As the group ventured deeper into the dark heart of the temple, the air grew colder, heavier, and more oppressive. Each step felt like they were spiraling further into the jaws of something malevolent. For Edric, every second was a battle. The voice, once a distant murmur, now clawed at him with increasing ferocity. "Reclaim it... embrace the power... it is yours..." The words crawled inside his head, pressing against his skull with unbearable pressure.
His heart hammered in his chest as his breathing quickened. I can handle this, he thought, trying to summon the focus he needed. I just need to block it out... His jaw clenched, eyes narrowing with forced determination. He knew a ward, a spell to block the insidious call's intrusion. If he could just cast it—maybe then he could think clearly again.
But as he muttered the incantation, the dark energy seemed to coil tighter around him. A chill like icy fingers slid down his spine, and his words faltered. The pressure in his mind intensified, suffocating.
Something's wrong.
Edric's eyes widened in sudden realization, but it was too late. The ward, instead of shielding him, shattered under the might of the malevolent force.
Crack.
The once-faint murmurs exploded into a violent, echoing command: "You will take the power... you belong to it now!"
Edric gasped, stumbling forward as if struck. The evil wasn't just a presence—it had become a storm, ripping through his mind with an unbearable force. His vision blurred, the edges of the temple distorting as if the walls themselves were closing in, warping under the pressure of the dark presence now flooding his mind.
No... He clutched his head, his fingers digging into his temples as he struggled to fight it, but the murmur wouldn't relent. It thundered inside him, no longer a whisper but a roar, dragging him down. His legs buckled beneath him, and he staggered, desperately trying to regain control. The temple around him became a swirl of shadows, its ancient stone walls twisting as if alive.
His breath came in ragged gasps now, sweat beading on his forehead. Every breath felt like he was breathing in poison, the dark energy seeping into his lungs, his veins, his very soul. "You belong to it now!" The words pounded in his head, an iron grip tightening around his chest, making it impossible to breathe.
His heart raced, each beat growing erratic, desperation rising as he realized his mistake. I can't stop it. I can't—
"Edric!" Kyrntar's shout cut through the fog of terror, sharp and commanding. Edric turned, his wide eyes finding Kyrntar's steady gaze, but the world around him continued to distort. He couldn't focus. The echo wouldn't stop. "Edric, what's happening?"
"I—" Edric tried to speak, but the words tangled in his throat. His body felt heavy, like lead, the dark presence sapping his strength. The truth clawed at his chest, but he couldn't say it, couldn't admit that he'd made a terrible mistake. He stumbled again, his vision darkening at the edges, and for the first time, true fear slithered into his mind.
His fear broke through the surface. "It's in my head," he choked out, barely able to form the words as his voice shook. "I tried to stop it... but it's—it's too strong. I can't—" His hands trembled violently, the sweat now dripping down his face as his body convulsed under the pressure of the growing darkness.
Marra, standing a few paces behind, watched with widening eyes, her heart seizing in her chest as she saw Edric faltering. No, not again... The fear in her surged, an all-too-familiar panic clawing into her. But this time, she couldn't freeze. She forced her feet to move, rushing toward him. "Edric! You have to fight it!"
But Edric couldn't fight. The call inside him had become something else now—something darker, something ancient. It dug into his very soul, pulling at every corner of his mind, demanding submission. "You are mine."
The words wrapped around him like chains, dragging him deeper into a nightmare. He could feel it—it—moving inside him, taking hold. He gasped, struggling to breathe, the shadows swirling tighter around him as the world tilted and spun. He wasn't just hearing the spectar anymore. It was inside him, pushing him, tearing him apart from the inside out.
He fell to his knees, his hands still clutching his head, his cry breaking into a pained whisper. "Kyrntar... Marra... help..."
The oppressive darkness of the temple had taken on a life of its own, seeping into every crack, every breath. Each step forward felt like descending further into a suffocating abyss. The frigid stone beneath their feet seemed to pulse with malevolent intent, the walls closing in, the air thick with unseen malice.
Kyrntar was desperate. The creeping evil had infected his team, had sunk its claws deep into Edric's mind, but why not him? Why hadn't it touched him? He gripped his greatsword so tightly his knuckles whitened, sweat dripping down his brow as he scanned the shadows, searching for the source of the wickedness that now threatened to unravel everything.
"Damn it, Edric, stay with us!" Kyrntar's plea cracked with urgency, his calm resolve beginning to fracture. His heart pounded in his chest, louder than the hollow echoes of their steps, louder than the faint mutters in the dark. But Edric barely moved—he could barely speak.
The once cocky and confident archer was hunched over, eyes glassy with pain, his face ashen. He staggered forward like a puppet with its strings cut, hands clutching his temples as if trying to squeeze the monster out of his skull. His breaths came in ragged gasps, his lips moving in whispers that no one could hear.
Kyrntar… Marra… His mouth formed the names, but the words barely escaped his throat. The storm raging inside his mind was relentless, a cacophony of demands that tore at his sanity.
You are mine… you will reclaim the power… embrace it… The darkness was no longer just speaking to him; it was him, consuming every thought, every shred of his identity, devouring him from within. He winced as another wave of pain rippled through his skull, collapsing against the wall, his fingers gripping the freezing stone as if it could ground him, pull him back from the brink. But the darkness only deepened.
Marra's heart was a hammer in her chest, her stomach twisted into knots of terror. She was shaking, not from the numbing but from the creeping dread that slithered through her veins. She could feel it—whatever had Edric in its grip—hovering at the edges of her own mind, like a shadow waiting to pounce. If it has him… when will it come for me?
Her wide eyes flickered between Edric and Kyrntar, the alarm in her chest swelling with every agonized groan that escaped her childhood friend. "Edric, please—just hold on!" Her soul wavered, the fear gnawing at her composure, tearing through her like claws raking across her skin. She was terrified, so terrified, but she couldn't freeze again. Not like last time… not now.
She fumbled with her holy symbol, trying to summon the words for a prayer, trying to force her trembling hands to glow with healing energy, anything to ease his suffering. But the words stuck in her throat. Every attempt to speak faltered. Her mind screamed at her to run, to get away from the oppressive, mind-twisting horror pulling at them from every shadow.
"Marra!" Kyrntar barked, his tone sharper than the edge of his blade. But he knew—he knew this was beyond healing spells or prayers. The evil here was ancient, insidious, and it was devouring Edric before their eyes.
Edric, now barely standing, stumbled toward them. His breath came in jagged bursts, his eyes wide but unfocused, bloodshot from the strain. The light in his gaze—the spark of who he had been—was almost gone, snuffed out by the darkness ravaging his mind. He was slipping, falling into something none of them could reach. His lips moved again, barely forming the words, "Help... me..."
Marra's breath hitched as she tried to step forward, but her legs felt like lead, her whole body trembling. If this is happening to him… how long until it comes for me? The thought clawed at her insides. She was helpless. She couldn't help him, couldn't save him, couldn't even save herself. The terror wrapped itself around her throat, choking off her prayers, her courage. All she could do was stand there, shaking, the horror spreading through her like poison.