Chapter 3: The Secrets Beneath
Mikel stood alone in the stone circle, the echoes of his own breath the only sound that remained. The wind had stopped, and the mist had lifted as if it had never been there. He looked around, his heart pounding in his chest. The forest, the stones, the land—everything was eerily still, untouched by time.
He wanted to call out again, to shout for Sarah, but the air felt thick, oppressive. There was a weight in his chest, a sense of something ancient and powerful pressing down on him. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up as he glanced around, half expecting the ground to swallow him whole.
The circle of stones seemed even older now, their runes glowing faintly in the dimming light of the late morning. Mikel stepped forward cautiously, running a hand over one of the ancient carvings. It was cold to the touch, and he could feel a hum beneath the surface—like the pulse of something that had slumbered for centuries.
What had Sarah been doing here? What had she been calling?
He glanced at the spot where she had stood, the place where she had been only moments ago. It was empty now, like she had never been there at all. The fear in her eyes was fresh in his mind, though, and the words she had whispered to him—You shouldn't have come—hung heavily in the air.
A rustling sound broke the silence, and Mikel's heart skipped a beat. He spun around, but there was no one there.
Except...
In the distance, something moved. A figure, half-hidden by the trees, watching him. He couldn't make out the details, but he knew it was Sarah.
Without thinking, Mikel rushed forward, his feet carrying him faster than he thought possible. The dense trees seemed to part for him as he ran, but the figure was always just out of reach, slipping further into the shadows.
"Sarah!" he called again, his voice strained.
But there was no reply, just the faintest echo of his own words.
As he pushed forward, the woods grew darker, colder. The air turned damp, and an unsettling stillness pressed in on him from all sides. The sunlight seemed to have disappeared, swallowed by a blanket of clouds that had materialized out of nowhere.
And then, as if drawn by some invisible force, he stumbled into a clearing. It was here that the landscape seemed to shift—an unnatural, quiet place. At the center of the clearing was a stone altar, ancient and weathered, with thick vines and moss growing over it. A low, mournful hum emanated from the altar, vibrating in Mikel's bones.
He froze.
There, standing beside the altar, was Sarah.
Her eyes were closed, her arms outstretched once again, as if reaching for something unseen. She was no longer the fragile girl he had found on the bridge; she was different now—transformed, her presence heavy, laden with an otherworldly power.
"Sarah!" Mikel's voice was louder this time, desperate.
She opened her eyes slowly, and when she turned to face him, Mikel felt his breath catch. The fear he had seen in her eyes earlier was gone, replaced by a quiet, almost serene expression. But there was something else—a deep sadness, as though she were trapped in a place beyond reach.
"You shouldn't have followed me," she said softly, her voice distant, as if the words came from somewhere far away.
Mikel stepped forward, his heart hammering in his chest. "I couldn't leave you," he said, his voice thick with emotion.
Sarah's gaze softened, but there was a sadness in her eyes that cut through him. "It's too late," she whispered, almost to herself. "You don't understand. You can't."
The ground beneath them trembled again, but this time, it wasn't the wind. It was the earth itself, responding to the pull of something darker, older than anything Mikel had ever known.
Mikel felt a chill wrap around his heart. The air grew heavy with the scent of damp earth and ancient decay. The trees seemed to lean inward, their branches stretching out like fingers, blocking the light. It was as if the forest was closing in on him, trapping him in a nightmare he couldn't escape.
"Sarah, what is this?" Mikel's voice was barely a whisper.
She glanced at him, her eyes now clouded with an emotion he couldn't place. "This is the heart of Willow Creek," she said. "The place where it all began."
"What do you mean? What began?"
But before she could answer, the ground rumbled again, this time with more force. Mikel stumbled backward as the altar began to crack open, revealing a glowing, pulsing energy beneath the stone. It was bright—blinding, almost—and Mikel felt its pull in the pit of his stomach, a power that beckoned him, that wanted to consume him.
"Sarah, stop!" Mikel shouted, taking another step back.
But Sarah didn't respond. Instead, her hand reached out toward the pulsing light, as though it was calling her.
"No..." Mikel whispered, fear flooding his veins.
But it was too late.
The light surged upward, and the air was filled with a deafening roar, like the sky itself was being torn apart. Mikel shielded his eyes, but the force of the energy knocked him to the ground.
When he opened his eyes again, the world had changed. The clearing was gone. The trees were now twisted, gnarled, and the air was thick with fog. The altar, too, had vanished, leaving behind only a scar in the earth.
And in the distance, he saw her—Sarah—standing in the ruins of the old world, her silhouette outlined by the faint glow of something ancient and powerful.