouble wherever they went."
The Keating 5 exchanged worried glances, the weight of Mrs. Jenkins' words settling heavily on their shoulders.
"But what happened to Alma?" Laurel asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
Mrs. Jenkins shook her head sadly. "No one knows for sure," she said. "But some say that she disappeared one night, never to be seen again."
The Keating 5 exchanged troubled looks, their minds reeling with the implications of Mrs. Jenkins' words. If Alma had disappeared, then what had they encountered in the church's basement?
As they left the museum, the Keating 5 knew that they were one step closer to uncovering the truth about Alma and the cursed tarot cards. But with each new revelation, the darkness seemed to close in around them, threatening to consume them whole. And as they faced the horrors that lurked in the shadows, they knew that their journey was far from over.
The Keating 5 sat in their Airbnb, the weight of their recent discoveries pressing heavily upon them. With trembling fingers, Michaela dialed Annalise Keating's number, her heart pounding with anticipation as she waited for the call to connect.
"Annalise," Michaela said as soon as the call went through, her voice urgent and breathless. "We need to talk."
On the other end of the line, Annalise listened intently as Michaela recounted their encounter with Mrs. Jenkins and the information they had uncovered about Alma and the cursed tarot cards. As Michaela spoke, the gravity of the situation seemed to weigh heavily on Annalise's shoulders.
"This is troubling," Annalise said, her voice tense with concern. "Alma's disappearance, the cursed tarot cards... It's all starting to make sense now."
The Keating 5 exchanged worried glances as they listened to Annalise's response, their minds racing with the implications of what they had discovered.
"But what do we do now?" Asher asked, his voice tinged with fear.
Annalise was silent for a moment, her mind working furiously as she considered their options. "We need to find out more about Alma's disappearance," she said finally. "And we need to do it quickly."
The Keating 5 sat in the dimly lit living room of their Airbnb, the events of the day weighing heavily on their minds. Laurel's words hung in the air like a heavy fog, casting a pall of unease over the group.
"It's all too much," Laurel whispered, her voice barely above a whisper. "First Alma disappears, and now we're tangled up in this mess with the cursed tarot cards. I don't know if I can handle it anymore."
Her words echoed the sentiments of the rest of the group, each member grappling with their own fears and uncertainties in the face of the inexplicable events that had unfolded since their arrival in Columbus.
Michaela nodded in agreement, her brow furrowed with worry. "I know what you mean," she said, her voice trembling with emotion. "But we can't give up now. We owe it to Alma to find out what happened to her."
Asher placed a comforting hand on Michaela's shoulder, his expression grave. "She's right," he said, his voice steady with determination. "We can't let fear dictate our actions. We have to keep pushing forward, no matter how difficult it may seem."
Connor nodded in agreement, his jaw set with determination. "We need to focus on finding answers," he said. "We can't let ourselves be overwhelmed by the darkness that surrounds us."
Oliver remained silent, his thoughts a whirlwind of fear and uncertainty. But deep down, he knew that he couldn't let his friends face this ordeal alone. With a silent nod, he resolved to stand by their side, no matter what horrors awaited them.
As they sat in the dimly lit room, a sense of resolve settled over the group. They may not have all the answers, but they refused to let fear dictate their actions. With courage and determination, they would confront the darkness head-on, and they would emerge victorious in the end.
For they knew that together, they were stronger than any nightmare that dared to stand in their way. And as they faced the challenges that lay ahead, they knew that they would emerge from the shadows, triumphant and unbroken.