The tunnel swallowed us whole, its damp walls pressing in as the metallic hum from the cellar faded into a distant echo.
I led the way, my boots splashing through shallow puddles, the witch's stone a heavy pulse in my pocket.
The air grew colder, thicker with the scent of mold and something sharper—ozone, maybe, like the air before a storm. It was Day 4, Dawn, Year 2005, and the first light of morning seeped through cracks ahead, painting the darkness with faint golden streaks.
We've been down here too long—got to get out, find answers, I thought, my grip tightening on the journal Marek had given me, its cryptic words about a pendant and my mark gnawing at me.
I glanced back at Ethan, his rope coiled tight, Lila with her glowing charm, Jenny clutching her stone, and Tara, map trembling in her hands.
They're counting on me, even if I don't know why, I reminded myself, pushing forward.
Ethan's breath rasped behind me, his bandaged leg dragging with each step. The cellar's discoveries the photo of my parents, the tablet's symbol haunted him too, I could tell.
That day he came back to an empty house… I tried to pull him from Ravenhill's chaos, he thought, his debt to me a silent vow as he scanned the tunnel for threats.
Got to keep him safe, no matter what's out there.
Lila followed, her red hair catching the dim light, the charm pulsing against her chest. I wanna get use it, grandma never told me it could even be shin brightly, i wonder if it's because of our situation, she mused, her fingers brushing the gem, her mind racing with possibilities.
Jenny limped beside her, her shoulder throbbing, her stone a steady weight in her hand. "Lila's charm saved us, but Tara's leading us blind. I don't trust it," she thought, her eyes narrowing at the map.
Tara brought up the rear, her bag sagging, her voice a whisper as she traced the path. This tunnel ends at the church—got to be right, she hoped, her confidence shaky but growing.
The tunnel widened, and the light grew stronger, revealing a stone archway ahead, its edges carved with the same jagged circle we'd seen on the tablet. I paused, my heart thudding.
The church—this is it, I thought, stepping through into a crypt bathed in dawn's glow. The air shifted, warmer now, carrying the faint tang of old incense and decay.
The crypt stretched before us, a cavernous chamber with cracked stained-glass windows casting fractured colors across the floor.
Altars lined the walls, their surfaces etched with symbols, and in the center stood a pedestal, atop which rested a leather-bound book, its cover dark and weathered, pulsing with a faint, unnatural light. The grimoire, I realized, my breath catching as I approached.
Ethan moved to my side, his rope ready, his eyes darting to the shadows. Like Ravenhill—something's watching, he thought, his focus sharpened. "Stay sharp, Caleb," he muttered, his voice low.
Lila joined me, her charm flaring brighter as she neared the pedestal. This matches the tablet's pulse— it's the relic, she said, her voice steady but awed.
I nodded, reaching for the book, but Jenny grabbed my arm. "Wait—it could be a trap," she warned, her stone raised, her distrust flaring. She's right, I thought, hesitating, my hand hovering over the grimoire.
Tara stepped forward, her map aligning with the chamber's layout. "The tunnel led us here— this is the church Marek meant," she said, her voice gaining strength.
"I saw this in my dream—the hooded figures," she recalled, her hands trembling as she pointed to a faded inscription on the pedestal: "The path to Ravenhill lies within." I traced the words, my mind spinning. Ravenhill again—my parents' photo had that address. What does it mean? I wondered, the mark on my arm tingling faintly, a sensation I brushed off as nerves.
The grimoire's cover creaked as I lifted it, its pages brittle but intact, filled with spidery script and diagrams of the jagged symbol.
Lila leaned over, her charm's glow illuminating the text. "This is old magic—chants, rituals," she murmured, flipping to a page with a sketch of a pendant.
The pendant from the journal—Ravenhill's church, she thought, her excitement tempered by caution. I read aloud, my voice echoing, "The child's blood awakens the heart's anchor—seek the pendant to break or bind." Child's blood?, They left me— this can't be about me, I thought, my confusion deepening as I closed the book.
