Veronica Lodge and Reggie Mantle had thought releasing Diana D'Ambrosio's ashes at the lake would bring an end to the terrifying ordeal they'd been living through. After all, they had followed Oliver's instructions, paying their respects to Diana in the most careful and thoughtful way they could. The lake had been serene, the sun setting on the horizon as they scattered her ashes, whispering words of peace. For a brief moment, everything had seemed to settle—a final closure, or so they had hoped.
Afterward, they celebrated with their friends at Texas Roadhouse, hoping to restore some normalcy to their lives. The tension in their faces relaxed, laughter breaking out between bites of steak and sips of beer. Archie made jokes, Betty shared stories from Riverdale, and for the first time in weeks, Veronica and Reggie allowed themselves to breathe easily.
But as they pulled into the parking lot of their apartment complex, the calm they'd felt all evening evaporated.
Veronica's eyes locked onto her office window from the car. The curtains—curtains she distinctly remembered leaving open—were slowly moving, as though an invisible hand were pulling them shut. The streetlights flickered outside, casting ominous shadows across the building, and the motion within the office seemed deliberate, too purposeful to be a draft or coincidence.
"Reggie," she whispered, her throat tight with fear. "Look."
Reggie followed her gaze, his stomach churning when he saw the curtains closing on their own. The unease that had been gnawing at him since they moved in crept back in, settling heavily on his chest. He glanced over at Veronica, her face pale but determined.
"Stay here, Ronnie. I'll check it out," he said, but Veronica shook her head.
"No. I'm coming with you."
Reluctantly, Reggie agreed. They left the safety of their car, approaching the apartment with cautious steps. Each footfall felt like a hammer against their nerves, the hairs on the back of their necks rising in unison.
Once inside the apartment, the tension was palpable, thick like an unseen fog. Veronica moved silently toward her office, feeling the icy grip of fear curl around her spine as they entered the dimly lit room. The air was heavy, suffocating. Her desk sat in the same place as before, her laptop where she left it. But there was something wrong—something she couldn't quite place.
"I swear I saw the curtains move…" she muttered, her voice wavering.
"They definitely did," Reggie confirmed, glancing around as if expecting something—or someone—to appear.
Veronica moved toward the window, gingerly touching the curtains, which now hung still and lifeless. "It doesn't make any sense. We… we scattered her ashes. We did everything right."
"Maybe it's over?" Reggie suggested, though he didn't sound convinced.
Just as Veronica was about to respond, she felt something—an eerie, crawling sensation across her skin, like invisible fingers brushing against her neck. Her breath caught in her throat, and she took a step back, her eyes wide.
"Reggie… something's here."
Before she could say anything else, the choking sensation gripped her like a vice. Her hands flew to her throat, but there was nothing there—no visible force, just an overwhelming pressure cutting off her air. She gasped, trying to scream, but the sound was trapped in her throat.
Reggie, who had stepped out to use the bathroom, suddenly heard a muffled noise coming from Veronica's office. His stomach dropped. He rushed toward the sound, bursting into the office just in time to see Veronica clawing at her throat, her face twisted in terror.
"Ronnie!" Reggie shouted, rushing to her side.
As he reached her, he saw it—a malevolent apparition hovering above her, its face contorted with rage. It was Marcello. The twisted image of her ex-husband, his ghostly form dripping with hatred, his eyes locked onto Veronica as if she were still his to control.
Reggie froze for a second, horrified at the sight. The apparition's hands were clenched around Veronica's neck, even though they couldn't be seen. But Reggie knew what he had to do. He reached out and grabbed Veronica's arm, pulling her back with all his strength.
"Let her go!" Reggie shouted into the darkness, yanking her away from the ghost's hold. He could feel the coldness seeping into his own skin, like icy tendrils threatening to grip him next.
Veronica stumbled backward, gasping for breath as the choking sensation finally released its grip. She collapsed into Reggie's arms, her eyes wide with fear and confusion. Marcello's apparition loomed for a second longer, glaring at them, before it dissolved into the shadows like smoke.
"We need to get out of here!" Reggie yelled, hoisting Veronica up and half-carrying her toward the front door.
Veronica, still shaking, managed to nod, her voice barely a whisper. "We have to go. Now."
They fled the apartment, stumbling down the stairs and rushing toward the car, their hearts pounding in their chests. Once inside, Reggie peeled out of the parking lot, not caring where they were going—just needing to get as far away from the apartment as possible.
"Where are we going?" Veronica asked, her voice hoarse from the attack.
"We're getting a hotel for the night," Reggie said, his hands gripping the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles were white. "We're not staying in that apartment until we figure this out."
As they drove, Veronica's phone buzzed. It was a text from Betty.
"Are you guys okay?"
Veronica hesitated for a moment before typing out a quick response.
"No. We just left the apartment. Something... something attacked me. It's getting worse."
When they finally arrived at the hotel, Veronica collapsed onto the bed, her whole body trembling. Reggie sat beside her, rubbing her back as they both tried to calm down.
"We thought scattering the ashes would be enough," Reggie muttered, shaking his head. "But this… this is something different. This is Marcello."
Veronica nodded, her throat still raw from the invisible hands. "I saw his face, Reggie. He's still here. And he's angry."
They quickly contacted their friends again, explaining what had just happened. Betty, Archie, and the others were horrified, but they promised to help in any way they could.
"We need to get more help," Betty said over the phone. "You can't go back there alone."
"We already contacted the paranormal investigator, the medium, and the priest. They're coming tomorrow night," Veronica replied, her voice shaky.
"But tonight…" Reggie added, looking out the hotel window into the night. "We're staying far away from that place."
As they settled into the hotel room, both Veronica and Reggie knew that this battle was far from over. They had dealt with Diana's spirit, but Marcello—his presence lingered. His hatred, his greed, his violent past—they were all still very much alive in the apartment.
Tomorrow, they would face him head-on. But tonight, they clung to each other, bracing themselves for whatever was coming next.