Matthew Klein now knows the truth. The advent calendar was not some random antique that found its way to his doorstep by chance. It was built with purpose. Built with intent. Constructed from the charred remains of his childhood home — and from the cursed spirit board that destroyed his family thirty years ago.Wilbur Ward, the neighbor who ran toward the flames that Christmas Eve, saw something in that fire. Something that changed him. Something that compelled him to salvage the blackened wood, retreat to his shed, and craft an object of precise and deliberate malevolence before vanishing without a trace.But knowing the calendar's origin answers only part of the question. The greater mystery remains: What does it want? Why Matt? And what happens when the final door is opened on Christmas Eve — the anniversary of the night his family burned alive?Thirteen doors have been opened. Thirteen horrors have been unleashed. A man drowned. A woman crushed. Snakes coiled in a child's bed. Blood erupted from impossible spaces. And now, scattered across an icy driveway in upstate New York, dozens of human teeth lie in the snow — each one a grim promise that the calendar is far from finished.Eleven doors remain.The smoky odor that haunts Marshport. The hooded figure glimpsed at crime scenes. The apparition of Steven, smelling of ash and demanding obedience. These pieces orbit the calendar like satellites around a dark star, and Matt is only beginning to understand how they connect.He came to Bayville seeking closure. Instead, he found confirmation that the evil which took his family never truly died. It waited. It planned. And through Wilbur Ward's hands, it built itself a new vessel — one designed specifically for Matthew Klein.The calendar has rules. Matt has learned what happens when they're broken. But as the days count down toward Christmas, a more terrifying question emerges: What happens when they're followed? What awaits at the end of this twisted game?December 14th arrives with Matt still standing in Nicole Ward's driveway, bloody teeth at his feet, the calendar clutched in his trembling hands. The car crash smolders nearby. The shed full of Wilbur's creations stands open behind him.And somewhere, in the shadows between what is known and what is coming, a beast watches.

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