Dr. Creepen's Dungeon - S4 Ep189: Episode 189: Diaries of the Dead

Episode Date: October 17, 2024

Today’s terrifying feature length tale of terror is the ‘I Read My Dead Mother's Diary: I Don't Know If I Can Ever Forgive Myself’, an original work by the wonderfully talented Richard Saxon, kindly shared with me via NoSleep so that I could narrate it here for you all, with the author’s express permission. https://www.reddit.com/user/RichardSaxon/

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BetMGM operates pursuant to an operating agreement with Eye Gaming Ontario. Welcome to Dr. Creepin's Dungeon. Their people's diaries can be terrifying because they offer a haunting glimpse into the thoughts and experiences of someone who is no longer alive, creating an unsettling connection between the reader and the deceased. The entries may reveal eerie premonitions, unresolved fears, or disturbing secrets that hinted a tragic or violent end. As you read their words, the sense of intrusion grows. Each line serves as a chilling reminder that their story was. cut short, leaving unanswered questions and the uneasy feeling that something, or someone,

might still be lurking in the shadows, as we shall see in tonight's feature-length story. Now, as ever before we begin, a word of caution. Tonight's tale may contain strong language as well as descriptions of violence and horrific imagery. If that sounds like your kind of thing, then let's begin. R-1. Past words. A tiptoe slowly through the dark hallways of the ancient hospice care. I'd only been awake for a few minutes and my eyes felt heavy with sleep. At first I couldn't quite put my finger on what exactly had interrupted my slumber. It had been a sound I knew that much, but it was too distant and muffled to properly comprehend. My first instinct had been to wake up my mother, but her bed had been emptied, messy and cold. She'd clearly been gone for a while.

still her instructions have been clear stay in the room at night and don't go looking for trouble but to a seven-year-old child without their mother for comfort every howl of the wind and creek of old wood turns malicious i knew i'd get in trouble if i left our room but my fear of being alone far outweighed the orders i'd been given as i left the room i could have sworn i heard the faint sounds of a man crying in the distance he sounded like he needed help i decided to help i decided to to visit the nursing station on the ward, hoping my mother would be there and that someone could assist the crying man. It wasn't far to walk, but in the darkness I could hardly see two feet in front of me. The lights had been turned off for the night, giving the patience and much-needed rest. Since I didn't know where the main switch was situated, I had to rely on my own memory and walls for support. Hello? I called out as I approached the nursing station. it had been abandoned with a little more than a few books and a cold cup of tea left behind.

Mom? No response. All that existed around me were the empty hallways, filled with a little more than the sobs from a broken man. I should have been more afraid, but having spent the majority of my life around sick and dying people had given me a different perspective on what it meant to be human. Rather than fearing the strange sounds before me, I pitied whoever had created. them. And if the nurses weren't around to help him, then I

had to take action. There was an old rechargeable flashlight in one of the cupboards. It was frequently used during the main power outages at the hospice. I decided to snatch it to make my way easier, promising to put it back before anyone would notice.

Hello, Mr. Are you okay? I said in a half-whisper. I was afraid to wake up the other patients, but I still foolishly tried to reach out to him. It was hard to gauge where exactly the sound was coming from. It sounded muffled, and the way it echoed through the hallway disoriented me too much to accurately judge.

The hospice had been poorly designed with endlessly long hallways, dimly lit up through the small windows. It was a true labyrinth of darkness, one that was hard to navigate even during the day. Had it not been for the vast amount of time I'd spent there, I would have gotten lost immediately. "'Where are you, mister?' I caught out again. But in response to my soft cause, I received only more sobs. They were intermittently interrupted by the briefest of sentences.

In a way it sounded like the man was arguing with himself, shooting incoherent messages back and forth. "'Hello?' I asked, daring to let it out a bit louder that time. Still no response, save the hopeless cries. I kept wandering the halls, trying to figure out where everyone had gone. The voice of the crying man just sounded further and further away. But behind the echo, I started to realise that the sound wasn't coming for the ward itself, but from down below. The man was in the basement.

It was pretty much the only room left in the facility that I had yet to visit. Separated from the ward by a rusted metal door, it was strictly off limits to everyone save for the janitor. According to my mother, it housed little more than backup generators and some tools. Thus, it was deemed too dangerous for regular staff. But if a patient had gotten lost down there, maybe I could help him get out again. The heavy door creaked as I pushed it open. Behind it lay nothing more than pitch black darkness.

The cries that had once been muffled were finally freed from the echoing prison of four-inch metal, and I knew I was heading in the right direction. "'Hello,' I called out again, "'and just like before, "'the voice has only returned, "'in coherent rambles. "'I don't want to be here. "'Please, I'm not supposed to be here.

"'I just want to go, but please, let me go,' "'the voice said. "'With the broken begging, I finally recognize the voice. "'It was Mr. Henderson, "'a man who suffered from terminal cancer. "'He was one of the patients "'I'd spent the most time with, happily sitting at his bedside as he told me stories from his youth.

But he had died a week prior, his body finally giving out to the spreading poison in his body. He couldn't possibly be the one trapped in the basement. At the young age, I still hadn't probably grasped the concept of death. Though I knew that every person ended their journey on earth at some point, it felt like a foreign, distant idea. At the moment I stood in the staircase, staring into the dark abyss below, I felt happy to hear his voice again.

Mr. Henderson, did you get lost? I called out as I walked down the narrow staircase. He just kept sobbing. It hurts to be here. Let me go. I'm staying. This is my world. He said. His sob turning into a twisted chuckle. It sounded so forced as if someone who'd never heard laugh to their entire life was trying to fake it based on written down. instructions. As I descended into the basement, I felt the air around me grow thick. I felt so small to wander beneath the heavy concrete walls and ceiling with no one there to guide my way. The flashlight I wielded barely touched the shadows before me, and it was already starting to run dry. Mr. Henderson, I repeated. Are you okay? Once I reached the bottom, my light barely produced a visible beam.

I took a break to swirl around the charging handle, desperately trying to illuminate my harrowing surroundings. After I felt I had a satisfying charge, I shone the light around the damp, dark room, expecting to find a bunch of crates or equipment. Instead, I found out the basement was far larger than I'd ever imagined. Instead of being a singular room, it was a hallway rid of any light, with several metal doors lining the walls on each side. He looked almost like the ward above me, except it had no windows nor any staff inside. The cries were coming from a room near the end, and it was growing in intensity for each step I took towards it. It didn't even sound real anymore. It was too loud, too broken and wet.

I walked over to the door and gently pulled it open. Inside I found a singular bed with a broken chain attached to the wall. Mr Henderson himself stood in one of the corners, just facing the wall. He let out a couple of more sobs, banging his head slowly against the cold concrete. He was naked, and his body had grown sickly thin, even in comparison to how he looked shortly before his death. His ribs protruded violently through his paper-thin skin. He seemed nothing like the man I'd known, but it was still him.

Then I noticed something else. A woman lying on the floor a few feet away from him. It was my mother. She was unconscious and had a large gash covering the side of her head. Mom! I yelled as I ran to help her. Only then did Mr. Henderson finally pay me any attention. He turned his head towards me with a jerky twist and took a few bizarrely unbalanced steps towards me.

His limbs moved in inhuman ways, akin to a marionette being controlled by an unseeked. an entity. I'm here, I'm here, I'm here. He half sobbed, half laughed. Why did you come down here? You're not supposed to be here. I'm not me.

I'll hurt you. You'll be the next one. He took a long, unsteady step towards me, while I frantically tried to shake my mother awake. Why did you come down here? Why didn't you just let me die? He yelled as he walked even, closer to me.

Mom, wake up! I yelled as I shook her and knocked out body. Leave, Mr. Henderson shouted, taking another few doll-like steps towards me. I got to my feet and backed away from my mother. My hands were trembling at the man standing before me. Whoever he had once been, he was long since lost. I hadn't got the faintest clue of what had taken his place.

I want to die again. Why are you keeping me here? He asked. The acrolytes will come. You are but the first vessel. One voice was Mr. Henderson's, though distraught and damaged. It felt like him, but the other one belonged to something else entirely. A dark force that filled the basement with dread.

I turned to flee, but the door had shut behind me. The pathetic flashlight I carried had once again begun to fade. Left without any chance of escape, I just froze in fear, unable to comprehend the situation that was unfolding before me. Then Mr. Henderson swung his arm towards the wall. He had a groan as a loud crack was hurt. He'd broken his own arm, causing the bone to protrude out through his flesh. He lifted his mangled arm, getting ready to strike me.

"'I need to kill you. It'll be better for you,' he said with a song. I lifted my arms to defend myself, screaming for my mother to help. Mr. Henderson brought down his broken bone with incredible speed. It hit my shoulder, cutting deep into my flesh. I cried in agony and—' "'Mom!' I was jolted awake by my son, Alex, standing at the foot of my bed. He wore a worried expression on his face.

when I had come to know all too well in the recent weeks. Did you have another bad dream? he asked. I was too out of breath to respond. I just looked down at my shoulder, making sure the wound was little more than a distant memory. This door displayed the scars from the following surgery, but at least the pain had vanished years earlier. I'm okay, Alex. It was just a dream, I lied. The truth was far too complicated. for his young mind to understand.

Even I hadn't come to terms with the events that took place two decades earlier. Officially I'd hurt myself on a piece of broken glass, but the truth still lingered in my mind. What are you doing awake so early? I asked as I glanced at the time. It was barely seven, early by even Alex's standards. He pointed it to the stairs with a puzzled look.

There's a man outside. He says he knows my grandma. It struck me as a man. an odd coincidence. I hadn't spoken to my mother since I was a child, so to have someone show up at my doorstep the same week as I'm having nightmares about her felt all too connected. Still, I was too tired to question it. I'll be right down. Just go get ready for breakfast. You can have some of that cereal that you love so much. With that permission, Alex scurried away. He was only six, but he'd already grown so much. He had a pure heart full of kindness.

all in spite of the complicated life that we'd led so far. I got out of bed, still soaked in sweat from the nightman. I felt so real, making it feel as if I'd returned to the horrible basement at Tenebris hospice care. The whole place was a dreadful one, the end station for people needing an end-of-life care. All I could do was to splash some cold water onto my face before I threw on whatever clothes I'd worn the day before. I knew I looked like shit, but it didn't matter.

Once I finally made it to the door, I found a man in his mid-thirty standing outside. He wore a perfectly tailored suit with silver cufflings. He smiled politely as he saw me, reaching at his hand to introduce himself. My name is John Riley. You must be Miss Laura Florence. I nodded as I grabbed his hand. It was a firm handshake, but I still didn't understand whether he wanted to sell me something or if he actually knew my mother like he claimed i'm so sorry to interrupt you

this early on a sunday but i'm here on behalf of agatha florence she was your mother crained her name sounded so odd no one had ever called her agatha before it was always aggie by her friends or mrs florence if she spoke to patience for a moment i just try to remember what she looked like even in my dreams her face had always been obscured as if she was a stranger then it hit me he'd mention my mother in the past tense wait did you say was my mother his smile vanished as he realized he'd inadvertently told me that my mother had died i'm so sorry miss florence your mother passed away a month ago i thought you already knew the news took a mother and to truly register with me. At first I felt sad, but then I realized just how long it had been since I'd last seen it. The sadness quickly faded and was replaced by an overwhelming sense of disappointment. Do you mind if I come inside for a moment? he asked. Without even thinking to refuse, I just gestured in the general direction of the kitchen. I led the way and he followed me

inside. Alex had already started breakfast, working on a bowl of cereal. I just gestured in the general direction of the kitchen. I led the way and he followed me inside. Alex had already started breakfast, working on a bowl of cereal that contained far too much sugar. Mr Riley placed himself in the doorway, waiting patiently for permission to come inside. Alex, hon, could you give us a few minutes? You can go watch some TV while you eat. Alex excitedly rushed out of the kitchen. It was an unusual treat for him to eat on the couch, so he didn't hesitate for even a second. Please, have a seat. Would you like some coffee or something? I asked.

