Chapter 16 – We are the same

Maya has learned many times that life is, above all, a matter of timing. Once again, she realizes it.

As she meets Hugo’s burning gaze, the world seems to stop, her breath catching in an icy void. But the moment shatters brutally as he rushes into the room, leaps toward her, and slips his powerful fingers into the narrow opening of the mirror, desperately trying to force it open.

Maya holds the door with all her strength, feeling her muscles tremble under the strain. The mirror groans under the pressure. Her desperate gaze searches for Jenks, but he is already further away, pushing Camille in her robotic state of inertia. He seems to reach a small new room, where broken pieces of stone litter the ground—remnants of a collapsed interior wall. He won’t have time to help her. Suddenly, her mind lights up.

She fixes her eyes on Hugo, his face twisted with determination and rage. In her head, she counts to three to steel herself, then abruptly lets go of the door. The mirror, freed, swings open violently. Caught off guard, Hugo stumbles backward, losing his balance. Maya doesn’t waste a second—she bolts at full speed, her flashlight trembling in her hand. With the other, she frantically flips through the notebook, the crumpled pages slipping beneath her fingers.

Behind her, Hugo’s heavy, rapid footsteps echo like a war drum.

“Maya! Come back here!” he shouts, his voice rumbling like a storm.

But she doesn’t turn back. Not now. Not while her heart is pounding so hard it hurts.

She bursts into the small room where Jenks is desperately trying to calm Camille—or more likely, Sara. The girl is hysterical, screaming in terror, her hands clenched against her chest. It seems that even beyond death, she recognizes the entity that caused her demise. Maya doesn’t have the luxury of stopping to soothe her. She drops her flashlight and the notebook, letting them fall onto the dusty floor, and lunges for a jagged piece of broken stone.

Hugo storms forward despite the narrow corridor, his imposing silhouette cutting through the darkness. Maya ignores the growing fear inside her and begins carving the symbols from the notebook onto the nearest wall. The stone bites into the hard surface, leaving behind a white trail. Her hand scrapes against the rough wall, blood welling up, but she pays it no mind.

“WE HAVE TO GO!” Jenks shouts behind her, but his words feel distant.

She carves the second symbol on the opposite wall, Sara’s screams and Hugo’s thundering footsteps blending into a terrifying cacophony.

“COME HERE!” Hugo roars, getting closer by the second.

Maya feels his breath, like an icy wave against her face, but she doesn’t stop and throws herself to the ground in front of the corridor’s opening. The stone begins to crumble before she can finish the third symbol, and in a final desperate act, she completes it with her own blood. Her hand trembles as she draws the last loop, sharp pain radiating from her palm.

Hugo is there, just a breath away, reaching out to grab her. Maya springs backward, her heart threatening to explode in her chest. And suddenly—silence. No more screams, no more footsteps, nothing but the hum of emptiness.

Hugo halts abruptly, frozen just before reaching her, his eyes locked onto hers, a mix of surprise and frustration. His face, swollen from blows and smeared with dried blood, makes him look even more terrifying. His gaze slowly drifts to the notebook lying on the ground in the flashlight’s beam. Then, he looks back at Maya, his lips curling into a wicked, almost amused smile.

“Tut tut tut tut…” he murmurs, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Maya, Maya, Maya… Bad girl…”

His head tilts slightly, a spark of mischief in his eyes. Standing before him, Maya surprises even herself. Her legs don’t buckle, and her gaze remains steady, locked onto his without wavering. It’s not that the fear is gone—it’s still there, coiled in her chest like a snake ready to strike—but this time, something else takes precedence: a sharp awareness that she has a better grasp of the situation. She has learned, she has anticipated, and that gives her a sliver of control.

Hugo, on the other hand, seems almost entertained by her boldness. His lips stretch into a lazy smile, but his eyes remain cold and calculating, sliding over her from head to toe. Every second of his scrutiny is a deliberate provocation, an intimidation game he clearly enjoys.

“That wasn’t very nice of you to stab me the way you did last time, Maya,” he finally says, his voice laced with mock disappointment. “And this isn’t quite how I imagined our reunion.”

A shiver runs down Maya’s spine, but she doesn’t give in.

“I didn’t imagine one at all,” she snaps, a sharp edge in her voice she didn’t know she was capable of.

Hugo narrows his eyes, his smile faltering slightly. Annoyance flickers across his features, but it is quickly replaced by a glint of sinister amusement. He seems to relish every word, every tense second, just as he had when he showed her her father’s grave in the basement of the Sea View Hotel.

