Adanne stared into the crackling fire as Emeka paced the small cabin, his movements restless and jittery. The weight of his words lingered in the air, heavy and suffocating.
"It'll destroy everything."
The phrase echoed in her mind, blending with memories of the altar's glow and Samuel's final, anguished expression. She clenched her hands into fists, willing herself to focus.
"How do you know so much about this?" she asked finally, breaking the tense silence.
Emeka stopped pacing and turned to her. His face was pale and sunken, his eyes haunted by things he clearly didn't want to remember. He hesitated before answering, as though weighing how much to reveal.
"Because I've seen it before," he said quietly.
---
Adanne's brows furrowed. "Seen what?"
"The ritual," Emeka said, sinking into the chair opposite her. "The sacrifices. The... creature. This isn't the first time it's happened. And it won't be the last if we don't stop it."
Adanne's heart skipped a beat. "You've been through this before?"
Emeka nodded, his gaze fixed on the floor. "Years ago. My wife was pregnant, just like you." His voice cracked, and he paused, taking a deep breath before continuing. "We thought we were safe. We thought we could escape. But it found us."
Adanne leaned forward, her pulse quickening. "What happened?"
Emeka closed his eyes, his face contorted with pain. "It took her," he whispered. "And the baby. I... I couldn't save them."
Adanne felt a chill run down her spine. "I'm so sorry," she said softly.
Emeka opened his eyes and looked at her, his expression hardening. "I swore I'd never let it happen again. I've spent years trying to understand what it is, how it works. And now..." He gestured toward her belly. "Now it's after you."
---
The fire crackled, filling the heavy silence that followed. Adanne's mind raced, piecing together the fragments of what she knew. The hooded figures, the glowing symbols, the creature—it all felt like pieces of a puzzle she couldn't quite solve.
"Why?" she asked finally. "Why does it want my child?"
Emeka sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. "It's not just your child," he said. "It's what your child represents. These creatures—they feed on life, on creation. A baby is the purest form of that. And if they complete the ritual, they'll unleash something far worse."
Adanne shuddered, her arms wrapping protectively around her belly. "How do we stop it?"
Emeka hesitated, his expression grim. "There's a way," he said slowly. "But it's dangerous. And it'll require everything you have."
---
The cabin fell into a tense silence as Emeka outlined his plan. He spoke of an ancient site deep within the forest, a place where the creature's power was weakest. The symbols from the altar, he explained, were part of a protective spell—a barrier that could seal the creature away for good.
"But the ritual wasn't finished," Emeka said, his voice low. "The barrier is weak. That's why it's still hunting you."
Adanne listened intently, her resolve hardening with every word. She had already lost so much—Samuel, her home, her sense of safety. She couldn't let the creature take anything else.
"What do I need to do?" she asked, her voice steady despite the fear bubbling beneath the surface.
Emeka studied her for a moment before nodding. "We'll need to find the site first. And then... we'll need to draw it there."
Adanne's breath caught in her throat. "You want to lure it?"
"It's the only way," Emeka said. "We can't fight it directly. But if we can trap it within the barrier, we might have a chance."
---
The night stretched on as they planned, their voices low and urgent. Emeka sketched rough maps in the dirt, marking possible locations for the site. Adanne absorbed every detail, her determination outweighing her fear.
But as the hours passed, exhaustion began to take its toll. Her body ached, her eyelids grew heavy, and the steady rhythm of the fire lulled her into a restless sleep.
---
Adanne dreamed of Samuel. He stood in a vast, shadowy expanse, his figure illuminated by a faint, golden light. He smiled at her, his expression filled with love and sorrow.
"Adanne," he said, his voice soft and echoing. "You have to be strong."
Tears welled in her eyes as she reached for him. "I can't do this without you," she whispered.
"You can," Samuel said, his voice firm. "You're stronger than you know. And you're not alone."
Adanne woke with a start, her heart pounding. The fire had burned low, casting flickering shadows on the cabin walls. Emeka sat by the window, his gaze fixed on the darkness outside.
"Couldn't sleep?" he asked without turning around.
Adanne shook her head, her throat tight. "Just... dreams."
Emeka nodded, his expression unreadable. "We'll move at first light," he said. "The sooner we find the site, the better."
---
The dawn broke over the horizon, painting the sky in hues of pink and gold. Adanne and Emeka left the cabin behind, their steps deliberate as they ventured deeper into the forest. The air was cool and crisp, but an underlying tension hung between them.
As they walked, Adanne felt a growing sense of unease. The forest seemed to watch them, its shadows shifting unnaturally. Every rustle of leaves, every snap of a twig set her on edge.
"Stay close," Emeka said, his voice low.
Adanne nodded, clutching the makeshift weapon she had fashioned from a sturdy branch.
---
Hours passed as they navigated the dense woods, following the crude map Emeka had drawn. The terrain grew steeper and more treacherous, and Adanne's body protested with every step. But she pushed through the pain, her resolve unwavering.
Finally, they reached a clearing. At its center stood a stone archway, weathered by time and covered in ancient runes. The air around it felt heavy, charged with an otherworldly energy.
"This is it," Emeka said, his voice barely above a whisper.
Adanne stared at the archway, a mixture of awe and dread washing over her. She could feel the power emanating from it, both protective and threatening.
"What now?" she asked.
Emeka turned to her, his expression grave. "Now, we prepare for the fight of our lives."