Somewhere below the ground, in a gloomy, scarcely lit underground stone chamber, the shadow of a lone figure could be seen sitting cross-legged on the ground. Donned in old dark brown patched fabric, with his face carefully hidden behind under a baggy hood, he stood at the center of the room. Around him, a pentagram was painted on the floor with blood-red color.
Along each of its edges and vertices, a white candle was burning, providing the obscure, eerie lighting.
He was the only figure in this forsaken underground room that felt more like a crypt, than anything else. A crypt, a final resting place for a being that traveled the Earth, silently protecting the unaware citizens throughout the centuries, whilst desperately searching for a cure.
He was looking for a resolution for the curse that plagued him and many others before him, slowly eating away their soul, leaving nothing but an empty husk behind. Darkness. The mysterious void.
Unfortunately, in the end, just like the many others before him, he failed. He was still too weak. His body and soul submitted to the curse, slowly but surely embracing the corruption.
Raising his gaze, he waved with his black leather glove-covered right hand in the air. From this simple motion, a black transparent image appeared, stably floating in the air at his eye level. Upon it, a countdown could be seen with bloodied, scarlet letters as they continued their slow but steady descent towards a dreaded moment.
[ …:::Time Remaining: 01 Hours 04 Minutes 27 Seconds:::…]
An annoyed snort came from under the hood, the figure scoffed, angrily waving with his hand, washing the image away with it, causing it to vanish just as mysteriously as it appeared.
"It should be enough. Once she arrives, I can begin…" He muttered with a hoarse, breaking voice. In the end, his words turned into heavy coughing, splurting a handful of blood on the dusty floor in front of him.
Despite the obvious difficulty he continued mumbling as soon as the fit subsided.
"…I am sorry, child, for placing such a heavy burden, and such a cruel fate on you. I truly am… but I am too weak now, I can't hold on anymore…"
Once again, his words turned into a series of bloody splurts, as he resumed his coughing.
"She should arrive soon… I need to get ready…" He muttered, once again after his lungs calmed down.
He reached for the left and light edges of the hood still covering most of his head. He hesitated, he didn't want his beloved Sera to see him in this ugly state… but, he knew there was no other way. He couldn't entrust such a task to anybody else after all.
Heaving a heavy sigh and steeling his resolve, he slowly pulled against the fabric, slowly revealing a face, hidden behind a black, ebony-colored, metallic, demon-faced mask. Long, white unkempt hair burst from the receding shadows, cascading all the way down, past his shoulder, reaching halfway down to his back.
As if he accomplished something grand, the man heaved a heavy sigh. Giving himself a few seconds to calm down, he resumed to take off the layers that he was hiding behind. His right hand reached for the thin mask, that strangely, despite not having any straps on its sides, held itself firmly on the figure's face.
Grabbing the edge of the mask, azure-colored bolts of lightning zapped through the surface, as it slowly detached itself from its master's skin, revealing an old, wrinkled, sickly visage. White, bloodless, sickly skin covered with deep cuts, gashes all around. A pair of fully dark, black eyes gazed at the demonic item, reminiscing the countless years it served him faithfully.
"It's time to pass it on… Serve him just as well as you did me for all these years…"
The ancient, archaic wrinkles on the man's face slowly moved, contorting into a hideous grin-like smile. This item, this artifact, was a key to him lasting more than any of his predecessors. With 350 years, he was the longest living host of all of those before him.
Still, in the end, he couldn't find a resolution for this curse, for this mutation… This… virus… He couldn't thwart the disaster, he could only place all his hope on this one final gamble.
The sound of footsteps awoke the figure from its lamentation. Straightening his back, he closed his eyes. He patiently waited, listening as the graceful steps got closer and closer.
The blonde girl wearing the same business suit, appeared in the doorway, in her hands, she carried a black ancient-looking brown suitcase.
She looked at the man in front of him with a heavy, complex look on her beautiful face.
"Master, here's the crystal." Resuming her trek, she approached the figure, stopping just outside the painted pentagram. Making sure her black leather high heels didn't smear any of the paint, nor did it disturb any of the candles she gave a deep, respectful bow to the figure standing in the middle.
Shifting her conflicted gaze, she admired the aged figure's terrible condition, not minding his horrendous look a bit. Taking a deep breath to collect her thoughts, she parted her lips, asking the question she already voiced multiple times in the last couple of hours.
"My lord… are you really, truly sure about this? Is this really the only way?" She spoke, continuing only muttering the next words under her breath, knowing full well that her master with her heightened senses will be able to hear it without issues. "I don't want to lose you… You are my only family…"
The old man did not speak but slowly opened his dark eyes. He joined his hands together, forming a praying pose, and began to silently mutter something, whispering under his breath.
Several minutes have passed, before the old man, stopped with his prayer. For the first time since she arrived, he raised his eyes and gazed at the blonde girl who kept looking at him with the same conflicted, sorrowful expression on her face, whilst carefully holding the small leather bag in her hand.
Shifting his gaze, he glanced over at the small leather suitcase she was holding with such care. From the outside, it was just an average relic from a couple of centuries ago, nothing special. However, the object it contained in its belly was the most mysterious object through the times. Such a small, meaningless crystal, one that you could find millions if not billions throughout the planet. Yet, this one was special, unique, the only one of its kind.
Not many knew about its existence and even less would have dared to dabble with it.
Still, knowing full well of the dangers, the old man revealed a contented, satisfied smile as his eyes scanned the meaningless-looking small leather suitcase.
Nodding, his lips parted, speaking a few words only.