“You wound me,” he says with mock hurt, his hand brushing over his heart in a dramatic parody of pain.

Then, he slightly turns his head, his expression hardening.

“Perhaps we should start by getting rid of the parasites…”

He shoots a dark glare toward Jenks, who has instinctively positioned himself in front of Camille. The inspector’s shoulders are tense, every muscle primed to act if necessary. Behind him, Camille has curled into a trembling ball, the white mask incapable of hiding the overwhelming fear emanating from the spirit within.

Maya’s worry deepens, her gaze flicking rapidly between Hugo and Jenks. She knows him and his unpredictable cruelty. If Jenks and Camille stay here, they will become the next targets of his fury. Taking a deep breath, she forces her voice to remain steady despite the chaos inside her.

“Inspector… take Camille a little farther away. I’ll join you in a moment.”

Jenks stiffens, his eyes betraying his hesitation.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea…”

“I’ll be right there,” she insists, offering a smile meant to be reassuring, though her heart hammers violently. “I promise.”

He stares at Hugo one last time, then turns back to her, visibly struggling with his conscience. But Camille, possessed by Sara’s spirit, is on the verge of panic, her whimpers growing more and more shrill. Finally, Jenks relents, wrapping a firm arm around Camille’s shoulders and nearly carrying her out of the room. They vanish into the shadows of another corridor, leaving Maya alone with Hugo.

Without Jenks, the room seems to shrink, the walls closing in as if forcing her within Hugo’s reach. Maya feels more exposed, every fiber of her being screaming at her to run. But she stands her ground, tall and resolute. He needs to focus on her.

“What do you want?” she asks, her voice surprisingly firm despite the fear icing through her veins.

Hugo bursts into sharp, half-mad laughter, a sound that clenches around her heart. She has heard that laugh too many times in her nightmares, echoing through the dark hallways of the Sea View Hotel as he played at hunting her. Despite herself, she shudders, anxiety creeping under her skin like a blade of ice.

“Haven’t I made myself clear? I want you, Maya.”

His predatory grin is a vision of horror, a grotesque twist of malicious satisfaction. She fights against the nausea rising in her throat.

“Why?”

“You and I, we are the same,” he says, taking a few steps in front of the wall marked with symbols, a predator frustrated by an invisible barrier. “We are meant to be together.”

“We are not the same. I’ve never killed anyone.”

Hugo chuckles softly, his tone teetering between amusement and menace.

“No… but you speak to the dead, Maya. And where do you think that comes from?”

A shiver runs through her, like ice water pouring down her spine. She tries to defend herself, but her words lack conviction.

“It’s always been there…”

Hugo shakes his head, his smile widening. He starts pacing in front of the barrier of symbols, like a caged lion waiting for its moment to pounce.

“Really?” he asks, his eyes gleaming with a sickly light. “No special traits from grandpa or grandma? Maybe mom or dad?”

Maya freezes, lost. Why is he bringing this up? Her breath quickens, her heart pounding like a war drum in her chest. She takes a step back, trying to put distance between herself and Hugo, but his words seep in like poison.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about…”

Hugo drinks in every second. He is reveling in this. A mocking smile twists his lips as he shifts imperceptibly closer, his piercing gaze locked onto her like a predator already savoring its prey.

“Oh… I think you do,” his voice is a dangerous whisper, almost gentle, but every word cuts like a blade. “I only went from Hugo to Jimmy after dear mommy decided to remodel daddy’s face with a bat.”

Maya averts her eyes, unable to hold his gaze any longer. She takes a few steps away, but he keeps talking, his words like chains wrapping around her, leaving her no space, no time to think.

“Dig into your memories,” he continues, his tone falsely patient. “Remember little Maya… before she could see the dead.”

She shakes her head, refusing to let herself be pulled in. Her hands tremble slightly as she clenches them into fists, but it’s not enough to drown out the sound of his voice.

“You weren’t born with this gift, Maya,” he presses on, relentless, his voice a sinister caress. “It was given to you, just as I was given to Jimmy. What do you make of that?”

“Stop… stop,” she whispers, her voice a desperate breath.

She runs her hands over her face, pressing her temples as if she could crush the thoughts out of her head. She doesn’t want to think about what he’s saying. It can’t be true. It’s a lie, a manipulation.

But his words echo, digging cracks into her defenses.

“You’re not alone in there, sweet, sweet, sweet Maya,” he whispers, almost tenderly. “You are… like… me.”