He just shook his head. Thank you, but I'm trying to cut down on my caffeine intake. Still, I mindlessly started working on a pot of coffee. Mr. Riley sat himself down by the kitchen table and put a briefcase in front of him. I'm a lawyer that used to work for the same hospice facility as your mother, to nebris care. You know the name?

He asked. I thought back to the few memories I had at the place. while they weren't particularly pleasant once, I still felt oddly connected to it. The horrors I could remember seem vague as if they'd never really happened. If not for the frequent nightmares to remind me, I probably wouldn't have believed it. Yeah, I spent a lot of time in one of the guest rooms. My mother was a nurse, though. Mr. Riley nodded in agreement.

She actually worked there as recently as last year. She meant a great deal to both the staff and patient. at the facility. She was a good woman. I almost let out a chuckle her last statement. A good woman. The person who'd abandoned me at the age of seven sent me away to live with my grandparents. They hated her. They truly did despite her being their own daughter. According to them, she was absolutely insane. Oh, I didn't really know her that well. It was the only answer I could muster out. He looked slightly disappointed at my response.

Still, he put on a kind smile and opened one of the documents. As her lawyer, it's my job to carry out her last will and testament. While she didn't have much in terms of money, she did leave behind her house, and the room she owned at Denebra's care. That's not worth a lot, but it's something. Or in addition, she left you this. He said as he handed me the neatly wrapped-up package. It was light, but I didn't want to open it.

it without knowing its content. What is it? I asked. I'm not sure. It was already wrapped and addressed to you and I picked it up, he said, allowing a hint of curiosity to escape through his voice. I unwrapped the paper with trembling hands

and found a heavily worn, leather-bound journal inside. On it my mother's name had been engraved as Aggie Florence. These were all her thoughts and memories that remained on this earth, all from a life I'd never known. At first I just stared at it in disbelief. I'd honestly never cared much about knowing my

mother. To me, she was just the crazy woman that abandoned me as a child. But with a lawyer giving a whole different story, I was starting to doubt myself for the first time in years. Miss Florence, I know it might be a traumatic thing to relive old memories, believe me, but it'd be greatly helpful if you could accompany me back to Tenebris to get this paperwork out of the way. transfer whatever assets that belong to your mother or at least sell them the idea didn't bring me any joy de nebris was a part of my past a place that had broken my mind as a young girl still the curious bone in my mind wouldn't rest all that easy if my mother hadn't been the psychotic woman

i'd been led to believe then why'd she sent me away can i have some time to think about it i finally asked Mr Riley nodded, understandably, and poured out a business car from his inner pocket. It was just a plain black piece of paper with the name of his company and his phone number on it. I'm staying in town until tomorrow. Just call me if you have any questions. With that, he excused himself, and I was left alone in the kitchen. Alex was still enjoying his TV time, blaring cartoons loudly throughout the house.

I should have joined him for breakfast, but I'd have. lost my appetite. All I wanted were answers, answers that might be hidden within that very diary. I had to do it. I took a deep breath and opened the book to a random page, about halfway through the diary. April 18, 1997. Mr. Clark arrived at the building today for the last time. It's only been a month since I last saw him, and now it's more clear than ever that he's standing on death's doorstep. Cancer is a horrible disease, and it's taken Mr. Clark out of remission with a vengeance, spreading to his lungs and brain.

He's lost most of the brilliant man he used to be, but he still plays the piano like an angel. Even in his current state, the muscle memory lingers, a window into its former cell. He's told me he's ready. The pain is too great to suffer through another round of chemo. I just hope his last few weeks in our world are less painful. I sneaked in a bit of a higher dose in his pain medication. The doctors wouldn't be happy about it, but it couldn't hurt him any more than the disease already has.

The next few pages went on to describe Mr. Clark's life. He used to be a music teacher, even far enough back to have taught my own mother. I was only four when I'd first met him, and though I only knew him for a couple of months, I knew he was a kind man. but even the best people get taken by the horrible disease, stolen from this world without reason. I just skimmed through the next pages, surprised at just how normal my mother seemed. Based on the little I'd read in her diary that far, she was a compassionate, kind woman, just like the lawyer had said, April 19, 1997. Mr. Clark died last night, took his last breath when I was sleeping.

I promised to be there with him when the time came, but I failed him. There were just no real warning signs. He'd seemed fine the evening before, and we expected him to have at least another week left. He just died, died in silence without a soul noticing. He drew his last breath, and the world just didn't change. He was pronounced dead when the morning staff found him at 5.34 a.m., just like that. But that's not the worst part, because when we moved him into the morgue, I accidentally touched his arm, and I could have sworn I felt it twitch.

I told the other nurses to stop, but they just kept going, claiming I'd imagined the whole thing. I turned to the next page, but to my surprise, it had been ripped out. In fact, as I flipped through the rest of the diary, I found that several were missing. I went through the entire thing page by page, but... without the missing information as context, it was a pointless task. But what she left behind seemed normal enough.

I couldn't know for sure without getting the rest of the diary. The business card that rested on the kitchen table started to look all the more tempting, and yet something held me back, an odd feeling I just couldn't shake, hidden somewhere beneath the heavy sense of curiosity. Had my mother really been crazy? I had to know. I picked up the card and dialed the number.

At first I couldn't bring myself to hit call. I just sat there and stared at the ten-digit number. For all I knew, there was no mystery. My mother was simply crazy. But the possibility was still there. And the only thing that separated me from the answers I needed was a simple phone call. Hello, this is John Riley. How can I help you?

He said as he picked up the phone. Hey, it's me, Laura Florence. I responded meekly. Oh, hello, Miss Florence. I didn't think I'd hear back from you so soon. Have you decided what to do? Yeah, I'm coming with you back to Tenebrus. I sort of knew the way to Tenebrus myself, at least with a map.

Nevertheless, my car was held up in the garage as it awaited the missing parts it desperately needed for repairs. Riley offered to drive, promising that the entire trip wouldn't last more than a week, that he guide me through all the necessary paperwork. That night, I couldn't let go of the diary. I combed through the old paper, trying to figure out which parts had gone missing. Most of the stuff written there seemed normal, even tame. Apart from a few offhand sentences, my mother seemed like a perfectly normal person. All the answers I sought were hidden within the missing pages.

I knew that much. I figured that if I couldn't read them myself, maybe some answers had been left behind in the room I'd inherited. Then, as I held the diary in my hand, I felt a small cut in the leather, just on the inside of the back page. It revealed a perfectly hidden pocket, and there was something inside it. I gently tugged and pulled on a folded piece of paper, careful not to tear it as I removed it from the pocket. It was one of the missing pages, filled to the brim with frantic handwriting.

It was messy but clearly written by my mother. The date on it was listed as August 4th 2000. The very day I got sent to my grandparents at the age of seven. Dear Laura, they're not letting me leave to Nebris, but I can't let them take you too. I'm sending your way to live with your grandparents. Hopefully they can keep you safe as I figure out a way to stop this nightmare. There's something wrong with the people in this town.

At first I thought it was just the patients at the hospice care. they kept coming back from the dead, acting strangely as if they weren't the same people anymore. But then it started to spread. People were dying all around town, only to come back to life as they'd arrived at our morgue. It's my fault. I'm a part of this, and I don't know if I can stop it. I'm hiding this note in my diary, only to be given to you once I'm dead. I pray you never have to read this, but if you do, you have to. have to stay away from Tenebrus. It's not safe here. Please forgive me. I'm going to try to...

The rest of the page was smudged beyond intelligibility, as if the page had been tucked away before the ink had had a chance to dry. She was telling me to stay away, but that was over 20 years ago. If Tenebris truly was dangerous, the threat had to have been gone by now. I mulled over my options, but the desperate desire still occupied my every thought. I had to figure out what had happened to my mother. Art 2. Tenebraith, I woke the following morning to the sound of Riley's car pulling up into my driveway. I groaned as I realized it wasn't even seven o'clock. He was even earlier than the day before, but I had to get up. Sleep hadn't come easy the previous nights. not after the note I'd found hidden within the cover of the diary.

It wasn't until I took my prescription sleeping medication before I finally drifted off to sleep. It wasn't something I enjoyed, especially not the morning after, but I didn't have any other options. Alex was already awake and had packed a small bag of clothes, snacks and essential items. He was well prepared, more so than myself. I quickly checked through my own bag,

making sure I hadn't forgotten anything, before running downstairs to greet Riley. Even at the 11th hour, I hadn't fully decided whether or not I was going with him. I needed to ask him about my mother's warning. Good morning, Miss Florence. Riley said as I open the door. We have a long driverhead. Are you sure you have everything you need? He looked fresh, despite wearing exactly the same suit as the day before. Mr. Riley, I'm not sure this is a good idea. It's just, well,

I felt embarrassed to even say it, so I just handed him the letter. He skimmed over it, as he progressed down each paragraph. He started to look almost sad, as if he pitied my mother. I'm sorry, your mum. As great if a woman as she was had a few, well, episodes. It's not all she was. She was great, but she had dark moments like everyone else. You've ever changed your mind, I understand.

difficult to relive the past. He looked at me expecting an answer. I thought of my mother being crazy returned to me at record pace, but even if she was, I still needed to collect her belongings. It's all right. We'll come with you. And with that, he opened the trunk to his car, grabbing Alex's bag first and throwing it in. Won't it be a bit uncomfortable, traveling around in such a fancy suit? I asked, half-joking in an attempt at being forced. friendly. He looked down at himself for a moment and chuckled. I always dress like this when I'm out and about on business. It makes me feel better about myself, I suppose. Dress like the man you want to be? I asked. Well, my boss always says we're all wearing costumes, that our true nature

is hidden beneath the clothes we wear, the makeup we put on and, well, the faces we fake to convince people we're fine. What you see a person as is hardly ever who they truly are. "'If that's the case, and I figure it might as well be a good costume.' I chuckled awkwardly, back at his comment, reaching down to lift up my bag, but Riley got there before me. "'Don't worry. I'm an excellent driver,' Riley said. "'As I opened the passenger-side door, my finger somehow got caught in the handle, twisting it around.

"'Fuck!' I yelled in pain, immediately realizing that Alex was standing right next to me. "'Oh, sorry, hon, we're not supposed to say these things.' He just laughed in response. Bad words were peak humour for children his age. I can blow on it to make it better, he suggested. I agreed it was a silly tradition that we developed. He gently held my hand and blew on the aching finger.

Somehow it actually took the pain away, whether it is just placebo or because it really wasn't that wounded. Ryder got out from his car and came over to assist me. Everything all right, Miss Florence. He asked, Yeah, I just twisted my finger, I'm fine. The journey would last all of 12 hours, leading us into the middle of nowhere, Pennsylvania. As we started driving, Alex instantly fell back asleep, but I wasn't that lucky.

Despite having built up a significant sleep debt over the last few months, I just couldn't find rest. Instead, I just took a moment to stare at the ever-changing landscape outside the window. As I stared outside, I absentmindedly kept flicking the lid off the old zippo lighter. It had been in my pocket for years by then, though I'd never even used it. You smoke, Riley asked. No, I murmured as I put the lighter away. It was my mother's, one of those things I took when I was sent away. I wanted to ask Riley more about my mother, but I'd just met the guy, and, for all I knew,

he might have just been a lawyer who'd met her once or twice. "'You want to ask me about your mother, don't you?' He said after a long moment of silence. "'I have to be honest, I didn't know her all that well. Just what I've been told, but I'll help you in any way I can.' Well, he was either psychic or incredibly intuitive. I supposed he would have understood how people work to be a good lawyer. Still, I was afraid to ask.