A low rumble shook the chapel, dust falling from the ceiling. Jenny spun, her stone ready. "What was that?" she snapped, her eyes on the shadows. Ethan tensed, his rope uncoiling.
Drones or worse—I hope it's not what I it think it is, he thought, stepping between me and the noise. Lila clutched the grimoire, her charm pulsing faster. It's reacting—something's coming, she realized, her breath shallow.
Tara backed toward the archway, her map forgotten. "The ritual.....I saw happened at the end before the chaos," she whispered, her fear resurfacing.
The rumble grew, and the shadows merged together near the altar—a humanoid shape, its edges blurring, its eyes glowing with the same jagged light.
It hissed, "Caleb," its voice a distorted echo, and lunged.
I stumbled back, the grimoire slipping from my hands as Ethan swung the rope, entangling its arm. "Not again—no you don't!!", he growled, pulling me behind him.
Lila thrust the charm forward, its light flaring, forcing the entity back with a screech. It worked before—hold on, she prayed, her hands shaking.
Jenny hurled her stone, striking the entity's chest, it's chest carved in a deflated balloon like but it reformed, its claws scraping the floor. "Run!" I shouted, grabbing the grimoire and shoving it into my pack. Got to get out—we will figure this out later, I thought, my instincts kicking in as I led them toward the archway.
The entity pursued, its scream shaking the walls, but the charm's light held it at bay long enough for us to reach the tunnel. Ethan rigged a tripwire behind us, his hands swift. "this should slow it down—I hope," he planned, his will to live literally driving him.
We stumbled into the tunnel, the entity's roars fading as the charm's glow dimmed.
"looks like your right Tera, they can't come in contact with sunlight" Ethan said while chuckling.
"I wasn't lying, when I told you guys what I knew about the creatures" she said with a wry smile.
I leaned against the wall, the grimoire heavy in my pack, my mind racing.
Ravenhill— the pendant. My parents. What am I missing? I wondered, my scar tingle lingering.
Lila caught her breath, her charm dulling. "That thing knew you, Caleb," she said, her voice soft. The journal, the photo— it's tied to him, she thought, her curiosity piqued.
Jenny glared at the tunnel. "We need a plan—we saw drones and cameras still active, and those things, all of it," she muttered, her distrust simmering.
Tara nodded, her map clutched tight. The path's clear now..... Ravenhill's next, she decided, her resolve hardening.
I took a deep breath, the group's eyes on me. They're looking to me, even with this mess.
"I don't know either, even if you ask me" Caleb said with his voice unsure of what he's even saying.
Ethan face darkened for a second before he kept his head low.
"uhm... guys i think the map was left behind in the church...." Tera's voice, brought a dead silence in between the group....until.
"YOU DOOMED US!!!!!" Jenny screamed in horror.
"Am sorry, everything happened too fast, I was so scared" Tera said, with a shaky voice.
"Hey jenny, give Tera a break will ya, You were even more scared than her" Ethan said with a frown.
"No I wasn't it, I wa—"
"We don't have time for this!" Caleb voiced out with annoyance.
Got to decide, I thought, my voice steadying. "We rest, then head for Ravenhill. The pendant's our next move," I said, the journal's words echoing in my mind. Ethan clapped my shoulder, his grin faint. He's leading us right— I'll back him up, he thought, his loyalty unwavering.
Lila held the charm, her mind set. The grimoire and pendant—answers are there, she resolved. Jenny sighed, her stone ready. "If it gets us out, fine," she conceded. Tara clutched her hands, her hope renewed. Ravenhill holds the key, she believed.
The tunnel stretched ahead, the dawn light a distant promise. I adjusted my pack, the grimoire's weight a burden and a beacon. For my parent, for all of us—even if I don't know why, I vowed, the journey to Ravenhill beginning as the church's shadows faded behind us.