These words strike Maya like a knife, stealing her breath. A raw, almost animalistic anger rises from nowhere. She lifts her eyes to him, her vision blurred with rage.

“Shut up! Just… shut up!” she screams, stepping toward him until she stops only a few inches from the invisible barrier, her voice tearing through the oppressive silence of the room.

Hugo freezes for a moment, his eyes gleaming with cruel pleasure. Then he bursts into a high-pitched, uncontrollable laugh, a sound that seems to vibrate through the walls. Maya steps closer to him, defiant as the tension between them becomes suffocating. The distance between them becomes so short that she can almost feel the heat of his breath on her skin.

“Jimmy…” she breathes, her voice low and full of defiance. “I want to talk to Jimmy…”

“Jimmy’s not available at the moment,” Hugo smiles, a smile that only makes the atmosphere darker, more threatening. “I’m in charge.”

“No… I am.”

Maya raises her hand, spreading her bloodied palm under his nose with pure provocation. Her eyes lock onto his, challenging, burning.

For a moment, Hugo stands still, his black gaze fixed on Maya’s palm. Without the sigils separating them earlier, he could have grabbed her, snapped her wrist with the same ease he would crush a fly. But he is forced to settle for glaring at her with an increasingly malicious expression, his smile slowly fading under the weight of her defiance.

“Be careful, Maya,” he finally murmurs, his voice turning colder, no trace of playfulness in his tone. “We can end this night in a less… pleasant way.”

“Perfect…” the young woman feels her heart racing, but instead of backing down, she lifts her head proudly. “Let’s do it my way.”

She holds Hugo’s dark gaze without flinching, a new strength rising in her, a strange intoxication from finally standing against him. Every word he speaks, every veiled threat he utters slides off her without touching her. Slowly, she steps back, one step after another, distancing herself from him to join Jenks. She refuses to look down, refusing to give him that victory.

Hugo’s face, until now filled with dark satisfaction, completely shuts down. A shadow crosses his features, his humor vanishing to be replaced by a cold fury.

“Maya…” his voice rumbles, deep and menacing. “Come back here… MAYA!”

But she doesn’t answer him, doesn’t even spare him a final glance. With a swift movement, she turns on her heel and strides down the dark hallway, her hurried footsteps echoing against the walls. She leaves him there, powerless.

His shouts still echo for a moment in the corridor, then, when he finally falls silent, in her mind, his words coil around her thoughts like invisible blades. He’s lying, she thinks, shaking her head to rid herself of his laughter, his venomous words. He’s lying to get to me, to break me, just like he did with Jimmy. He’s lying.

She doesn’t want to think about what he suggested. Impossible. A sound in the darkness suddenly pulls her out of her thoughts, making her jump. Jenks hurries toward her, his face marked by palpable concern.

“I heard you scream,” he explains, slowing as he approaches, scrutinizing her expression for any signs.

Surprised by the intensity of his gaze, Maya forces a smile, hiding her own tension behind a facade of confidence.

“I’m fine,” she responds in a voice firmer than she feels. “The sigils really seem to be working. He won’t follow us… for now. But I suspect he’s looking for another way out.”

Jenks nods slowly, but a skeptical glimmer remains in his eyes.

“I admit I’m surprised he hasn’t smashed every mirror he finds,” he comments, resuming his walk, his steps guiding Maya through the dark maze.

“He won’t do that,” she replies, thinking aloud. “Not for now… It would ruin his fun. He knows we’re stuck here, with him. Every mirror he spares is a way for him to prolong this twisted game.”

Jenks watches her in silence, his brow furrowing slightly as though he hesitates to ask a burning question. Then he notices the young woman’s injured hand and offers her a handkerchief, which she accepts gratefully and ties around her palm. After a long pause, he finally says:

“Don’t ever ask me to leave you alone with him again, Maya,” his voice is serious, and his words carry more weight than she expected. “It’s my job to protect you, not the other way around.”

Maya looks away, a hint of guilt brushing her, but she says nothing. They find Camille huddled against a wall, her white mask tilted in a tragic, almost desperate tilt. Maya feels a dull ache in her chest as she sees her like this. That motionless figure, stripped of all vitality, makes her feel as though she’s gazing at an empty shell.

