Chapter Five: It Follows IV
Selene's House – Ritual Room, Edge of Detroit, Michigan
April 21, 2002 – 4:11 A.M.
The chalk circle burned with faint white fire as Selene's chant wound higher. Candles guttered, shadows pressed back. Hugh hovered in the corner, sweat slick on his brow, while Jay sat inside the circle, wide-eyed and trembling.
Keshaun stood at the threshold, hands flexing. The Force hummed under his skin like a second heartbeat. The thing was close—every instinct screamed it.
"How long you need?" he asked.
"Hours," Selene answered without pausing her chant. "If I falter, it kills us all."
"Then I'll buy those hours."
He pulled his hood up and stepped outside.
Selene's House – Front Yard
April 21, 2002 – 4:13 A.M.
Mist clung low to the ground. The boards of the porch creaked as Keshaun stepped forward.
From the tree line, the entity emerged—tall, gray, dressed in a funeral suit. Its eyes were pits, bottomless, its smile too wide.
It walked. Always walking.
Keshaun cracked his knuckles. "Come on then."
The Force surged as he thrust out a hand. Telekinetic Push ripped the air apart, slamming into the entity's chest. It staggered back, heels carving trenches in the dirt before hitting a tree with a crack that echoed across the yard. Bark split, but the thing straightened again, head snapping upright with a crunch of bone.
It kept walking.
Keshaun spat into the dirt. "Figures."
The First Hour (4:15 – 5:20 A.M.)
He sprinted forward, Force Speed igniting his muscles. The world blurred. He vaulted off the ground with Force Jump, rising high, then came down with both hands out. Shockwave blasted outward, throwing the entity back through the grass.
Dust and shards of earth exploded. For a second, Keshaun thought maybe—just maybe—that'd done something.
But the mist shifted, and the thing rose again, dragging itself upright, head twisting too far to one side.
It screamed.
The sound tore into him—not just noise, but pressure. Nails against bone. His skull throbbed, ears ringing, stomach twisting like it wanted to empty.
"Shut the fuck up!" he roared, forcing a Barrier up around his head. The sound muffled, though the strain nearly dropped him to his knees.
It lunged. Hands like claws slammed against his barrier, cracks spidering out. His arms shook, sweat dripping down his temple.
The barrier shattered, shards of Force-light bursting away like glass.
Keshaun ducked, rolling, then snapped his wrist. Telekinetic Pull yanked a broken fencepost into his hand. He wrapped it in Force Weapon, the wood glowing faintly, then swung.
The post cracked across the entity's head with the ring of metal. It staggered but didn't fall. Its hands reached, stretching, grasping.
Keshaun shoved both palms forward—Push again, raw and desperate. The entity flew back into the mud, rolled, then stood again, slower now but still moving, always moving.
The Second Hour (5:20 – 6:25 A.M.)
The ground was torn by then, pockmarked with craters. Sweat poured down Keshaun's face, his hoodie shredded by claws and near-misses. His ribs burned where he'd taken a glancing hit.
The entity changed forms: once it wore Jay's face, weeping silently. Once it looked like his mother—someone he'd never even met, just imagined. Each shift clawed at him. Force Empathy flared with borrowed guilt and fear, threatening to break his focus.
"Not fallin' for that shit," he growled.
When it rushed, he set his feet and thrust both hands low. Shockwave cracked the ground beneath it, pitching the thing sideways into a splintered tree. When it tried to climb free, he grabbed it with both fists and pulled.
For the first time, the Force answered differently. His telekinesis bit deeper—beyond flesh. He felt the weight of something wrong, something half-there. Instinct screamed and he clenched down.
Spectral Grapple.
The entity froze mid-crawl, its body jerking like it had been hooked. For two, maybe three seconds, Keshaun had it held. He felt the resistance tearing at his bones, the Force whining under the strain. Then it ripped free, throwing him back onto the dirt.
His lungs burned. He coughed blood, spat, and dragged himself up. "Yeah… got you that time, bitch."
The Final Hour (6:25 – 7:19 A.M.)
The horizon paled gray with dawn. Keshaun swayed on his feet, every breath ragged. His Danger Sense still hummed, but weaker now, each warning dulled by exhaustion.
The entity crawled toward him, broken and twisted, arms dragging through the dirt.
Inside, Selene's chant reached a crescendo. The reliquary glowed brighter, light bleeding through cracks in the boards.
Keshaun raised a shaking hand. "One last try."
The entity lunged.
He reached deeper than before, into the burning core of the Force in his chest, and shouted, "Back the fuck up!"
White-gold flared across his arms. Force Light. It sputtered, cracked, but burned bright enough that the entity recoiled, smoke curling from its skin. For the first time all night, it shrieked in pain.
Keshaun stepped forward, forcing more light into his palm. "Out!"
The glow erupted, not clean, not controlled—just raw will and desperation. A burst of cleansing energy that tore through the entity's shape, scattering pieces of it into black vapor.
Inside, Selene screamed the ritual's last words. The reliquary burst into radiance.
Light swallowed the yard.
The entity wailed, limbs unraveling into smoke, face peeling apart into nothing. Its scream stretched, cracked, and ended in silence.
Keshaun swayed. The glow on his hands guttered out. His vision tunneled.
"Man I feel like shit," he whispered, before his knees gave out.
He hit the dirt face-first, and darkness took him.