Either she was crazy and the whole journey would be a reminder of my broken childhood, or she wasn't, which meant I was the one who'd given up on her. her. After a single moment of thought, all I could think to ask was, was she happy? The question plunged the car into silence. Riley sighed, not out of awkwardness, nor shame, but because he pitied me. I think she was just lonely. Riley was a man of few words, a fact well proven by the long trip we had together. He never really spoke unless someone prompted him. Still, he usually knew exactly the right words to use. I felt oddly comfortable around him, but whether that trust came because of his character or because he was the only

link to my mother, I didn't know. The journey went on with only occasional stops to use the restroom and to get a snack. Alex was usually the culprit, with his tiny bladder and needing to move around. Riley didn't seem to mind much. He'd just stand by the car and politely wait for us to finish our business. As we got closer to Tenebred's, the world around us slowly started to change. Civilization gave way to open fields, and the road that had brought us there transformed to cracked asphalt, forgotten by time itself. Above in the sky hung heavy clouds that had been trapped in by the valley that surrounded us, creating a cold and eerie atmosphere. Though it was only five in the afternoon, it was already starting to get dark. It was that small. It's that small.

diner still around here? I asked as I felt my stomach rumble. Which one? Riley asked. I think it was called Jonathan's breakfast, lunch and dinner. Not a particularly creative name, but if I recall they had decent omelets. I think so. I'm pretty sure there's something somewhere along the road here. It was odd that he didn't recognize the name. Tenebris was a tiny place with only a handful of pubs, restaurants and diners. Jonathan's was usually the only place me

and my mother had gone out to eat, a treat reserve for special occasions. Riley pulled up onto the parking lot. The place hadn't changed a bit since last time, matching my memories down to the smallest detail. But it also seemed so old, unkempt and abandoned. While the lights were on inside, it both looked and felt like no one had set foot there in years. I'll just hang out by the car and make some phone calls.

I'll see you in a bit. Riley said. You don't want us to get you anything. You haven't eaten all day. Thanks, I'm good. Travel just makes me a bit nauseated. And with that we went inside. Alex ordered his favorite food, French fries with an overabundance of ketchup, while I got myself an omelette. The waitress seemed tired and unsure of how to deal with customers. Still, the food was brought to us quickly enough, and I didn't really care apart from that. The dino was empty, not a single soul accompanying us in the large interior. The tables were dusty, and the radio had been turned off.

It was an unwelcoming atmosphere, but we just needed food before heading off. Alex studied digging in, but I hesitated with trying the eggs. A smell of sulphur lingered in the air, one I could quickly trace back to the eggs. They were rotten, that much was obvious. The eggs must have been months past their expiration date, which would be an almost impossible feat for any diner. I pushed them to the side, too sick from the smell to even demand another plate. The fries looked rather old themselves. They were clearly frozen products and deep-fried, so I doubted they were as bad as the eggs.

Still, they seemed soggy. I stole one from Alex, much to his dismay, and tasted it just to make sure he wouldn't get sick. "'Mom, why haven't we visited Grandma before?' Alex asked between mouthfuls of fries. I had to think about the answer for a moment. It was an easy question, but not something a kid should have to deal with. Well, when I was your age, your grandma had some problems, so I was taken away for a while. Were you sad? I chuckled.

Yeah, I was sad, but now I have you, and that's much more important. The staff at the diner, wherever they'd gone, never came back to check on our table. We'd just put some money down and left the building. I was still hungry, but it would have to wait until we got into town. Is it still far? Alex asked as I put him into the back seats. We'll be there in five minutes, buddy, I answered. You'll even get your own room.

As we got further into town, thousands of memories started flowing back. I saw the playground I'd spent most of my free time at. Only then, the swing was broken and weeds had taken over the sandbox. A lot of the houses remained unchanged, only with flaky paint and a few broken windows. Honestly, the town had never been well-capped. It was a poor place, but since my last visit, it had gotten even worse. What happened here? I asked. This place used to be, well, less depressing.

Riley sighed. Yeah, a lot of people have left town in recent years. Couldn't tell you why. I don't really think anything changed. Probably just the younger generation going to the big cities, hoping to find their meaning in life. When we arrived at my old neighbourhood, it was run down,

standing in perfect harmony with the rest of the ageing town. On the side of the street stood a patrol car with an officer checking the streets. As Riley parked his car, the officer approached us. I instantly recognized him as Sheriff Morgan Dawson, the very same I'd known back when I was a kid.

I see, you brought some guests. He stated coldly as he saw Riley. Sheriff Dawson redirected his attention towards me, inspecting me with suspicious eyes. Is that... That's Miss Laura Florence, just here to deal with some paperwork. The sheriff's expression immediately changed

to a friendly smile. Aggie's daughter, you're back into Nebrus, he said as if he couldn't quite believe it. I nodded, glad to see a familiar face, but still a bit freaked out by being back in town. Sheriff Dawson glanced over at Riley with suspicious eyes, fully quickly redirected his attention towards me. I didn't know you were coming.

I'm truly sorry about your loss. Aggie was a great woman, one of the best I ever knew. It's been a rough month since her. passing. Oh, thank you, Sheriff Dawson. I appreciate it. Morgan, he corrected me. He then fumbled around in his pocket for a moment before pulling out a business card. If you need anything during your stay, don't hesitate to contact me. This is my personal number, so any time you need assistance, call. It sounded more like an order than a suggestion. Though he was perfectly friendly, seemed overly protective of me, despite barely knowing me.

Then he turned to Alex who was getting his things out from the car. "'Who's this little guy?' he asked. "'That's my son, Alex.' He bent down to be on the same eye level as Alex, and reached out to shake his hand. "'I'm a sheriff round these parts. My job is to keep everyone safe. "'Well, I guess you'll take good care of your mother, huh?'

Alex chuckled, nodding in agreement. He took a look at my luggage, dropped in front of the house. "'You're staying at Aggie's old place?' he asked. I nodded, I hadn't thought about other options. Sure, there were some cheap and unsanitary hotels available, but I was there to figure things out. I needed to be close to my mother, or at least as close as I could get. Right, don't forget she has a room at the hospice.

Might be a bit better kept than the house. She spent most of her time away from home, as you know. Riley interjected. He was right. I hardly had any memories from our old house. Since babysitters weren't readily available My mother had brought me with her to work Where I stayed at her room in Tenebra's care most of the time

It was probably nicer But it wasn't a place I wished Alex to stay overnight Thank you We'll be checking out the room tomorrow You'll be there for the memorial as well Riley asked I look back at him with a confused expression What memorial

We're holding one in Agatha's honour A final goodbye if you will Are you going to be there, Sheriff? I asked. He shook his head. No, I've got my own way of honoring her. But I'll pick you up tomorrow and drive you over there. Then he turned to Riley. That'll be all right, won't it?

He nodded in agreement. I suppose so. There was clear tension between the two of them, but if they had some history or bad blood that I didn't know about, I thought it best to stay out of trouble. I drive past here every morning anyway. Should we say seven? Sure, thank you, Sheriff.

Please just call me Morgan. He corrected it for the second time. With that, the Sheriff got back into his car and drove away. Riley went to unlock the front door, after which he handed us the key. The house had been left exactly as I remembered it, old and hardly ever used by anyone. A thick layer of dust had gathered on every available surface,

causing a dense cloud to form wherever we went. I coughed as we walked through the hallway into the living room. That too was untouched, only affected by the never-ending passage of time itself. However, as we reached the kitchen, I realised it was squeaky clean. Every surface had been polished and disinfected, and on the kitchen table lay a letter without a name. What's this? I asked. Riley scratched his head. Um, I think it's for you.

I opened the letter up. only to find a piece of paper that clearly held my mother's handwriting. Riley must have noticed the change in my demeanor because he suddenly looked uncomfortable. I'll leave you two alone to get acquainted with the house again. You have my number if you need anything. I'll see you again tomorrow for the paperwork. I asked as he retreated back towards the front door.

Yeah, we'll meet around noon, after the ceremony. Ceremony? I thought you said to memorial. Yeah, Memorial, yeah, I'll see you tomorrow. Once Riley had left, I read the letter. It was a pretty generic will left behind, explaining that all her belongings would pass to me. Not a single word held personal meaning, nor did it give me closure of any kind.

I noticed Alex almost falling asleep on the kitchen table. The journey had worn him out, and it was time to sleep. I started cleaning his room out, but he resisted, demanding that we stay together in one room. I couldn't blame him the place was awfully old and creepy. Besides, it would be easier just to clean out one room as tired as we were. By the time we'd removed all the dust, Alex had already passed out in bed. I myself wasn't tired.

I poured the last sets of covers off my pillow when I noticed a piece of paper fall out. It was crumpled, made from thick, aging paper that matched what I'd seen in the diary. I caressed it, gently holding it in my hands as if it could turn to dust at any moment. It had a torn edge which matched perfectly the last page of my mother's journal. I put them side by side just to make sure. The text was more erratic than the previous pages, written with messy letters, filling up both sides of the paper to the brim. I could barely decipher it.

I had only gotten about halfway through the page when a horrible realization hit me. My mother hadn't just died. She, who killed herself. Part three. What Lies Below. I sat frozen on my bedside, clutching onto my mother's suicide letter. These were the last word she left behind in this wall. Her final thoughts before departing forever.

Her handwriting was erratic, a mess of jumble words that hardly conveyed a proper meaning. He stood in stark contrast. to the rest of the journal, which had been carefully written down, marking each event of her life. Then I began to read over it again, tears forming in my eyes, and my heart weighing heavy. She'd never gotten to say goodbye, no final words exchanged between us, just a hundred unanswered questions and a life I couldn't possibly understand. I'm sorry, I'm so, so sorry, it's all my fault. I've opened the gateway to a different world a place that no one was ever supposed to see. I brought them back, these monsters. I failed to

stop it. I couldn't defeat them. All I ever wanted was to bring peace to those on the edge of life to give them one final moment of happiness before they passed over to the other side. When I first realized I could bring them back from death, I was hailed as a miracle worker. But these aren't miracles. their curses, monsters from another realm. These acolytes, they're not here to save us. They're taking over to Nebrus, and they're using me to do it. I tried to stop, I tried to leave, but they won't let me. I can't escape, I can't get away from Tenebrus.

I'm so sorry, but there's only one way to stop this. I need to die. I can't be responsible for more suffering. I could end it the only way I can. May God have mercy on you all. Those were the last thoughts running through my mother's head as she left our world behind. A crazy rant I still couldn't believe. There wasn't any further closure, no message left behind for me,

just the scramble words of a broken mind put down on a ripped out page of the diary. I didn't know why she'd hidden it, or more importantly, whom she'd hidden it from. I wanted to call Sheriff Dawson and ask if my mother had truly lost it, but as I fumbled around for my phone, I realised it was gone. I probably dropped it somewhere in Riley's car. Without it, I could do nothing save wait for morning to roll around. That night I didn't feel like sleeping. I just laid there in bed, holding onto the letter as I desperately tried to decipher what was going through her mind,

how much of it was real and why she hadn't tried to reach out during all the years before her death. Her diary provided few answers with so many of the pages ripped out. I needed to find them. I needed to know if there was any truth to her frantic rambles. But despite the overwhelming anxiety I felt about Tenebrus, my eyes eventually started to wear heavy. Our bed felt cold and the house was all too foreign, even with its familiar creeks and strange draughts of winds.

It prevented my tired mind from simply slipping away. It was a bizarre sensation to be in a place filled with so many familiar artifacts and memories, but to feel as if I didn't belong. Alex, on the other hand, felt safe beside me. He was resting peacefully, with his chest gently moving up and down to the rhythm of his breathing. To be that innocent and unaware of all the horrors in the world, was an emotion like long since forgotten. I envied him right then.

He was unfamiliar with my complicated past. I'd sheltered him from the horrors in the world, world so far but I feared his innocence might not last for very long. There was something dark lingering in the air of Tenebris and just the thought of having Alex beside me was a worrisome one. Whether my mother was crazy or telling the truth, something was wrong about this town. I turned over in bed just to look at him, afraid he might vanish if I took my eyes off him for just a second. Alex was the last bit of family I had left, a part of myself that might still. have the chance to enjoy all the beauty the world had to offer. I needed to protect him,

to keep him safe. As I shifted in bed, Alex moved over, ever so slightly. At first, I thought I'd awoken him, but then he said something that sent shivers down my spine. Mom, I don't like the crying man, Alex mumbled, half asleep. I thought he had to be dreaming, but the words were so familiar. I put a hand on his head and brushed my fingers gently through his hair. He needed a haircut. That much was for sure, but those were priorities for a different time. It's okay, Alex.

