The night in the settlement was unnaturally still. Not the gentle quiet of a resting village—but the heavy, pressing absence of life, as though the air itself was holding its breath.
Adesewa stood at the entrance of the abandoned shrine, her lantern flickering against the cracked walls. The faint symbols carved into the stone pulsed faintly, the same symbols she had seen in her nightmares. She ran her fingers over them and felt a shiver rush through her bones.
She wasn't alone.
A low scraping echoed from deep within the shrine—metal against stone, slow and deliberate. Adesewa tightened her grip on the lantern. The air grew colder with every step she took inside, her breath fogging in the stale darkness.
"Don't step further."
The voice came from her left, but when she turned, there was no one. Just the shadow of a statue—the goddess with hollow eyes, her mouth open in an eternal scream.
Adesewa swallowed, forcing her voice to remain steady. "Who's there?"
The scraping stopped. Then, the voice again, closer this time: "You carry her blood. You should have stayed away."
Something moved in the darkness—a shifting form, almost human, almost not. Its limbs bent at strange angles, and its face was an empty void. The darkness seemed to cling to it, feeding off the faint glow of her lantern.
Adesewa stepped back, but her heel hit something. She glanced down—and froze. The floor beneath her was littered with bones. Not mm clean bones, but ones wrapped in the tattered remnants of clothing, with deep, claw-like marks carved into them.
The thing in the darkness spoke again, each word dripping with malice.
"She hid the truth from you. Mama Nnenna thought she could bury the curse beneath holy stone. But it is not the seal that holds me… it is you."
Her chest tightened. "What do you mean?"
The void-faced figure leaned forward, its form stretching impossibly long, its hands curling into thin, sharp digits. "You… are the last thread. When you break, the gate opens."
Suddenly, the statue behind her cracked. A sound like a thousand whispers poured into her ears, each one clawing at her mind. She dropped the lantern—the flame sputtered and died, plunging her into complete darkness.
But the whispers didn't stop. They grew louder, clearer. They spoke in the language she didn't remember learning, yet understood perfectly. They told her of the betrayal that bound her bloodline to the Hollow Silence. They told her of the first breaking—the moment the seal had almost shattered. And they told her what would happen when the second breaking came.
Her pulse roared in her ears. Something cold wrapped around her ankle. She tried to pull away, but it was like being gripped by ice that burned. The figure's voice rose above the whispers:
"It begins with you screaming in the dark."
The thing yanked her forward, dragging her into the deeper black. She clawed at the floor, her nails scraping stone. A sudden blinding light exploded from above—pure, searing, and ancient. The shadow recoiled with a screech that rattled the shrine's walls.
A silhouette appeared in the light—tall, cloaked, holding a staff carved with the same symbols on the shrine walls. The voice was deep, resonant, and unwavering.
"Release her, Hollow One. She is not yours—yet."
The darkness peeled back, hissing, retreating into cracks and corners. Adesewa gasped for breath, the icy grip loosening. The figure in the cloak knelt beside her, and though she couldn't see his face, she felt the weight of his gaze.
"Adesewa… the seal is thinning. You have less time than you think."
Before she could speak, the light faded, and the cloaked figure was gone. Only the chill remained, and in the deepest shadows, something waited… smiling.