A crawling sound echoed through the hallway — something between nails scraping on stone and the slow crunch of bones dragging across the floor. Indra froze for a moment, the revolver shaking in his hand. Ben, struggling to get up from the ground, coughed hoarsely as blood trickled from a gash on his forehead.
Ottis, still standing at the center of the pentagram, looked like he was in a trance. His eyes were pitch black now, like empty, bottomless pits. His breathing was heavy, deep… perfectly synchronized with the red pulse emanating from the symbol on the floor.
"He is… waking up," Ottis rasped, his voice distant and hollow. "The Veil has been torn."
The room's temperature plummeted. Their flashlights began to flicker wildly, crackling in irregular bursts as if something was warping the very magnetic field around them. And then, from the darkness of the hallway, it emerged.
First came the hands: long, skeletal, with unnaturally elongated fingers and twisted joints. Then the silhouette crawled into view — contorted, grotesque, moving on all fours with its head unnaturally craned upward, defying human anatomy.
The creature looked like it was made of solid shadow. It had no skin, only a body covered in something like living soot, pulsing as if it were raw, newborn flesh. Its eyes — if they could even be called eyes — were burning holes, glowing like coals lit with black fire.
Indra could barely breathe. Every fiber of his being screamed for him to run, but his legs were frozen in place.
The creature halted at the entrance of the room, sniffing the air like a predator savoring the scent of fear.
Then it spoke.
But no words left its mouth. Instead, a chorus of countless voices reverberated inside their minds, ancient and discordant, speaking languages no human was meant to know.
> "The blood has summoned. The gate is open. Where is the traitor?"
Ottis fell to his knees and spread his arms wide, as if welcoming the creature's embrace.
"I brought you here, as commanded! The sacrifice is complete!"
The creature tilted its head, and for a moment, the entire room was swallowed in an oppressive wave of darkness. When the light flickered back, Dean was gone. No body, no blood. As if he had never existed.
The voices returned, this time furious, shaking the floor beneath their feet. The pentagram began to fade.
The creature glided forward and dissolved into a cloud of putrid black smoke, which poured into Ottis's body, snuffing out any last trace of his humanity.
Razor-sharp teeth erupted from Ottis's mouth, stretching into jagged fangs. His hands twisted into claws, skin peeling away in rancid, greenish chunks as his body contorted, growing into a monstrous, deformed humanoid with limbs too long and muscles pulsing as if they had a life of their own.
A low, guttural roar thundered down the hallways.
"No… no…" Indra gasped, pulling his shaking hand to his bag and drawing the revolver.
The thing that was once Ottis lunged with inhuman speed, claws raised to tear them apart.
BANG!
The gunshot exploded through the decaying walls of the asylum. The silver bullet struck the creature square in the chest, tearing a shriek of agony from its throat. Bones cracked, and a dark, acrid smoke billowed from the wound.
Indra didn't wait to see if it was enough. He grabbed Ben tightly, slinging his friend's arm over his shoulders, and began running through the claustrophobic hallways of the asylum.
Broken doors slammed in the wind, whispers hissed from the shadows. Ahead, pale moonlight streamed through shattered windows — the way out.
They sprinted toward it. Behind them, the creature roared, shaking the building's foundations. Doors flew open by themselves, windows shattered inward, and old symbols ignited across the asylum's walls, burning with invisible fire.
The darkness chased them like a ravenous beast. But they were still alive.
At least for now.