"Perfect. This is the one, I can feel it. Give it to me." He reached for the case, taking it over from the woman, who, after doing so, stepped back several steps, silently.
She looked with forced calmness, however, her blurry eyes betrayed her true feelings.
Holding the small suitcase, the old man waved once again in the air with his right hand. A moment later, the same dark image appeared, floating in the air, with the blood-red, scarlet countdown reaching closer and closer to the deadly finish line.
Grabbing the brown leather bag, he hurriedly reached inside. Feeling the cold, smooth surface of the treasured artifact inside, he carefully grabbed it with his right hand, pulling it out and revealing it for the first time.
In his hands, a dark, black-colored crystal was visible. The transparent crystalline walls tightly held the eerie, ominous dark gaseous substance.
Seeing as the monstrous energy swirled with excitement as it seemingly realized that its time has finally come, the old man waved with his hand once again, summoning the dreaded screen with the countdown once again.
[ …:::Time Remaining: 00 Hours 08 Minutes 13 Seconds:::…]
Seeing that he only had a little over 8 minutes left, he sighed, shaking his head.
He was about to speak, give the final command to this demonic curse, only to find that the words were stuck in his throat, refusing to acquiesce to his commands.
He turned to look at the lone, blonde woman, the only person that stuck with him for all his years. His most faithful servant, whom he truly, wholeheartedly considered his daughter, his only family just like the girl remarked silently earlier.
"My dear Sera…" He whispered weakly. He knew he was out of time, but he just couldn't leave without saying his farewells properly. Despite the harshness, the difficulty in doing so, he forced himself to speak what was in his heart, forcing the coughs back down for one last time.
"My dear Sera…" He repeated, swallowing a big gulp before continuing. The blonde woman who stood further away, watching intently at the ritual, chuckled, almost breaking her stoic, stern, strong visage just with a mere mentioning of her name.
Clenching her fists tightly, she nodded, awaiting his master's last words.
"My dear daughter… Although my time is up, and I will leave this world shortly, my legacy will live on with you… I know that the final mission that I am giving you will be a long and arduous journey, but I know that you will be able to do it… Whoever will be the next host, please, watch over him or her…"
He stopped his speech, as yet another coughing fit burst forth from his lungs, splurting another handful of blood on the ground. He took a few short moments to collect himself as he continued with a forced smile on his face.
"...Watch over the one it chooses, but remember to keep your distance until he awakens. It may be hard to hold yourself back at times, due to the nature of the horrible fate this curse will bring forth, you will have to stay strong. Suffering will be important in shaping the mind… For you and for the boy or girl…"
Nodding, Sera spoke with a faint, meek voice. Her tone, which was on the verge of breaking into a desperate, sorrowful cry, was like daggers to the old man's heart.
"Yes, master. I will do so as per your request."
The old man, listening to her, shook his head gently.
"My child, I am your master only for a few more minutes… Stay strong, I…" He couldn't finish his words, he wasn't strong enough. The word, the concept was just too hard for his ancient heart to grasp.
Sera did not respond, but the defiant look was a clear tell of what her true feelings were. She stepped to the side, returning to the somber silence, watching the completion of the ritual.
Knowing time was running out, the old man did not waste any more time either. He glanced at the floating dark screen in front of him, a scorn appeared on his face.
"Even if I lost, you will not be victorious either…" He muttered tightly clenching at the dark crystal.
His eyes suddenly lit up, the black void that was his sclera rapidly transformed to blood red. The small flames on the candles twisted, changing their orange gradient and matching the color of the pentagram.
In the next moment, a silent breeze whisked through, carrying a mysterious, otherwordly cold with it, blowing the candles off one by one, following the pentagram's outer layers.
Once the last candle was blown the old man crushed the crystal and hurriedly digested it, making sure that none of the eerie dark cloud could escape. As the energy spread around his body, a mysterious whirlpool appeared in the depth of his soul, sucking in everything it could with lightning speed.
The whirlpool gradually grew in size, soon breaking through the spiritual plane and making its presence known in the real world as well. The old man's figure began to distort as the mysterious swirling, chaotic energy engulfed his very being.
Before his figure completely disappeared, his last words were carried by the cold wind, reaching the silently standing blonde girl's ears.
"Once the ritual is complete, grab the crystal and swallow it! It will take you to your destination! Goodbye, my sweet daughter..."
Unable to contain his grief any longer, Sera's tears finally burst forth, her sadness erupted into a sorrowful cry. She raised her arms towards the floating, chaotic whirlpool of energy, as she cried out, hoping that his dear master, no, his dear father would hear her words.
"Goodbye, Father… I will miss you..."
The whirlpool continued to madly suck in the air, processing it and turning it into even more energy. As time continued to pass, reaching the critical point, it suddenly shrunk in size, turning into a singular dark seed that floated in the air.
Before Sera could react and think that the ritual was complete, the dot exploded in a loud shockwave erupted, blustering, roaring in the small underground chamber, shaking its ancient walls.
The explosion, which was accompanied by a bright, blinding white light forced Sera to avert and shield her gaze for a moment.
A few moments later, as the dust began to settle, the light began to fade, and the room returned to an eerie silence, Sera was focusing to see through the cloud that was still too thick to see through.
However, as the cloud continued to dissipate and she could finally see through it, her knees buckled she fell on the ground. Her last bits of mental barrier that so far managed to hold back most of the grief and sorrow was finally broken through, she burst into a painful, wretched cry.
At the middle of the pentagram, where the old man was just a moment ago, just the same floating dark, eerie-looking crystal was visible as it gently floated in the air. The old man, the master, and the father were nowhere to be seen...