You're just having a dream. I uttered the words with such certainty, but then I felt the goosebumps rising on my arms for some inexplicable reason beyond my understanding. I was afraid. And then I heard it. The distinct sounds of a great thing. a man loudly sobbing. He was far away, I could tell that much, but between each cry he seemed

to be getting closer. His voice echoed down the empty streets outside. They wrung through the air, filling it with unfathomable dreads. It was just like what I'd heard back at the hospice care, back when I'd found Mr. Henderson in the basement. But the cries weren't ones of sadness, anger, or fear. As a kid, I'd naturally connected sobs with negative feelings. Yet there were no emotions hidden behind the man's calls. He simply sounded broken, and he was getting closer. I want to die again. I'd hurt to be here.

Why am I here? He cried before briefly switching to a wet, hoarse laugh. We will come. You will be our vessels. Just like Mr. Henderson, he was talking to himself, alternating between twisted sobs and sickening laughter. I walked carefully over to the window, parting the curtains just to take a quick peek outside. Since we were in the outskirts of town, there were few street lambs to speak of.

All I could see outside was the silhouette of a tall, twisted man, wandering down the road. Where he'd come from and what he wanted, I couldn't tell, nor did I care to find out. Despite the darkness, I could tell he was hurt. his limbs have been twisted in unnatural directions and he limped with bizarre steps each seeming elongated as if controlled by invisible strings mom who's that man alix asked finally awoken from the disturbing sounds i don't know was all i could think to respond is he sad strangely enough alex didn't seem afraid he was rather filled with concern for the crying man on the street I don't think so, I said. The sounds were bringing back memories I'd tried to repress for so long. All the nightmares I'd experienced in the past few months were all coming true. I'd always known they were more than mere dreams,

but to hear the crying once again was too much. Shouldn't we help him? Alex asked. No, honey, just stay in bed. There's nothing we can do for him. I said as I slowly closed the curtain. we just have to stay real quiet. Alex complied without asking any further questions. He'd always been good like that, at least with me.

We just lay in bed, awaiting sleep to overcome our tired minds. The crying man slowly made his way further down the road, eventually fading away into the darkness as his voice got out of range. I let out a sigh of relief, and after another hour passed, I finally drifted off to sleep. I woke to the sound of knocking on the door. Confused, I turned to face the clock, only to realise the battery had died. I'd overslept, and Alex was still snoring next to me.

During the course of the night, he turned 90 degrees in bed, lying across both mattresses with his face planted in the sheets. Laura? A voice called out from downstairs. Sorry, the door was open. Are you ready? It was Sheriff Dawson, ready to pick us up. for the memorial he was standing ready in the entrance hall already dressed in his uniform it was

odd as i could clearly remember locking the door the night before being paranoid about break-ins had hammered home that habit still having the sheriff escorting me around made me feel a bit more at ease though it had been 20 years since i'd last seen him i had nothing but fond memories of the man he'd always been around at events and gatherings making sure everyone got home safe and never shied away from lending a helping hand. On top of it all, he just might have answers regarding my mother. Good morning, Sheriff, I said with a groggy voice. Alex tugged on my shirt, gesturing for me to bend down to his level. He said to call him Morgan, he whispered into my ear. I almost let out a chuckle, but I was too tired to truly appreciate his concern. I'm sorry, the alarm seems to have died,

and we were up quite late. Up late? Did anything happen? I thought about it for a moment. It sounded all too surreal to even mention without seeming crazy. Well, there was a man outside. He was crying and screaming.

The sheriff frowned. You heard that, did you? He asked. I just nodded in return. Surprised you knew what I was talking about. I'm sorry, Long. There are a few disturbed individuals roaming around town. We're working on solving the problem, but I promise that you're safe here.

Alex went back to his room, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. He'd already gotten dressed in a shirt, formal enough for a memorial, but he needed to brush his teeth, a dangerous task when already dressed. I got myself ready in a hurry. We drove further into town together, towards the hospice care that I hadn't seen in years. How close were you and my mother, really? I finally asked the sheriff. Pretty close.

We grew up in the same neighborhood. I was a bit older than her. Even babysat her from time to time when we were both kids. She was a very special woman, your mother. It truly pains me to see her go. Do you know what happened to her? He looked over at me with a look of pity in his eyes. They didn't tell you.

I took the suicide letter up from my... pockets. I found this in the house. Sheriff Dawson sighed. Aggie was a great woman, but she was troubled. That much I can deny. None of it was her fault. She didn't choose what she was given. I just never thought it would come to this. The town desperately needed someone like her. What do you mean? Someone like her, I asked. Well, she was gifted. I'm not going to lie in saying. only good came from it, but she never meant anyone any harm. His words, though, clearly words of praise, didn't sit right with me. But before I could ask any further questions, Alex interrupted us with his own observations. Where are all the people? he asked. That was the first time I'd

noticed just how empty the streets felt. Though Tenebress had always been a small town, it hadn't ever been lacking in terms of shops, kiosks, and crowded markets. It just seemed like everything had closed down with the buildings run down and the population tired of the few people we actually saw most looked so old as if there hadn't been a kid born in town for decades de nebris care however was as polished as it had ever been it was an old building with classic victorian style architecture it stood in stark contrast to the semi-modern buildings in the rest of town all of them were so simple looking but only for their purpose and not to look good.

An elderly woman stood outside the gates to the hospice care, ready to greet us. I instantly recognised her as the head nurse, Mrs. Marianne Crawford. She looked exactly the same as I'd last seen her 20 years ago, but she had to be in her late 70s by then. She gave a friendly smile as she approached the car. Well, you must be Laura, she half asked, half stated. Her smile seemed only half genuine, which was still very unlike the stern woman. when I'd known growing up.

She'd always been so strict then, never happy about me roaming the hallways or interacting with her patience. It's good to see you again, Mrs. Crawford, I said, and I truly meant it, though I'd never liked her, just seeing something familiar amid the eerie atmosphere was a welcome gift. I'm so sorry about you, Mother, Agatha truly was a gifted woman. The sheriff got a call on his radio and excused himself. I have a gotta take this. You have my number if you need me, Lauren.

With that we went inside, ready to celebrate my mother's life. It'd be the first time I'd set foot in the facility since I was a child. Not much had changed. The seemingly endless hallways were still only illuminated by the same ancient light bulbs and the furniture looked identical. The entire place smelled of age, medication and death. It wasn't a pleasant environment, but no place. filled with death ever is.

The only noticeable difference was the paintings. They used to be representations of religious scenes, but they'd been replaced by abstract art I couldn't quite put my finger on. They were dark red with pale lines running in every which direction through them. Just looking at them caused distressing emotions to arise,

not something I would have imagined suitable for hospice care. Mrs. Crawford led us down the hallways, helping us navigate to the main common area where we'd hold the ceremony. Last time I'd been there, the halls always seemed so full of life, an ironic observation in a place meant for death. But there had been whole families there, visiting their loved ones, and staff that tried their best to defeat the somber atmosphere.

All that was gone now, and everything had fallen quiet. The building fell too barren, rid of all life. I'd be quiet here these days. I asked, trying to break the eyes. It's still the same old place you grew up in. Even most of the staff have remained the same. Not many young people are willing to up their roots and move to such a small town. It used to be a problem, but we're doing well enough these days.

She was right. The entire population was growing old. I would have assumed to meet many new faces upon my return, but I could recognize most of the nurses and doctors. It had already seemed old to me as a kid. but there they were, twenty years later, as if not a single day had passed. Once we reached my mother's old ward, I felt the familiar dread form in my chest. It was the same hallway that frequently haunted my nightmares.

The memories of darkness, the basement at the end, and the hopeless crying. These were the thoughts that still lingered in the back of my mind. Then we passed my mother's guest room. It still had her name attached to it with Rewples. rustic metal letters. Though it had never been our home, we had spent an inordinate amount of time here. Can I check out the room for a minute? I asked. After the ceremony, Mrs. Crawford insisted. I thought it odd that the building had been designed in such a way that we had to traverse the entire facility just to get to the common area. It meant that the family members had to cross a ward

full of death, just to get to the visiting section. I knew it was a old building repurposed for something greater, but it still bothered me. But before long we finally got to the ceremonial room. There are about two dozen people there already seated without speaking a word. They stared at us when we entered, but still didn't greet us, no further acknowledgement of our presence. So many people all there to pay their respects to my mother, and I still felt out of place. Please take a seat. Mrs. Crawford said as she pointed to a couple of chairs. Well, the guests kept staring at us when we sat down in our designated seats.

I could recognise a few of them. They'd been patients needing end of care life. But that was 20 years earlier. The fact that they were still breathing seemed beyond the realm of possibility. I tried to convince myself that they were just family members that looked the same, and that the memory of a seven-year-old wasn't a reliable one. everyone stay seated we'll begin shortly

mrs crawford said as she took her place at the front of the room for a moment she just stood there in silence almost seeming to say for the moment then a couple of people dimmed the lights and lit candles made from red wax the light they produced reminded me of the paintings in the lobby causing the same dread I'd felt

as I'd entered the building once the room was sufficiently dark it felt as if I'd left my child I had home and entered a new world I didn't recognise. The people around me, even those I'd known before, suddenly turned into strangers. Their faces didn't change, but the aura surrounding them was completely off. I grabbed Alex's hand in panic,

only snapping back to reality as he wince from the squeeze. Oh, I'll let go on my hand, he demanded. Alex didn't seem to notice the strange atmosphere in the room, despite the fact that not a person uttered a single word apart from Mrs. Crawford, and I couldn't stand the silence. Today we honour Agatha Florence, Mrs. Crawford said, finally breaking the deafening silence. Today we honour Agatha Florence, the crowd repeated.

She was our neffling, the gift to the acolytes. Again the crowd repeated what Mrs. Crawford had said. She grounded new life among death, for that she will be remembered. I looked around me, not sure whether to partake or just observe the events unfolding in the room. Life is a frail thing, a fact well known among humans. We shall not fall into that trap. We will be strong. The people get repeating each and every word she spoke.

But following that last sentence, she changed to a language I didn't understand. or to me it sounded Latin or Greek but I didn't have enough linguistic skills to say for sure. They all chanted different phrases, but one kept reappearing. Demorte ad vitale. Demorta ad vitale. Demorte ad vitale. It went on for a couple of minutes before silence suddenly refilled the route. I sat in both awe and nervous anticipation, wondering what would come next.

but no more chance were caught out. Instead, they just kept sitting there for minutes on end with their eyes closed. Alex had also started to look afraid. He squeezed my hand hard, but despite the bizarre events occurring before us, it didn't seem like we were in any immediate danger. And then, as quickly as it all began, it ended.

The room remained silent, and the candles started to extinguish themselves, having burned little more than 15 minutes. The smell they'd left behind was unfamiliar, a sense I couldn't readily identify. It was akin to the smell of a room that had been freshly cleaned out after the passing of a patient, a mixture of death and soap that not even time could wash away. Mrs. Crawford started heading towards the exit, and the rest of the crowd finally stood up, still not speaking freely.

I basically ran over to stop her, hoping to get some answers. She turned as she saw me try to navigate the mass of people, almost stumbling over. Miss Florence, how did you find the ceremony? I didn't want to be callous, but I couldn't just let the strange chanting slip by. What exactly was that? I asked, a bit ruder than I'd intended. I understand this might all seem foreign to you. That's one of the reasons why I wanted you to come. You need to know just how important Agatha was to this community.

her gift, her ability to save body so close to death, is something rarely heard of in this world. I'll explain it all to you, but only once the time has come. You need to be ready first. Once I'm ready for what? I began to ask, before I realized Alex had vanished from his seat. I'd only taken my eyes off him for a second, but that was enough to let him vanish out of sight. Alex, I called out. then I turned back to Mrs. Crawford.

Did she see where my son went? She shook her head. I quickly scanned the room for him before I rushed to the door, exiting into the hallway. Even there, Alex was nowhere in sight. Alex! I caught out again as adrenaline rapidly built up in my blood. The people had all left the room

but hadn't entered the same hallway as myself. It was eerily quiet, and I couldn't decide which way to run. Then I heard something echoing through the empty halls, a child's laugh. It was coming from the direction of the basement, and I instinctively knew Alex had gone down there. I started running towards the sound of laughter. It wasn't a natural one, the kind you'd expect from children playing around. It was hollow, just like the crying.

