Angelica Sigfried was never found. It was as if she had vanished off of the face of the earth. The smoldering embers of Hawthorn house would become a cautionary tale. While Angelica was gone, no one would ever go missing thanks to the house again. The cinders of the house would go out after a few weeks. While it was proven that stepping upon the foundations of the house were not hazardous, everyone still looked over their shoulders over the looming presence of the house. Even its corpse was enough to strike terror.

The town had added the names of Ulysses’s companions to the graveyard, hopefully giving them a final resting place, despite the lack of bodies. Recovering from his injuries, Ulysses would visit them regularly, and paid special attention to Illyana’s grave. On the final day before Ulysses would need to leave, he would visit her grave.

He bought her some flowers and laid them down.

“Illyana… I won’t be able to visit for quite some time. I’m going to have to return and make things better. The town pitched in and gave me some money to start over again.”

He hesitated to speak. He choked up and bit his lower lip, looking away from the grave for a moment.

“...But I will see you again. I promise you that. I will see you again.”

He sat down on the ground and slammed his fist on the tombstone.

“It's not fair… I should be worm food, not you. Your only crime was you didn’t know how to control your magic as a child. I…I killed people. Innocent people who I murdered because I was afraid. You should be standing here, not me.”

He began to sob like a baby. After a few moments of letting his emotion run wild and free, he stood up.

“But you aren’t standing here. I survived. I promise you, I’m not going to make your sacrifice go in vain. I’ll quit drinking. I’ll use the money to buy myself and Tabitha a life. A good life. A life she deserves. A life I was too wrapped up in my own self pity to give her.”

He pushed the flowers up closer to the base of the grave.

“Thank you…”

He turned and left. Life for Ulysses would change. He ventured back home to give Tabitha the good news. He was a changed man, through and through. It wasn’t as much money as he had hoped, but it was enough. Not a single copper would go into drinks. He bought a nice plot of land out in the country and built himself a homestead with his own two hands, his sweat, blood and tears.

A part of him felt guilty that he returned, and the Remington brothers did not. Once the homestead made some coin, he would send what little he could give to them, praying that they would be able to make it through the difficult times. The boys of the Remington farm managed to pick up the slack on their own. The oldest among them took the step to become the men of the house and take care of their mothers and sisters. They would survive and rebuild, eventually thriving.

As for Ulysses himself, another great gift was given unto him one stormy night when his daughter was born. An adorable little girl who gained her mothers beautiful blue eyes. Ulysses swore he saw stars in them, especially all the times she laughed. They thought of a very fitting name for her: Hope.

His homestead prospered, and soon enough they were practically growing gold. The kingdom was very much in need of produce, and Anderson farmstead was only too happy to oblige. For ten glorious years, they lived in peace, away from the troubles of the world. Here they could live in peace.

One night, Ulysses sat down next to Hope and was finishing up a story.

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“And so the wolf and the boy lived happily ever after. The End.”

He closed the book as Hope piped up and clapped her hands.

“Again, daddy! Again!”

“Ohoho sweetie, I can’t. It's bedtime.”

Hope pouted and lowered her head.

“Awww.”

“Now come on.”

Ulysses chuckled heartily and brushed the little girl’s head.

“Don’t be like that. I’ll read another story tomorrow, okay?”

“Please don’t go, daddy. Please stay.”

Ulysses raised an eyebrow and leaned closer

“Why’s that?”

“The monster will come…”

“Monster. Ah. It's going to be alright, sweetie. No monster is ever going to hurt you. Not while I’m here.”

He smiled and gave her a kiss on her forehead. She looked at him, frowning with disapproval. She lowered her head and covered herself with her warm blanket as Ulysses blew out the candle. He stepped outside, getting one last look at her.

“Goodnight, my little princess. I love you.”

He smiled and closed the door. He turned around to head downstairs, yet when he saw what was before him, his eyes widened with horror as he saw an all too familiar room. No candles were lit, yet he could make the outline of every bit of furniture. The ugly wallpaper, and the rancid smell. It was the living room of Hawthorn house.

He turned around, his hand still on the doorknob. It was the front door entrance to the house. He tried to open it, but it refused to give. He let go of the door and entered the living room properly.

It all dawned on him at that moment. Did he really think it was that easy? Did he really believe that he could kill Hawthorn house that easily? Kill it? How foolish. He realized in that moment that everything he went through, the past ten years of his miserable life were nothing more than a fabrication.

All of it was a lie. He had nothing: no loving wife to comfort him, no house he built with his own two hands, no child to give him a reason to live, nothing.

This sad and pathetic excuse for a man thought that his story would end by slaying the terrible monster at the end. He thought he would live happily ever after as if this were some children's story? No. He deluded himself the moment he thought he could best the house. Best it… Now the wretch understood that only one “ending” was fit for him. One that it designed.

Ulysses began to cackle like a raving lunatic. His mind shattered into thousands of shards. Tears streamed down his face as he fell to his knees, laughing as loud as he could. Hawthorn house still stood proudly upon its hill; its throne. He thought he was clever, yet he was just another unwitting prey animal that wandered into the maws of a greater predator. A fly that landed into the jaws of a venus flytrap.

He did more damage to the house than any other fool who wandered into it, and inspired the house’s wrath. Ulysses could not be frightened by the images of the family he killed. He conquered that fear. So what was the house to do? It gave him a new fear. It gave him a beautiful lie. The perfect life that he could have lived. He had everything, and then the house ripped it away from him. Ten years, it made him suffer.

The house took no one else, instead focusing on torturing Ulysses until the end of his days. Only when Ulysses would die would it seek to spread its misery again. Until such time has come, the house was content. The night was filled with the laughter of Ulysses, echoing louder than any screams that house desired for them to hear. It taunted those that lived here, but had nowhere else to go, showing its dominance like a successful predator.

Ulfric: the village elder sobbed as he heard the laughter, even more terrified than the screams he would have been used to hearing.

He covered his head with the pillow, trying to drown out the terrible laughter. He muttered to himself as he wept.

“Why? Why?! Why don’t they listen?! Why don’t they ever listen?...”

THE END