Charlotte just went to sleep with her thoughts heavy as stones, the small shining from the shattered mirror's shard piece still playing in her memory. But her dreams were not peaceful after the experience.
She stood in a clearing that was designed in silver moonlight. The air was very hard and filled with tension, and she could hear small whispers as if coming from a distant location, the same whispers that had haunted her making her wake in hours. Shadows moved at the edges of the forest, watching, and waiting.
In the center of the clearing was an ancient stone altar, worn out and cracked. Around it were figures standing and dressed in hooded dark clothes, their faces covered. One by one, they began to chant, their voices rising in a smooth, rhythmic tempo.
Charlotte's eyes moved to the girl standing near the altar while she was checking around the place. She looked no older than twenty, her face soft but aggressive. Charlotte's mouth remained open as she realized the girl looked just like her, a lookalike image, down to the smallest detail
The chanting became louder, and the air around became filled with unnatural energy. The girl was forced to climb the altar, her wrists bound with dark ropes. She struggled, her eyes wide and filled with terror, but the cloaked figures held her firmly to avoid escaping or any form of shifting from her.
"No!" Charlotte screamed, but her voice wasn't heard due to the wind. She was powerless, an invisible observer trapped in the nightmare.
The leader of the figures raised a knife, its blade shining in the moonlight. The girl's screams penetrated the air, and the chanting reached its climax. As the blade came down, a blinding light came alive from the altar, and Charlotte felt herself being pulled backward, away from the scene.
Charlotte woke up with a jolt of energy, her heart racing. Sweat was all over her body even the bed was soaked with the sweat, and her hands kept shaking as she held onto the bedcovers. The vision had felt so real as if she had been there in person.
Her door opened with a creaking sound, and Jack stepped inside, his face filled with concern immediately he saw Charlotte.
"You screamed," he said, his voice low. "Are you alright?"
Charlotte shook her head, still trying to catch her breath. "I had a dream in fact a nightmare. There was a girl who looked just like me, and... she was sacrificed."
Jack's expression darkened. "It wasn't just a dream. It's a memory."
Charlotte stared at him, her breath was still coming in bits. "A memory? What are you talking about?"
Jack sat on the edge of the bed, his tone licking his lips. "The curse isn't just a burden for the Hargrove family, it's a cycle. Each chosen one carries pieces of memory from the past within them. The girl you saw wasn't just a random victim. She was your ancestor, the original chosen one."
"No," Charlotte whispered, shaking her head. "That's impossible. I was adopted into this family. I'm not even a real Hargrove."
Jack hesitated, his eyes searching hers. "That's what you've been told. But the curse isn't bound by legalities. It's tied to blood, Charlotte. The Hargrove's brought you into the family because they knew. You're not just connected to the curse, you're its key."
Charlotte felt the room turning around her. The pieces of information were now arranging themselves and making a lot of sense, each one scarier than the last. The visions, the whispers, the unexplainable pull toward the mirror, all made sense now.
"What does this mean?" she asked with a whisper of her voice.
"It means that the curse has been waiting for you. The ritual must either be completed or broken, and you're the one who has to decide which path to take." Jack said
"And if I don't?"
Jack's silence was answer enough.
As the gravity of Jack's words sank in, Charlotte noticed a small burning feeling on her arm. She pushed back her sleeve, her eyes widening in horror.
There, designed faintly into her skin, was the same symbol that Evelyn had tried to hide on her arm, a circle with rugged lines vibrating outward, like a twisted sun.
"What is this?" Charlotte demanded, her voice rising in panic.
Jack leaned closer, his expression firm. "It's the mark of the chosen one. The curse is increasing its claim on you."
"But why now?" Charlotte asked, her voice shaking.
"Because time is running out," Jack said. "The date designed into the stone, it's almost here. The curse is preparing for the final act."
Charlotte rushed out of her room, her arm still burning with the mark. She found Evelyn in the library, studying the journal's small pieces of information on the journal pages.
"You knew," Charlotte said, her voice sharp. "You knew about the mark, didn't you?"
Evelyn looked up, guilt filled in her eyes. "I... I suspected it might happen. The cult told me you'd be marked eventually."
"And you didn't think to warn me?" Charlotte asked angrily.
"I didn't know how, I'm trying to protect you, Charlotte, but I'm just as trapped as you are," Evelyn said.
"Protect me?" Charlotte scoffed. "You've been hiding things from me from the start. How am I supposed to trust you?"
Evelyn's shoulders dropped, and for the first time, she looked really tired of all she had seen. "I don't have all the answers. But I do know one thing, we can't face this curse alone. If we're going to survive, we have to work together."
Charlotte hesitated, her anger reducing just below the surface. But she knew Evelyn was right. They were both mall players in a game they didn't fully understand, and the only way out was through the two of them working as a team.
"Fine," Charlotte said finally. "But no more secrets. We need to figure out what this ritual actually contains and how to stop it."
Evelyn nodded, relief showing across her face. "Agreed."
As they turned back to the journal, a sudden flow of wind entered and blew through the library, it off all the candles immediately in the library. The room went into absolute darkness, and the whispers returned, louder than ever.
Charlotte felt the mark on her arm burn hotter, and she held onto it, her breath seized with her mouth wide open.
"They're coming," Jack's voice called from the doorway, urgency filled his words. "We need to move. Now."
But before they could react and move, a shadowy figure showed in the center of the room, its form twisting and shifting. Its empty eyes kept looking at Charlotte, and a voice, deep and vibrating, sounded through the darkness.
"The chosen one must fulfill her destiny."
And then, everything went black.