Adanne stumbled out of the dense forest into an open field bathed in the golden light of the setting sun. Her legs felt like lead, and her body ached with exhaustion, but the sight of the clearing offered a small comfort. She paused to catch her breath, her hand instinctively cradling her belly.
"We made it," she whispered to herself, though her voice sounded hollow.
Her thoughts were a whirlwind of grief and fear. The weight of Samuel's sacrifice still pressed heavily on her heart, but the quiet movement of her child reminded her that she couldn't stop now.
---
The field stretched out before her, dotted with wildflowers and overgrown grasses. In the distance, she spotted the faint outline of a structure—a small cabin, its wooden frame weathered by time.
Adanne hesitated, her instincts warning her against trusting what might be another trap. But the sharp pangs of hunger and the need for shelter overpowered her caution.
With slow, deliberate steps, she made her way toward the cabin.
---
The cabin was old but sturdy, its windows covered with grime and its door slightly ajar. Adanne stood at the threshold, her heart pounding as she pushed the door open with trembling hands.
The interior was dark, illuminated only by the fading light of the setting sun. Dust motes floated in the air, and the faint smell of mildew lingered. A simple table and chair sat in the corner, and a small fireplace was built into one wall.
Adanne stepped inside cautiously, her eyes scanning the room for any signs of danger. When she found none, she let out a shaky breath and closed the door behind her.
---
She sank into the chair, her body trembling with fatigue. For the first time since the ordeal began, she allowed herself to feel the weight of everything she had endured. Tears streamed down her face as she thought of Samuel, his voice echoing in her mind.
"You're stronger than you think," he had said.
Adanne wiped her tears and looked around the cabin. She needed to gather her strength, both for herself and for her child.
The fireplace caught her attention, and she moved toward it, searching for anything that could help her start a fire. She found a small stack of dry wood and some flint, and after several attempts, she managed to ignite a small flame.
The warmth of the fire filled the cabin, and Adanne felt a flicker of hope.
---
As she rested, her mind wandered back to the altar and the creature that had pursued them. The glowing symbols, the guttural roars, and the collapsing cavern replayed in her mind like a nightmare.
But something about the altar still lingered in her thoughts. The energy it had unleashed, the way it had consumed the creature—it felt unfinished, as though the danger wasn't entirely gone.
Adanne placed a hand on her belly, her thumb tracing small circles. "I'll protect you," she whispered. "No matter what."
---
The quiet of the cabin was broken by a faint noise outside—a rustling in the grass. Adanne froze, her ears straining to catch the sound.
There it was again.
Her heart raced as she grabbed a broken chair leg from the corner, holding it tightly like a makeshift weapon. She moved toward the window, her movements slow and deliberate.
Peering out through the grime-covered glass, she saw nothing but the swaying grass. But the uneasy feeling in her gut remained.
"Is someone there?" she called out, her voice trembling.
Silence.
Adanne backed away from the window, her grip on the chair leg tightening. The fire crackled softly behind her, but the warmth no longer felt comforting.
The noise came again, louder this time—a scraping sound against the wooden wall of the cabin.
Adanne's breath caught in her throat as she pressed her back against the wall, her mind racing. Was it the creature? Had it somehow survived? Or was it something else entirely?
---
The door creaked open slowly, and Adanne's heart nearly stopped. She raised the chair leg, ready to defend herself, but what stepped inside wasn't what she expected.
A man stood in the doorway, his figure silhouetted against the fading light. His clothes were tattered, and his face was gaunt, as though he hadn't eaten in days.
"Please," he said, his voice hoarse. "I'm not here to hurt you."
Adanne hesitated, her grip on the chair leg unwavering. "Who are you?"
The man held up his hands in a gesture of surrender. "My name's Emeka," he said. "I've been running too. From... from the same thing you're running from, I think."
Adanne studied him, her instincts on high alert. "How do you know what I'm running from?"
Emeka stepped inside cautiously, closing the door behind him. "I saw it," he said, his voice low. "The creature. The hooded figures. I've been hiding in these woods for weeks."
Adanne's grip on the chair leg loosened slightly, but she didn't lower it. "Why should I trust you?"
Emeka met her gaze, his eyes filled with a mixture of fear and desperation. "Because I know what it's after. And I can help you stop it."
---
Adanne's mind raced. She didn't know if she could believe him, but something about his voice, the fear in his eyes, made her pause.
"What do you mean?" she asked, her voice steady despite the fear bubbling beneath the surface.
Emeka stepped closer, his movements slow and deliberate. "That thing," he said, "it's not just after your child. It's after something much bigger. And if we don't stop it, it'll destroy everything."
Adanne's heart sank as she listened to his words. She didn't want to believe him, but deep down, she knew he was right.
"What do we do?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
Emeka glanced at the fire, his expression grim. "First, we survive the night," he said. "And then we find a way to finish what you and Samuel started."
Adanne's grip on the chair leg loosened completely, and she sank into the chair by the fire. She didn't know if she could trust Emeka, but for now, he was her only ally.
And she needed all the help she could get.