It sounded like someone faking emotion, but not being able to put proper emphasis in the right places. The door to the basement was wide open, showing little more than a void of darkness in size. I rushed towards it, calling out for Alex, but my calls were drowned out by the laughter of emotionless children. But, before I could even reach the basement door, a large figure came running out towards me, carrying Alex in his arms. It was Sheriff Dawson, who'd returned from his call just in time to grab my son. Laura, I just...

What happened, I asked. I'm sorry, Mum, Alex said. I just wanted to play with the children. The sheriff gave me a concern, look. I'm sorry, Laura. I saw your kid go into the basement. I just went down to bring him back. They're quite strict about allowing people in there.

By then, the commotion had caught the attention of Mrs. Crawford. It came over to check what was going on. I'm sorry. Alex repeated. I held my arm around him as I look questioningly at Mrs. Crawford. Sorry, he only took my eyes off him for a second. He doesn't usually run away like that. That's all right, Miss Florence.

Did he go into the basement? I nodded. She then redirected her attention towards Alex, who was clutching onto my leg. What did you see down then? She asked firmly. Alex was too nervous to respond. or I called him just as he descended the staircase.

Just let it slide, Marry her. Sheriff Dawson interjected. Mrs. Crawford or a stern expression on her face, just like I'd remembered her as a child. But it didn't seem plain strict, but almost malicious in its intent. What exactly is down in the basement? I asked. That's really not for you to ask at this time. Whatever's down there belongs to us.

I looked pleadingly at the sheriff, hoping he'd help me out. Instead, he just shook his head, gesturing for me to let it go. I obliged without further questions. I felt afraid, but it had definitely been children laughing from down in the basement. I was starting to realize that Tenebris might not be safe anymore. Let's just move on. I'll show you to your mother's old root. Part 4. What was left behind. Mrs. Crawford led us further on in silence. She was angry at Alex for trying to enter the basement, but her refusal to answer even the most basic question about the place had only further ignited my curiosity. Before long we stood by the door to my mother's room. The letters were rusted and had clearly been neglected even before

my mother's death. Dawson looked nervous. He kept looking over his shoulder, then back at Mrs. Crawford. who wore her usual annoyed expression. I trust you can expect the room without assistance, she asked. Me and Sheriff Dawson need to have a talk. I nodded anxiously as a response. With that, she just unlocked the door and ushered Alex and myself inside before shutting it behind us. The room looked the same as I remembered it,

a perfect window into my partially forgotten childhood. Not a single thing had changed, down to each piece of furniture, and some stains on the carpet I myself had created when I was six. Alex ran inside, happy to escape the scolding stare of Mrs. Crawford. Once there he finally eased up a bit. Still, I needed to know what exactly had happened to him down in the basement. Why did you run away? I asked him, as kindly as I could.

Miss frown returned. He looked more guilty than scares. The children told me to come with them. They said I had to. What children? They're... They're not really children, he responded meekly. What do you mean? What are they then?

Well, they're kids like me, but... Then the acolytes change them. Now there's something else. That word sounded familiar. It was something Mrs. Crawford had briefly mentioned during the memorial, but its meaning remained a mystery. Who were the acolytes? I don't know.

They'd just say they'd hurt you if I didn't go with them. If it hadn't been for the children's laughter I'd heard, I wouldn't have believed him. It shouldn't have been more than his overactive imagination at play, but things in Tenebrus weren't like they were supposed to be. Why would they hurt me? Because of me, they wanted to kill you. I was left speechless by his last statement. The children said that.

Alex just nodded. Alex, I need to know exactly what you saw. Can you please describe it for me? By then he was looking down at the ground, avoiding eye contact. He didn't want to respond, which said more about the place itself than whatever he could have described. I needed to get him out of the hospice care as soon as possible, but first I needed to check something. As a child, I'd frequently gotten candies and other small things from the patients. Unfortunately for me, my mother had a strict, no sugar rule.

so whenever I got a hold of a piece of candy I decided to hide it one of the old cupboards had a loose plank which I could easily dislodge even as a kid I used to hide the forbidden snacks inside a small space at the back of the cupboard hoping to eat them when my mother wasn't watching alas I wasn't very slick and she almost always caught me I became a running joke when we both enjoyed among all the hardship I remembered from my childhood that was one of the few fond memories I had head of us together. Since the place hadn't changed, I figured it might be worth a look. If my mother had left something behind for me, she just might have hidden it in our secret stash. I walked into my old bedroom and sure enough the cupboard was still there. Without hesitation I pried open the backside and stuck my hand inside. The whole had seemed so big as a child, a place fitting for an endless amount of ill-gotten goods, but now it was all too small. I could barely fit my hand inside. Then I felt something, the familiar touch of paper against my skin. I struggle a bit,

but eventually managed to pull out a bundle of tied-together papers. Just like the suicide note, they had torn edges and were made from the same type of paper as the journal itself. I didn't need to inspect the room any further. Money or not, it wasn't worth sticking around. my plan was to talk to Riley, sign whatever documents he had ready, and leave town with a full journal. Once we left the room, Mrs. Crawford and Dawson were still talking in the hallway. Leaving so soon? Mrs. Crawford asked, trying to put on a fake smile. Yes, unfortunately, I have to go over to the house before returning back home. I need to get back to work and so on, I said, trying to sound casual.

before you leave laura there's something i'd like to talk to you about regarding your mother why don't you just tell me now it'd be better if we could discuss that in private it's a complicated situation i thought about the offer i couldn't hurt to hear her out but there was little i wanted more than to just leave if i just agreed to her meeting then fled town no one could ever stop me when can we talk then how about that tomorrow morning. You come by the hospice and I'll tell you everything you want to know about her. I looked over to Alex, not willing to let him out of my sight again. I agreed to the meeting, still not sure if I'd show up at all. We left the building and I looked for my phone so I could give Riley a call. It was almost noon and I desperately needed to sign the papers and escape.

But my phone was missing, a fact I'd forgotten during the craziness of the day. It was probably still laying around somewhere inside Riley's car. I just turned to Dawson, hoping he could help me out. Sheriff, do you have a phone I can borrow? Sorry, I only have my radio one on duty. I'm sure you can use the landline in the lobby, though. The mere thought of re-entering the clinic made me shudder. I didn't have much of a choice.

I went back inside and called Riley. Hello, this is John Riley. How may I help you? Hi, it's me, Laura. Oh, hello, Miss Florence. Sorry I didn't call you earlier. I've been backed up at work. I actually wanted to ask if we could postpone our meeting until tomorrow.

Something urgent came up. I sighed, but agreed. I wanted to leave that day, but since Mrs. Crawford had insisted that we meet again, I might as well stay until morning. As long as I could avoid the hospice at least. That way I could spend the rest of the day just sorting out the ripped pages. Sheriff Dawson took us home and offered to give us. a lift if we wanted to go anywhere else.

Kept insisting that we call him if anything happened, almost as if he expected something horrible. Before I sorted out the diary, I had to deal with Alex. It was an easy enough task. I simply put him in front of the television,

which would buy me at least a couple of hours. It wasn't the best method of parenting, but these were extraordinary circumstances that called for alternative means, and Alex certainly didn't mind. Just touching the, paper fell old. It was the last bit of my mother that still existed in this world. It astonished me that something so simple could contain the entire life of a whole person. It took me about half

an hour just to reassemble the book. I put it down in front of me, taking a moment to admire the work I'd done. It was finally time to figure out what my mother had so desperately tried to hide. April 19, 1997. Mr. Clark died. last night, took his last breath while I was sleeping. I promised to be there with him when the time came, but I failed him. There was just no real warning signs. He'd seemed

fine the evening before, and we expected him to have at least another week left. He just died, died in silence without a soul noticing. He drew his last breath, and the world just didn't change. He was pronounced dead when the morning staff found him at 5.34 a.m., just

like that. But that's not the worst part. because when they moved him to the morgue, I accidentally touched his arm, and I could have sworn I felt it twitch. I told the other nurses to stop, but they just kept going, claiming I'd imagine the whole thing. I double-checked to see if the ripped-out segment fit, and I continued reading. I just couldn't let it go, so I sneaked into the pathology lab as they were starting the autopsy. He wasn't breathing, and his skin looked as pale as any other corpse I'd ever seen. I was starting to think I might have just imagined this whole thing, ready to leave the room,

before they made the first incision. He shouldn't have needed an autopsy, but his family insisted, claiming his death to be preventable, despite all scans proving he had advanced cancer. The pathologist brought out the bone sore, ready to cut through his sternum. I couldn't watch, so I rushed out the door. But just as it closed behind me, Mr. Clark sat up straight and started scrubs. dreaming in agony. He was still alive. It didn't necessarily mean that the doctors were wrong, but he'd somehow come back from the brink of death. It was a miracle. They quickly send him to surgery

to repair the damage. I guess I'll know more tomorrow. I still remembered Mr. Clark. I'd met him when I was only four years old. He was actually one of the first patients I ever met at Tenebrus care. Though his mind was far gone, I spent hours just listening to him, played the piano, and in the lobby while my mother worked. It was pretty much the only thing he could still do. He always seemed so tired, but not in a sickly way, more like he was ready for bed, getting his well-earned rest. He was a good man, so reading about his live dissection was a horrible thought that almost made me gag. But if he'd lived, then, why hadn't I ever seen him again? I had to continue reading. April 21st, 1997.

A couple of doctors came to visit me today. They wanted to talk about Mr. Clark's miraculous revival. When I asked why they wanted me, they simply said I had the most exposure to the patient and that I might be able to help them figure things out. Of course I agreed. I thought of the man as a friend, and if I could aid in his recovery in any way,

who was I to say no? They brought me to a rehabilitation facility just at the outskirts of town. Mr. Clark had been isolated in his own room, with restraints pinning him down to the bed. He didn't move, he just lay there, and stared lifelessly up at the ceiling above him. I asked them why they tied him up, to which they just shrugged and said he had a couple of violent outbursts. It was mainly for his own protection, but they also warned me not to get too close. The idea seemed ridiculous at the time.

Mr. Clark was so unbelievably frail he couldn't possibly lift a finger to hurt anyone. Then I saw the pair of torn restraints lying on the bedside table. He broke through the first pair, the doctor said without any further explanation. I guess they were just old, but better be careful. I went inside, and Mr. Clark just stared at me. The skin under the restraints had turned raw from the struggle, but the wounds didn't seem to be bleeding. Agatha, he said, letting out a strange chuckle.

You know that no one ever caused me that, I said. Please, kill me. he then begged. His expression quickly changing from apathy to one of absolute soul-breaking fear. It only lasted for a moment before he started to laugh again. I took a step back in shock,

which seemed to confuse him. You fear me, why? You're not acting like yourself. The doctor said you're experiencing violent outbursts. I can never hurt you, Neffinim. You granted me life, he said. No, I don't want to be here. I'm not supposed to be alive.

Please kill me. Nephleth. Kill me. It hurts to be here. Please. He groaned in panic. It felt as if he was arguing with himself, like two people were trapped inside his body. He didn't even sound like Mr. Clark anymore, but he knew my name.