“She’s not conscious, you know?” Jenks says softly, catching the compassionate look Maya is giving Camille. “I still have trouble accepting that we’re here, talking to the dead to try to get out of this place… It still feels… insane. So I hesitated to take off her mask. I tried talking to her, listening to her pulse… Do you remember Elias? When Hugo tore off his mask, he looked completely lost, as if he had just been suddenly awakened. It’s the same… It’s like she’s sleeping.”

“In a way, it’s a blessing that she doesn’t realize what’s going on around her,” Maya says, lifting her eyes to Jenks.

“Yeah,” he agrees with a sigh, “At least there’s that…”

They lift the young woman and continue on their way. The hallway seems to stretch endlessly, each step they take resonating with a dull echo that seems to amplify their uncertainty. The atmosphere is suffocating, saturated with the rancid smell of dampness and rotting wood. The flickering light of their flashlights intermittently illuminates the crumbling walls, revealing traces of mold and old cracks. They move slowly, unsure of where they are in the mansion’s maze, both deep in their thoughts.

“There has to be a pattern…” Jenks finally breaks the silence, thinking out loud.

“Sorry?”

“In your opinion, what’s the most important element of an investigation? The question that you absolutely need to answer?”

Maya takes a moment to think, still supporting Camille’s weight, her gaze dark.

“I guess… ‘why’?”

“Exactly. The motive. This entity—Hugo—has been possessing people from the same family for centuries, leaving a trail of violence behind. Why? What’s his goal?”

“I’m not sure there is one,” the young woman grimaces. “From what I understand, Hugo just targets people because he can. If we were to think of him like a human, I guess we could just conclude he’s a psychopath, right? You said yourself he keeps memories like one.”

“I’m still questioning that…”

He pauses, as if to make sure he has her full attention.

“There’s a fundamental difference between a psychopath and a sociopath, even though, at first glance, they can seem similar. Both lack empathy and have a blatant disregard for social or moral rules. But where they diverge is in how they function. A psychopath is cold, calculating. They’re someone who plans everything down to the smallest detail, manipulating people with almost clinical precision. They’re the puppeteers of chaos, if you will. They often integrate very well into society, they’re charming, even charismatic. People like that, you never see them coming. They feel nothing—no remorse, no guilt—but they’re incredibly methodical.”

Maya nods, following his reasoning.

“And a sociopath?”

“Much more impulsive, unstable. Where a psychopath can go unnoticed, a sociopath can’t hide their true nature for long. They’re often angry, prone to uncontrollable fits of rage. They’re not as skilled at manipulation, but they make up for it with sheer brutality. They don’t think long-term. Their pleasure lies in the act itself, in the immediate and brutal domination they exert over others. In both cases, however, their way of being and doing allows them to achieve a goal, an objective, even if it’s just for their personal gain.”

Maya furrows her brows, her gaze momentarily lost in the shifting shadows cast by their flashlight. She grits her teeth, her mind desperately trying to find a logical thread in all this chaos.

“I still don’t see a motive. But maybe, if we go back to these stories of demons and possessions, we could say that this entity is just a manifestation of evil. Something deeply wicked… and that’s it.”

Jenks thinks over her words, his features marked by exhaustion and anxiety. He finally nods slowly.

“Maybe you’re right,” he admits in a low voice, almost a whisper. “Maybe I’m desperately trying to find a rational explanation for all this so I don’t completely lose my mind.”

Maya watches his expression, reading the emotional fatigue in his eyes, which she fully shares. She offers him a light smile, almost conspiratorial, as if to lift the weight of the conversation.

“You’ll see… After a while, you just learn to accept that all this exists, without trying to explain it anymore. Or…”

She raises an eyebrow, her smile tinged with irony.

“Maybe we’re already completely crazy?”

Jenks lets out a brief laugh, a breath between humor and resignation, and his smile softens.

“Maybe so,” he says, meeting her gaze. “If that’s the case, at least we’re both crazy. It makes it a bit more bearable.”

He gives her a paternal smile, a flicker of comfort in his tired eyes, and Maya feels a soothing warmth despite the oppressive atmosphere surrounding them. She hesitates for a moment, adjusting her grip on Camille, whom she is still supporting, then looks up at Jenks, sincerity clear in her eyes.

“For what it’s worth, Inspector… I’m glad you’re here.”

Jenks, who had been distractedly watching the shifting shadows around them, freezes for a moment, surprised by her words. Then, a genuine smile lights up his weary face, softening the features marked by trial and tension. He straightens a little, as if her words have given him a little renewed strength.

“And for what it’s worth,” he responds with sincere warmth, “I’m glad you’re here too.”