The darkness pressed in on them like a living thing. Royce's pulse hammered in his chest, each beat a reminder that something unnatural had been set into motion.
Eryndra's breath was shallow, ragged. She could sense it, too — the change in the air, the suffocating weight that seemed to press against them from all sides.
The stone walls trembled, vibrating underfoot, like the heartbeat of a giant awakening from its slumber.
And then the floor began to move.
Royce grabbed Eryndra's arm, pulling her back as the ground beneath their feet buckled, shifting like sand. From deep below the earth, there was a rumble — low and guttural, as though the house itself was growing, expanding, breathing.
They backed away toward the stairs, their steps quickening. But the once sturdy staircase that had led them down now twisted and contorted, its wooden steps warping and cracking, growing teeth like the jaws of a beast. The walls on either side of them began to breathe, the stone and mortar shifting as if the house was made of flesh.
A distant sound echoed from the darkness above — a low moan, like a suffering creature, broken and twisted.
Royce froze.
His hand clenched around the book, now burning hot, its power coursing through his veins. He could feel its ancient magic, the cursed force of the rebirth leaking into the very air, corrupting everything it touched.
Eryndra's voice broke through the silence, trembling, but firm:
"We have to leave. Now."
---
But Royce could hardly hear her. His eyes were locked on the center of the room, where the altar now stood at the heart of the shaking house. The book was open, its pages flickering wildly, as though it were alive.
From the pages, a dark mist began to seep out, swirling in the air, curling like serpents before slithering across the floor toward them.
The air grew cold, biting at their skin.
And then, from the mist, it emerged.
A shadow, tall and skeletal, draped in tattered robes. It moved with an eerie grace, its form barely visible, as though it existed only half in this world.
Royce's breath caught in his throat. His eyes locked with the thing's, and he felt its gaze pierce through him — not just his body, but his soul, like it could see every flaw, every regret, every dark corner of his heart.
The shadow stepped forward.
With each step, the house seemed to scream — a violent, cacophonous roar that shook the very foundations of the building.
The shadow's voice was low, resonating in the very marrow of their bones.
"You have opened the door, child."
The words felt like a physical blow, a strike to his chest.
Royce's hands trembled as he clutched the book. The door. He had unwittingly opened something ancient, something terrible.
"It is too late," the shadow whispered. "The house will not let you leave. It never lets its guests go."
---
Eryndra's voice cracked, her eyes wide with terror.
"Royce... we... we need to destroy it. The book—destroy the book!"
But Royce couldn't move. He was trapped in that gaze, the shadow's presence suffocating him. His mind raced, struggling to break free from its grasp.
The shadow laughed, a deep, rumbling sound that made Royce's stomach turn.
"It's not the book that must be destroyed. It is you."
---
The mist swirled thicker, closing in around them, blurring their vision. Royce could barely breathe. His chest felt tight, like an invisible weight was pressing on him from all sides. The whispers that had once been faint now screamed in his mind, a cacophony of voices demanding to be heard.
He looked at Eryndra, her eyes wide with fear, and he knew — the moment had come.
The house had awakened, and it was not done with them yet.
---
With a sudden, frantic surge of adrenaline, Royce spun toward the altar, tearing the book from its pedestal. The air around him cracked, the sound like the splitting of bone.
He held the book high, the blackness of its cover burning against his palm. The room shook violently, the ground beneath their feet splitting open. The air grew thick with the smell of rot and decay.
The shadow laughed again, this time louder, mocking.
"You cannot outrun fate."
---
Royce didn't wait for the thing to speak again. With a cry, he hurled the book into the heart of the altar, the flames from its pages flaring up like a roaring inferno.
---
And then everything stopped.
The house fell silent.
The air around them thickened, pressing in on all sides, suffocating them.
---
For one heart-stopping moment, Royce thought it was over. But then—
---
The ground beneath them cracked wide open, and from the depths, something stirred.
A low growl filled the room. A hunger far greater than any they had known.
---