Who are you? He started laughing again. We are the acolytes, and I am just the first of so many to come through. Then he cried again, begging for death. switching between the gleeful and desperate personalities. Thank you, Nephilim, was the last thing I heard him say. With that, he just pulled the restraints off the bedframe and sat up in bed. The doctors and nurses rushed into the room, putting him down as they administered some

kind of sedative. Even then he didn't stop, he just kept laughing. They gave him a second shot, then a third, and finally he fell limp in his bed. one of the doctors pulled me to the side asking for me to confirm some information though he seemed scared he wasn't at all surprised by mr clark's bizarre behavior the chart says he died from complications of stage four pancreatic cancer is that right i nodded ah we did some scans and there's no sign of any tumor mass apart from his obvious delusions he's perfectly healthy how is that possible i don't know we'll keep him here for observation

They kept asking me questions about his prior history, how he'd acted before he got diagnosed with cancer, and how the disease had changed it. Once they realised I couldn't help them, they escorted me off the premises. Unofficially the weird behaviour was explained by hypoxia during his death, but I am not so sure. Whatever the case, they're not letting me meet with Mr. Clark again. I'm happy he's alive, of course, but I'm not so sure it's really him. many more. I skimmed over the next few pages of the journal. They were pretty much just recounting her average day. Despite the trauma, my mother was slowly falling back into old habits. What had happened to Mr. Clark was just written off as a one-time event, so much that weeks would pass

before another miraculous resurrection took place. June 2nd, 1997. It happened again. A dead man was brought back to life hours after he dies. I just happened to be by his side as he drew his last breath. He was so afraid, begging for me just to hold his hands. I felt the life drained from him. I felt him fall limp as his heart stopped beating. As the doctor's called the time of death, I just sat there staring at him for a while. His name was Jonathan Gates, and he'd lost his entire family in a car crash almost a decade earlier. It was alone when he got sick, and he died without any familiar faces around him. We put him in the morgue

hoping that he could finally be with his family again. Hours passed and we started to hear knocking coming from his mortuary cooler. As we pulled him out, he just sat there and stared at us. He didn't even seem confused, nor at all affected by the hours

he'd spent dead. He was just fine, it didn't make any sense. I don't understand. What had been a singular, unexplained event turned to repeated impossible resurrections. Throughout the next month, even years, my mother went through these incredible recoveries, quickly understanding that her presence around the dead

was in fact bringing them back. Any person she touched after their death would be brought back to life. Of course, my mother never shared that detail with anyone. Had it gotten out that she had the ability to bring people back from death, she'd have been locked up in a lab instantly. The only ones aware of her powers were herself and those she'd saved. Whether it was a gift or a curse, she didn't yet know.

But seeing how her life was eventually ended by her own hands, something must have made her come to the latter conclusion. I kept reading on, hoping to finally learn what had caused my mother to finally take her own life. 8th of May 2000. I can't leave. The Acolytes won't let me. I tried so hard to stop bringing people back but they're forcing my hand. If I don't keep working for them, they'll kill the ones I love and bring them back as they're

out. But the hospice care isn't enough for them anymore. I keep hearing about people dying in their homes, not the sick, not the elderly, but perfectly healthy people. The acolytes tell me I'm saving lives, but I know that's not the truth. The people I save, they always change. They take something back with them from the other side. Entities that aren't supposed to be here.

Mrs. Crawford is horrified. She is one of the few that realizes the extent of the situation. She knows something dark is coming back with the resurrected. I need to tell her the truth. I need to tell her I'm the one bringing them back. Maybe she can get Laura out of town before they take her too. But if she has the same abilities as myself, She'll never be safe.

I don't know how I'll keep protecting her. I wish I could tell her the truth, but it's better for her if she just thinks I'm crazy. As long as she stays safe, it doesn't matter. I'm so sorry, Laura. I hope you can forgive me one day. That last page awoke memories within me. I vaguely recall Mrs. Crawford being the one to drive me out of town. She dropped me off at my grandparents' place, saying my mother had gotten sick,

and that I couldn't visit her for a while. Of course, I didn't understand that at the time. But as I got older, my grandparents told me it was due to mental issues. They started spewing lies about her being crazy, that she wasn't fit to care from me anymore. Whether that was part of the deal or not, I didn't know. In any case, they passed away when I was 17. They died in an unexplained housefire,

taking their lives and everything they ever owned away. I was out with friends that night. coming home to find that everything was gone. As my legal guardians, there wasn't anyone forcing me to go back to my mother in Tenebrus once they died. Instead, I got emancipated and started working as I lived with three roommates in a tiny apartment. But my mother wasn't crazy.

I'd come to believe that much, and the worst thing was I'd given up on her, never thinking to check in as I turned to an adult. She was just trying to protect me, but I still had so well. many questions. I turned to the next page, just as I heard the house phone ringing. I've completely forgotten about its existence, and I just naturally assume that the

landline had been disconnected following my mother's death. Hello, this is Laura. Yes, Florence. This is Marianne Crawford. I'm calling about our meeting tomorrow. I understand that the past two days must have been very tough for you, but you need to know the truth about your mother. she was not who you think she was

that please come to my office at Tenebrous Care tomorrow at 9 a.m. I nodded in response, forgetting that she couldn't see me. Miss Florence? Yeah, I'll be there. Thank you for calling. The conversation had felt forced and ended shortly after. Mrs. Crawford had known my mother her whole life.

I was torn between skipping town and learning more about my mother. If anyone could give me, me the answers, I thought it would be Mrs. Crawford. I put the phone down and kept on reading. December 7, 2015. Marianne is dead. Of all the people in the world, I thought for sure that she would outlive us all. She wasn't even sick, nor did she have any underlying conditions any of us knew of. Sure she was in her late 60s, but she was as fit as a fill, just as always. Resisting the burnout the defected us all she was my best friend in this world my last hope of ever escaping tenebrus but now she's gone and i'm all alone carrying this secret with me if i leave town now they'll

just go after laura i have to stay here but that means they'll force me to bring marian back as one of them it's not going to be long before every single citizen of tenebris has turned into one of the acolytes i need to talk to morgan he's the only one i can trust now Mrs. Crawford had died. I put the book down and thought back to our meeting. She was so happy to have me back in town, which should have been suspicious enough as she'd never before been appreciative about my company.

It wasn't her, that much I knew for sure. But I didn't understand why she needed me to stay in Tenebrose, unless she thought I possessed the same power as my mother. Whoever I'd be meeting tomorrow, It sure wouldn't be Mrs. Crawford. Part 5. Dawson. The first thing I did after learning about Mrs. Crawford's death was attempt to call a friend back in my home city.

I just needed someone to get us out of town. But, as fate would have it, no calls would go outside of town. Whoever was in control of the phone lines had made certain it only worked locally. I needed to talk to Sheriff Dawson, who'd be the one picking me up in the morning. He was his usual punctual self, showing up with a concern look but comforting presence. Hear any strange sounds during the night? He asked. Not this time. It was pretty quiet. I'm glad to hear it. Listen, I know things seem strange around here, but I need you to know that I wouldn't let anything happen to you.

His words seem so genuine. The concern in his eyes truly shone through his otherwise confident exterior. He was the only person in Tenebris I thought I could trust. I needed to open up and tell him what I knew. I know about my mother, I said, shaking if he'd finally come clean about the information he held. He turned pale white, holding a finger to his lips and gesturing for me to keep quiet. What?

He walked over, a little too close for comfort. Then he leaned in towards my ear and whispered just enough to make me keep my mouth shut. They're always listening. Who are? The acolyte. He was getting visibly upset by this conversation. His calm demeanor had turned to a nervous, jumpy one.

Not here. We need to go somewhere else to talk. Do you trust me? Let's get some breakfast. I nodded. He had to be a better option than Mrs. Crawford. We followed him into the patrol car and he started driving towards the outskirts of town, where the diner was.

I put a headset on Alex to make sure he wasn't listening in to our conversation. It played his favourite audiobook, giving me a moment of half-privacy with Sheriff Dawson. Can we just leave town? Dawson shook his head. Ah, they'd find you. Your mother tried it once, but when they threatened to bring you in, she came back. They've isolated town, no calls in, nor out. no one leaves without explicit permission.

Who are those people? Oh, they ain't people, Laura. Whatever your mother brought back, it's something evil. Then a thought hit me. If everything I'd heard was true, why hadn't they converted him to whatever they were? Oh, I had too many questions, and I didn't know how to express them all in a meaningful manner.

Instead, they just fell out of me like an incomprehensible alphabet suit. but Dawson, being the sheriff and all, had plenty of experience talking to people in shock. Why haven't they taken you? He paused at that, as if feeling guilty at my remark. Sheriff? They, um, let me stay. They needed someone to cover for them as they brought more of their kind into our world.

They're smart, and they adapt. But they're not human. Something anyone could notice if they spent enough time. time around them. So they use me to keep people out of town to make sure no one falls suspicious. In the beginning there were just a few of them. I knew they were acting strange, but not that they weren't human anymore. Oh, but now, I don't even know if there's anyone else left. Maybe Riley, I don't know. He's always been a weird case. He took a deep breath, his voice cracking ever so slightly as his previously strong facade started to fade. I told myself I did it to protect

the living, to protect you. The truth is, I just couldn't stand the idea of one of them inside my corpse. I don't want to walk around like some sick puppet after I've died. I trusted him, mostly because he was the only bit of genuine human interaction I'd experienced in Tenebraus. The rest had all been too artificial. I'd written that emotion off as nervousness, but well, it made sense. All the people had been familiar, yet foreign. It's because they weren't themselves, but rather vessels walking around, housing creatures from another world.

My mind was shattered. I still didn't fully understand what was going on in Tenebrus, or why my mother had been so important to bringing people back. But one burning question still remains. why me you mean you haven't figured it out yet well the question almost felt condescending of course the thought had struck me but i needed absolute confirmation you're here to replace your mother sheriff dawson said by then we'd already reached the diner the lifeless exterior hardly seemed inviting but i needed food had barely eaten since arriving saving, save for the few snacks I brought with me. Listen, you're going to have to pretend that you don't know what's going on.

Just play dumb. We're just here to eat. If we stray away from the plan for too long, they'll get suspicious. I took the headset off Alex's head. He was still as ignorant about the horrors around him as ever, smiling at the thought of more French fries drowned in ketchup. You hungry, hon, I asked. Alex nodded enthusiastically.

just get the meatloat for fries it's the only thing not rotting around here they've kept that stuff frozen since the owner's died the sheriff whispered to me they don't eat i asked they don't have to as before there were no people inside save for the waitress that didn't bother greetings she moved around strangely akin to a calf learning how to walk i hadn't noticed it last time as she seemed fine, albeit empty inside. You all right? Dawson asked. The waitress ignored him, just took our orders and left with broken steps towards the back room. We ordered our food and waited in silence. I wanted to keep talking to the sheriff, but with one of them around it wasn't safe. You kept looking over to the counter. There wasn't anyone manning it.

In fact, the waitress was the only woman we'd ever seen at that diner since returning to ten. It only took about ten minutes for our food to arrive. It was clearly a little more than defrosted meatloaf for me and poorly cooked fries for Alex. Still, with enough ketchup, he didn't notice. I tried my best to eat it, more from hunger than actual appetite. It tasted like cardboard, which was a better alternative than rot. And then we heard it again, the sound of someone crying. didn't take too long to realize it was the waitress.

Yet, like with all the others, there wasn't a hint of emotion in the wines. Stay here, I'll deal with this. Dawson ordered. The sheriff stood up and headed towards the back room of the diner. Alex and I remained behind, silently listening to the empty sobs. Why is she crying? I don't know, Alex. Just keep eating. Is Sheriff Morgan helping her? He asked.

Yeah, she'll be fine. The sheriff knows exactly how to handle these things. Alex seems satisfied by the answer. His world was so simple, as if we couldn't get hurt when we had our own police officer watching over us. Oh, I wish I could have felt that safe, but I knew that even Dawson couldn't keep the creatures from this town away from us. Sit still, damn it.

I'm just doing what they told me to. We heard Dawson yelling from the back room. I got curious, and with... No one else in the diner, I figured Alex would be safe if I just got to take a peek. Stay here, Alex, I'll be back in a second. I tried to walk quietly towards the back room where Dawson had entered. I could hear him struggle on the other side, and it had me worried. I opened the door and found him trying to pin down the waitress, holding a massive syringe in his hand.

The waitress's sobs immediately turned to laughter as she saw me. A broken, wet laugh, like she had not. overabundance of phlegm stuck in her friends it is she never him she laughed she will bring the acolyse to this world she is ours the sheriff turned to me for a second Laura what are you doing get out of here he shouted before plunging the syringe into the waitress's leg she just kept laughing you shall leave you belarthe out but then she reverted back to crying Her eyes lit up with absolute heart-breaking sorrow. The creature that occupied her body had vanished.

