The air inside the sea cave didn't just feel cold; it felt heavy, as if the oxygen had been replaced by the weight of deep-sea pressure. Tari felt a leaden presence pressing against her soul, a psychic gravity that made every heartbeat a labor. Behind her, the rhythmic, wet rasp of exhaust-like breathing grazed her neck. It was the sound of something ancient, something made of stone and malice.
Terror, raw and primal, paralyzed her. She had thought the scuttling nightmares on the beach were the peak of the island's horrors, but they were mere carrion eaters compared to this. A living gargoyle held her, its grip like iron manacles, its skin the texture of a frozen tombstone.
"Aisha! Get away from there!"
The words tore from Tari's throat, an involuntary scream of a sister's desperation.
The gargoyle let out a vibration—a growl that rattled Tari's teeth—and lashed out. With a casual flick of its massive arm, it struck her. The sheer force sent Tari hurtling through the air like a ragdoll. She crashed against a jagged stone statue with a sickening thud that echoed through the chamber.
"Something is broken", Tari thought dimly as her vision swam in a haze of gray and red. Her body felt stiff as a fallen log, her nervous system firing flares of agony that her brain couldn't quite process. Through the blur, she saw the gargoyle advancing, its talons scraping against the cave floor with a sound like sharpening knives.
"That is enough!"
The voice was Aisha's, yet it wasn't. It sounded wrong ; a roar that vibrated with the authority of a thousand years. She wasn't just a girl anymore; she was a vessel for something that predated humanity.
The possessed child stood tall, pointing the obsidian dagger at the beast.
"Stand down, Charon. We will need her alive."
Tari watched, her heart hammering against her cracked ribs, as Aisha approached. The girl's childish demeanor had utterly vanished. In its place was an ancient terror that radiated power like heat from a furnace. Her presence felt immense, as if a mountain were trying to squeeze into the skin of an eight-year-old girl.
Aisha knelt before Tari, a diabolic smirk stretching her face into a mask of cruelty. Tari tried to reach out, to find some glimmer of her sister in those wide, vacant eyes, but the gargoyle—Charon—pinned her back down. The weight was crushing; Tari felt her windpipe begin to constrict.
"It's alright, sis. You'll be fine," the entity whispered, stroking Tari's hair with a terrifying, mocking tenderness. "Little sister will take good care of you."
Anger flickered through the fog of Tari's pain.
"You're not my sister,"
she wheezed, blood copper-sharp in her mouth. "Who are you? What have you done to Aisha?"
The thing inhabiting Aisha chuckled, a dry, rattling sound. From her peripheral vision, Tari saw movement at the cave's mouth. Outside the cave, the sky darkened as leathery wings filled the air. Hundreds of aerial monsters, like prehistoric vampire bats, larger than a cow, circled the entrance, drawn by the stench of the power radiating from the child.They were the heavy flappings she had heard earlier that night.
"Who am I? That is the wrong phrasing, Tari,"
Aisha replied, her head twitching at an unnatural angle. Suddenly, she seized a handful of Tari's hair and yanked upward. Tari let out a strangled moan of agony. "I am a what. A thing beyond your comprehension. I am a god of the old blood."
"Then why..." Tari gasped, her chest screaming, "why a child?"
"Children are pure. Unwritten, flowing with pure energy, easy to manipulate," the demon sneered. "Your sister... she is the perfect vessel."
"Vessel for what?"
"For the return," the entity whispered.
The gargoyle shifted its weight, flattening Tari's lungs. The world began to dim at the edges. The light was leaving her body, and Aisha's voice turned into a faint, rhythmic humming, like a swarm of bees in the distance. 'Am I going to die here? Tari wondered. On this cursed, forgotten island?'
Images of her mother flashed before her eyes—a sun-drenched kitchen, a warm smile. She felt her hands growing cold, the life force trickling out of her like water from a cracked jar. She saw Aisha's mouth moving, barking orders in a tongue that sounded like grinding stones, but the meaning was lost. Tari heaved one last, shuddering breath and let her eyes close.
BAM! BAM! BAM!
A series of thunderous explosions rocked the cavern. White-hot sparks of magnesium light tore through the gloom. Outside, the winged nightmares scattered with shrieks of panic.
Tari's eyes flickered open just enough to see smoldering balls rolling into the cave. They detonated in a hiss of chemical fire, filling the space with the stinging scent of sulfur and brimstone. The possessed Aisha recoiled, screaming in ancient anger, her eyes glowing like embers in the smoke.
Charon released Tari and lunged toward the source of the intrusion. Tari sucked in a desperate lungful of air, her heart jump-starting in her chest, though she remained pinned by her own exhaustion.
Through the shifting veil of smoke, a new presence stepped into the cave. It was the silhouette of a man—tall, massive, and moving with a terrifying, fluid grace.
He didn't run; he blurred. He evaded the gargoyle's first strike with an insane reflex, his body twisting mid-air.
The figure ignored the beast and charged toward Aisha. The demon-child hissed, slashing at him with the dagger, her movements jerky and supernatural. But the man was faster. He ducked a lethal blow, slipped behind her, and clamped a hand over her mouth. He held a small, glowing vial to her nose. Aisha struggled with the strength of ten men, her heels drumming against the stone, until her body suddenly went limp. Tari watched in horror as he pressed a cloth over Aisha's face.
Is he killing her? Is he another monster? Tari tried to scream, but her voice was a ghost.
The commotion intensified. Charon, having recovered from the initial shock, doubled back. It dashed with incredible speed, its heavy stone limbs cracking the floorboards of the earth. It bared claws the size of elephant tusks, aimed directly at the man's back.
Without looking, the shadowy figure reached into a tactical holster and produced a strange, makeshift torch. He clicked it on, and a beam of intense, violet light erupted from the lens.
The light hit the gargoyle full-force. The creature let out a sound that wasn't a growl, but a shriek of molecular agony. Where the violet light touched its skin, the stone began to crackle and glow. With a heavy thud that shook the entire cave, the gargoyle collapsed. Its dark, mossy hide began to turn a chalky, brittle white—like drying clay. Within seconds, it hardened into a lifeless husk of salt and mineral.
The other creatures outside fled into the night, terrified by the artificial sun the man carried.
The cave was now licking with small fires from the explosions. The figure turned toward Tari. He was carrying the now-unconscious Aisha over his shoulder like a sack of grain. Tari noticed the moldy, dark bruising on Aisha's arms—the mark of the possession—seemed to be receding under the man's touch.
He approached Tari. Up close, he was a phantom of black Kevlar and heavy fabric. His face was hidden behind a reinforced mask and a deep hood. He said nothing, his movements efficient and cold. He reached down, his gloved hand extending toward her.
"Friend? Enemy? Or something worse?" Tari looked into the dark lenses of his mask, searching for a soul, but saw only her own terrified reflection. As his hand closed around her arm, the adrenaline finally failed her. The world turned to black, and Tari passed out into the waiting silence.