I don't want to be here. It hurts so much. I just want to go. I just... She drifted off as the liquid dorsen injected started to work. What did you give her? The torfine, he said as he showed me the empty syringe. I have to give them that when they start acting weird.

What happens if you don't? "'Ah, and the vessels break, and they show their true form.' "'Vessels? Well, um, the people they're using, the bodies. "'Now, trust me on this, you do not want to see what they really look like,' he said, frustrated at my presence. He stood back up and threw the syringe onto the ground. Then he escorted me out of the room and back into the diner. Alex had already finished his meal. Dawson rushed us both into his patrol car, clearly annoyed that I'd interrelated,

He interrupted him. You really shouldn't have done that, Laura. I'm sorry. I heard you yelling. I thought, I've been doing this for a long time. I need you to trust me if I'm going to keep you safe. The car fell silent. Alex had returned to his audiobook, still unaware just how close we were to danger.

She called me Nephilim. What's that? The sheriff sighed. I'm not exactly sure. Marianne and your mother were always better at these things. Basically means descendant of angels. Your mother was one, and by extension you are too. That's why your mother could bring people back from death.

Angels? Shouldn't that be a good thing? There's another translation of the word. Some think it means fallen, but I don't know. Whatever the history behind the word is, it's a curse brought upon this town. I'm sorry your mother had to be the one bearing. it, but at this point, I don't know if we can ever stop it. Defeating evil wasn't my first priority at that point.

Before I did anything stupid, I needed to get Alex out of town. Sheriff, can't you call for help? I asked. What do you mean? There has to be some other town nearby that hasn't been taken by these things. Couldn't they help? They die like the rest of them, and who's going to believe Tenebrus has been taken over by horrific creatures from another world anyway.

He asked back. Not that it matters. There's no way of contact in the outside world. Lines are down, and there are no work in cell towers anywhere near us. The best I could do is use my radio,

but even then I'd have to be miles outside of town. What about leaving to Nebris then? Leave. If I follow through on the meeting with Mrs. Crawford, could you leave? Alone. I suppose they won't care to. too much if they keep in an eye on you,

then I need you to take Alex away from Tenebrus. We both know it's me they want, but I need to save my son. He trusts you, and so do I. Orra, it's not. Please, if they're going to take me,

I at least need to know that he's safe. Dawson's side as he mulled over the question. All right, I'll get him out of town, but I can't protect you if I'm not here. We were about to reach the hospice again, but that time no one waited for us outside. Dawson stopped the car, and I got out. Alex tried to follow me, but I stopped him. Alex, I'm going to meet with Mrs. Crawford alone.

I need you to stay with Sheriff Dawson in the meantime, okay? He shook his head in refusal. I want to come with you. I know, but this time you can't. I need to speak to her in private. You trust the Sheriff right? Alex nodded. he's a good man he'll look after you and keep you safe i explained but who will protect you he asked i couldn't help but smile at his concern but the joy quickly faded as i realized just how right he might be

who he didn't understand the horrors surrounding to nebris he knew enough to be concerned about my safety before i could answer dawson stepped forward holding a walkie in his hand since you lost your phone I figured this will be a suitable replacement at least we can keep in touch then he said as he handed me the radio and then he turned to Alex you see now she can talk to us whenever she

needs to Alex smiled convinced that everything would work out I'll come back as soon as I can be careful in there all right thank you Sheriff just call me Morgan your mother always

did. I embraced Alex in a hug, trying to hold back tears. I didn't know if I'd ever be able to see him again, but I rejoiced in the fact that he'd be safe, even if it meant my own sacrifice. If these things wanted to keep me here, at least I'd go down swinging. What Dawson hadn't seen was that I took a large container of a torphing with me alongside a couple of syringes. Dawson drove off with Alex, and I entered the hospice care. Ready to learn the truth about my purpose in their world. Art 6. Replacement. Once again, I stood in the cold lobby of Tenebress Care.

The abstract art, the strange symbols, served as the only decoration. I studied them as I waited for Mrs. Crawford to pick me up, trying to decipher their meaning. They were Hebrew, I'd figured out that much, but whatever meaning they held was lost on me. "'All right, good to see you,' Mrs. Crawford greeted coldly. "'Where's your son?' "'Left him at home. He doesn't need to be here for our meeting.

"'I thought you said we speak in private anyway. "'Naturally, however, we do have people here to help watch over children.' "'She argued, though, the worries were clearly not fueled by concern for Alex's well-being. "'He's being watched. Thanks for your concern.' he's with dorson then she asked look you brought me here to talk about my mother and my purpose how about we talk about that she gave me an empty smile and gestured for me to follow together we traversed the endless corridors towards her office that time i realized just how empty the building felt there weren't any staff nor patience to fill the deafening silence of the facility it was deadly and I could tell it had been like that for a long time. Without the creatures to put up a facade, there wasn't anything denying that fact. Where are the patients? I asked, almost sarcastically.

I didn't expect an answer, but she still responded to my inquiry. Well, they're all alive and fine, thanks to your mother. Because she brought them back from death. She stopped in her tracks. Well, you've finally figured it out. I nodded. Good. We finally arrived at her office.

I'd only seen it a single time as a kid, and I was being scolded for talking to patients in front of the visitors then. I vividly remembered the place as a cold place full of strange religious artifacts and awards for her extraordinary contributions to the town. There hadn't been any pictures of friends or family, just a singular one taken with my mother. She'd been a harsh woman in life,

but she gave everything for her patience. My mother always respected that, and despite the fact that I never got along with her, she was a role model well worth looking up to. All of that was a bunch of fragmented memories, because the office I stepped into on that day didn't have anything more than a desk and some papers. It was plain, depressing,

and rid of the life Mrs. Crawford had once left. What it had been turned into was just another room to house the crucible, creatures that had taken over to Nebris. Are you not afraid? Mrs. Crawford asked. Should I be? She smiled again, but though her mouth was contorted into a crescent resembling joy,

her eyes spoke the truth. There was not a hint of emotion behind her fake gestures, just emptiness. Your mother had a gift, the power to bring people back from the brink of death. She quite literally held the power of life in her pocket. arms. She was a Nephilim. Neffelin was a word I'd heard all too many times since arriving into Nebrates, but I knew its most basic meaning, the intent of the title was unknown. What exactly is in Nefellon? I asked, a descendant of the first angels whose powers were transferred to their offspring. Your mother was a child of those angels, which granted her the power of life. As her

daughter, you were simply an extension of that lineage. You're a special, Laura. I looked at her as she spoke the words of praise. My ancestors might have been angels, but that didn't mean they were pure creatures, because even the first angels fell to her. What did you do to her? Oh, my mother. We just made her utilize her full potential. Now that she's gone, we need a replacement. She stared at me with expecting eyes. I already knew I'd be the replacement, but as long as Alex got out of town, I didn't care. No, we already made that mistake with your mother.

She never appreciated her gift. This time we need someone younger, someone that understands. Our town needs someone that can save the poor people within. As it is, everyone will die. The fact that could be prevented, if only we had the right person. her words almost sounded sincere emphatic but

well they were just lies so you'd just keep me trapped here like you did with my mother her fake smile turned to an expressionless face did you not learn anything about compassion during your stay here did I not teach you to care about those that suffer I didn't respond I just stared intensely at her

hoping to get any kind of information based on her flat facade I was there when you were just a little girl, trying to guide you towards the truth. I tried to show you that any gift of life has to be utilised for the greater goods. The problem is Mrs. Crawford was a good woman, and you're not her. As I said that, I decided the time had come to end our conversation. Dawson and Alex had to be a safe distance away, which meant I only had one chance at escaping myself. I brought out the syringe I'd taken from Dawson's car.

and plunged it into Mrs. Crawford's neck before she could even begin to react. Instinctively, she tried to pull it out, but it was too late. She just stared at me in a mixture of shock and apathy. She wasn't angry nor afraid. She let out the faintest chuckle as her body started to go limp.

I'll never help you. You don't need to. We already have our replacement. With that, her body fell back into her chest. She was unconscious, which just about gave me enough time to flee. I exited the office trying to seem as casual as I could and locked it behind me. The hallways were still empty, which seemed odd. I knew I wouldn't just go along with the plan, but there was no one there to stop me.

I hurried my way towards the main exit, waiting to get outside before I called Dawson over the radio. As I fled, Mrs. Crawford's last words lingered in the bed. back of my mind. I'd expected myself as a replacement, but she wasn't talking about me. As soon as I got out of the building, I picked up the radio. Sheriff, are you there? Silence. Sheriff, Alex. I was met with another moment of silence, before realizing I had to take my finger off the button. Laura, you there? We're fine. Can you hear me, Dawson asked. I'm about to leave the hospice. Are you safe?

Yeah, we're fine. A couple of miles down Glover Road, just outside of town. I managed to get hold of a few offices from Greenfield. I'll meet them halfway, drop off Alex with them, and then I'll come back for you. I'll call you when I... He was interrupted by a split second long, loud crash before the radio fell silent. Dawson, I called out.

No response. It sounded like they'd just crashed the car, but the possibility of it being an accident was slim to none. Still, Mrs. Crawford's last words kept ringing in the back of my mind as I futilely tried to figure out what to do. We've already found our replacement. And then it hit me. They never wanted me to replace my mother.

They wanted Alex. Part 7. Broken facade. I stood frozen on the street looking around for any means of transportation. Dawson and Alex had lost contact somewhere on Glover Road, which meant they were in danger. There were a few abandoned cars standing by the sidewalk, but all seemed to have been untouched for about a decade. I went from car to car, looking through the window to see if any had their keys visible.

The first I found was an old Honda that didn't look like it had been touched since the change of the century. chances were it no longer ran but since it had keys clearly visible i had to try with no people around i didn't hesitate to break the window and get inside i put the key in the ignition but the car wouldn't start as i suspected it had been years since anyone had touched it so i tried another one same deal i went from car to car trying each one that held a key but none would start it occurred to me that the acolytes might not need vehicles. In fact, I hadn't seen anyone using cars apart from Riley and Dawson. As those thoughts ran through my head, I saw Riley pull up at the hospice. He looked worried,

rushing towards the door without even noticing all the smashed glass on the street. His car would be the best chance I had to escape, but I needed his keys first. Riley, I called out as I ran towards him. He seemed genuinely surprised to see me, mixed with a hint of guilt. Laura, what are you doing here? I took care of Mrs. Crawford. What? He looked almost afraid, worried that I might lunge at him.

With him distracted by surprise, I took the chance at overpowering him. I put out the second syringe I'd stolen and held it firmly against his neck. Laura, what are you doing? I need your car keys. All right, all right, just don't kill me. please.

Don't pretend like this would kill you. I'm not letting you take my son, you piece of shit. No, wait, I'm not one of them. Please, I don't want to die. I hesitated. He seemed absolutely terrified, so full of real emotion, unlike anything I'd seen emerge from the Acolynes. You brought us here.

If you're not one of them, then why the fuck are you helping them? He was shaking. You don't know what they're capable of. that they have my daughter. They made me help them. Please don't kill me. If I'm gone, they'll kill her. For a moment I actually felt sorry for the man, but the facts do remain that he'd aided them in kidnapping my own son. So while I wasn't going to hurt him, I could still use him to get where I needed to go. Right, get in the car, you're driving. Just take my keys and let me go, he said as he pulled them out from his pockets. "'No, I can't let you warn them.'

"'I pushed the needle closer to his skin, "'puncturing it, but not injecting the fluid.' "'He obliged and got into the driver's seat. "'Get me to Glover Road.' "'We started driving, fast. "'On the empty roads, it hardly mattered "'if we kept to the speed limit. "'Reilly was sweating bullets,

"'his hands shaking as he gripped "'on to the steering wheel for dear life. Your daughter. What's her name? I asked. Amanda, Riley stuttered. Do you know where she is? Basement of the hospice care. That's where they keep all the children and broken vessels. Why? I don't know. Please, Laura, these things, they're not human. You don't know what you're dealing with. I ignored his pleas. It didn't matter how dangerous they were. I wouldn't let them take Alice.

How did you even get involved with them? I was just travelling through town. Someone said they needed a lawyer and that I could help the ageing population of the town. I took my kid with me on a weekend trip to do some business. They took her, they took Amanda. I couldn't help but sympathised with Riley. But whatever compassion my heart held for him,

it had been tainted with hatred for bringing us here. His willingness to sacrifice myself and Alex, even if it was for his own daughter, could not be forgiven. We'll get her back, I said, trying to sound compassionate, but coming across as a noise. He almost seemed to relax at the statement, as if his fear had broken to be replaced with trust. He kept driving out of town, only passing by the occasional acolyte staring us down as we drove by. They didn't try to stop us, whether it is because they couldn't, or they didn't need to. Neither of us knew, but the fact alone sent shivers down my spine. Before long we arrived

at Glover Road, the only stretch of concrete that led away from Tenebrus. It stretched on for a hundred miles before reaching the main road. There were a few small towns along the way, but even they were about 60 miles out. Where are they exactly? Riley asked. But I didn't have to answer, because a pillar of smoke was emerging from just beyond the horizon. I knew it was the car, a suspicion that would be immediately confirmed as we found the still burning wreckage of Dawson's flipped over for troll car. The sheriff himself lay on the side, covered in blood and not moving, and Alex was nowhere in sight. Stop the car, I yelled. Riley hit the brakes, and I basically dove out, rushing over towards the wreck. Sheriff, I called out, but he remained unresponsive.

I took a brief moment to look through the wreckage, just checking if Alex had been trapped inside. It was empty. Whoever had caused the accident had done it with the intention of taking Alex away, and they'd succeeded. Is he? Riley asked as he pointed to Dawson. His body was broken, covered in gashes and bruised flesh from the impact. I bent down carefully, afraid to confirm his death. "'Morgan?' I said meekly as I gently shook him.

Then he opened his eyes and gasped for air, trying to get up in panic as adrenaline surged through his body. "'He's breathing,' I exclaimed in relief. After a couple of seconds of observing his surroundings, he finally tried to talk. "'Oh, where are I?' he groaned. "'Glover rode. "'You were in an accident,' I said.

He looked at me, studying me as if he couldn't recognise me. His head had a large gash on the side, still actively bleeding. Laura? Yeah, it's me. What happened to you? Where's Alex? I don't know. Apart from the lacerations and bruises, he didn't seem to have any broken bones.

It was almost a miracle considering how Mango the car was. Once he'd regained his senses, I helped Dorsen to his senses. I helped Dawson to his feet and brought him back to Riley's car. John, Dawson said as he noticed Riley's presence. He brought her to me. I just wanted to help, Sheriff. Did you manage to call for help? I asked Dawson.

He looked at me, confused without the faintest idea what I was talking about. He just rubbed his head. I don't know. Even if help was on the way, he would take hours for them to cross. the rough roads from even the nearest city. It'd be time we didn't have, so we got in the car and started driving back towards Tenebrose. Riley, you said they'd take the children to the basement. Yeah, but I don't know if that's where they took your son.

I turned to Dawson, who was sitting motionless in his seat, just observing the world outside the window. He was still in a haze from the crash, and able to contribute much to the discussion. sheriff what do you think there were no children what he didn't respond we continued the drive in silence a million thoughts and ideas ran through my mind but all of them would either result in our death or inevitable capture by the acolytes we needed a way to kill them or at least slow them down but they weren't human then my eyes got distrauders by the syringe lying on the dashboard, full of etorfin, enough for just one of the monsters in Tenebrus. Sheriff, do you have more of the sedatives? He gave me a peculiar look.

Etorfin, where do you keep it? I clarified. He mulled it over a bit, trying to remember where he'd acquired the little stash he kept in his car. I'm sorry, my head's not all there yet. "'The drugs are at the station. "'And that's where we need to go.

"'If we're going to save Alex and your daughter, "'we need something to defend us with. "'It won't help,' Dawson interjected. "'What do you mean?' "'They're too strong. "'Whatever you try to do, they will win.' "'He looked at me as he awaited my response. "'Something was wrong with him.

"'He'd never shown signs of defeat like that before. "'I don't believe. care. I want to save my son even if it kills me. As we returned to town, the emptiness struck me again. By then it would have been impossible for the Acolytes not to know what we were up to, and yet there were nowhere in sight. No one had tried to stop us, and not a single creature had come to even check up on us. Where is everyone? I asked. They already have what they need. You don't matter to them anymore, Dawson said. We pulled up. to the Sheriff's Department parking lot and got out. There were a couple of other patrol cars

there, both unused for years, covered in dried out leaves and dust. The building didn't fare much better, surfing as little more than a reminder of what once stood there. The inside was just as barren, the desks covered in dust, and the papers left behind ancient. It was clear that the department had been shut down years earlier, both by the layer of dirt and the outdated technology left behind. How Dawson had kept up appearances for so long I couldn't fathom but I had to assume that not many

outsiders ever came to visit the station. I'm going to wait outside. Keep the car running and all, Riley said nervously. Dawson didn't even acknowledge him. He just led me into the back room which was a combination of a storage space and an evidence locker.

He took out a box of medical supplies and left the room. Sheriff? Stay here, I need to prepare the solution. I remained behind, looking over the hundreds of untouched files and boxes. On each of them, someone had written a case number and the name of the person involved. I read over each case, realizing I could recognise many of the names. Most were probably trivial, unimportant police reports, but one stood out from the rest.

Case file number 0.019. Agatha Florence, it read. I looked behind me, making sure Dawson was out of sight before pulling out the box and investigating its content. Within lay a single file and a couple of tape recordings. I scanned the room for a playback device. It only had the one, an ancient player covered in dust. But it still worked, producing an oddly nostalgic whirring sound as I turned it on.

I put the tape in and clicked play. The first I was only met by static, the role of tape turned, pulling an audio recording that was more than 20 years old. Then, after a few moments of dead air, her voice came through. 7th of December 1998. This is an interview with Agatha Florence regarding a patient missing from Tenebra's care. It was Dawson's voice, from an interview with my mother. This is Florence. Could you tell me exactly what happened?

Mrs. Florence, really? Come on, Morgan, we're friends. You don't have to act all professional just because you're the sheriff. He sighed. All right, Aggie. What exactly happened? She paused for a moment. Do we really have to record this?

Yeah, I'm sorry, but it's protocol. Everything needs to be documented. Fine. So, tell me, who went missing? Jonathan Henderson, he just, he wasn't in his bed yesterday. It's not abnormal for patients suffering from dementia to try and leave, but well, he's one of the patients that came back from death. He's one of the resurrected.

Yeah, they've all been acting strange. They don't seem like themselves. I mean, it's not like they're sick anymore. Not that they have any neurological damage. We usually send them home, but Mr. Henderson was different. He was talking to himself, crying during the night. He scared the other patients, so we were going to have to have him transferred. When was he supposed to be transferred?

Well, the day after he vanished. At first we thought someone had initiated the transfer early, but there was no documentation regarding any pickup. So, you think he left without being noticed, on his own? No, I think... I think he was taken. By who? I don't know.

How many resurrections have you seen at Tenebrus care so far? 23. You have no idea what causes them. Well, she hesitated. No, I don't know. The interview was replaced by static and the tape ended. I picked up the paper which described the same case in detail, including the events that led to Mr.

Henderson's death and his miraculous resurrection. But something else was written there. The story I remembered myself, because I took part in it. Both of January 1999. Sheriff Morgan Dawson was called into Tenebra's care alongside Officer Tyler Jenkins due to alleged assault taking place in the basement of Tenebra's care. The first victim was a 39-year-old woman by the name of Agatha Florence, who suffered a laceration to her right temple.

The second victim was a six-year-old girl by the name of Laura Florence, who sustained a fractured radius. The salient was described as 78-year-old Jonathan Henderson, who had been missing prior to the incident since the 7th of December, 1998. He hasn't been seen since the alleged assault. That was the nightmare that had been haunting me for the past months. The memory I'd been told was a lie, but now I had proof. Then I put the second tape recording in and started listening. Sixth of January, 1999. Interview with a victim of assault taking place on the 4th of January.

Agatha Florence, Dawson said. Agi, you don't have to do this if you're not up for it. I need to. I saw him. It was Mr. Henderson. But it wasn't him. What do you mean? somebody was using his body he couldn't resist but aggie you're not making any sense before i could keep listening to the conversation i was interrupted by dawson returning to the evidence locker i jumped as he suddenly stood behind me

you're not supposed to be going through these files sheriff sorry you scared me what are you doing i'm just trying to figure out about my mother she might have the the answers we need to stop these things. Agatha was a talented woman, but she never figured out how to stop them. How do you know that? The words froze in my throat, as I realized just what was going on. You never call her that. You always called her Aggie. He didn't respond. He just stood there and stared at me expectantly. Where are the sedatives, I asked, knowing exactly. exactly what he'd done. We're not going to need those. I slowly started backing away from Dawson,

knowing full well I had nowhere to run. I still had one syringe full of a torfine in my pockets, but I knew he'd be ready for it. Riley, I called out. He can't hear you. What did you do? What happened to Morgan? Oh, the poor man broke his neck on impact, but it didn't stop the pain he experienced as his body stopped working.

But that was not what truly broke him. What hurt the most was the guilt he felt for allowing you to enter Tenebrance. One touch of your hand was all I needed to enter his body from the realm of O'Raleigh. He pointed to his neck and pushed it to reveal how unhinged it had truly gotten following the crash. He's gone. Parts of him still linger, but not for long. He took a step closer, which point I had no choice but to pull out the syringe. I tried to hit his jugular, but Dawson was too fast.

He grabbed my arm and pushed it against the wall. The sedative got knocked onto the floor, and he started pulling me towards the exits. Once we got to the door, I could see two more acolytes holding on to Riley by the car, as a third one stood in front of him. "'Please, I did everything you asked me to do,' he pleaded. But they didn't respond. They just stared at him with their empty eyes. "'You promised to give my daughter back. I did what you wanted. Please, let us go.' "'You did exactly what we needed,' one of them said.

"'You've served your purpose.' And with that the skin on the Acolyte's arm started cracking, allowing dark flesh to ooze out, forming an obsidian black mesh of meat on the outside. Pieces of human muscle, fattened skin, started dropping, creating sickly squishes as they hit the ground. The black appendage that had been formed was covered in white vein-like structures, with rough bone covering them.

Oh, please, oh God, no! Riley yelled. But his helpless pleas brought him nothing. The acolyte shoved its limb into Riley's abdomen allowing the dark meat to enter his carities, tearing him apart from the inside. He screamed in a mixture of horror and agony as his internal organs were shredded to pieces. There was nothing he could do. His body was ruined beyond repair, but he still remained conscious.

For a minute the acolyte just held him upright, waiting for Riley to finally stop breathing. Once the life had finally left his eyes, he was tossed onto the ground. I couldn't even scream. I just stood there and stared at Riley's corpse. Dawson let go of my arm and I just glanced at the ground in shock. The acolyte that had killed him started falling apart. Chunks of his facade fell off, revealing a dark figure underneath, covered in exposed, rotten muscle.

That was their true form, and now they had everything they wanted. They could finally shed their human vessel. Dawson stood above me, expecting me to fight back, but it would have been a futile task. It's time for you to come with us, he said. You still have a chance to live. Part 8 of the basement. Dawson gestured for the other acolytes to come inside, ready to take me away for the last time. As astronomically small as my chances were, I had to take action.

I dove for the last syringe still resting on the floor, grabbed it and slammed it into Dawson's leg with absolute precision. He let out a brief groan of anger and grabbed onto me. Fidenberg will not save your son. But the injection had already begun to work, and Dawson was quickly losing control of his captured body. As he fell to his knees, I rushed to barricade the front door, just in time to block the other acolytes out. It wouldn't slow them down too much, but it'd buy me enough time to stock up on whatever weapons they still kept inside the armour. It was situated directly next to the evidence room, only accessible with a key struck

to Dawson's keychain. Once he'd finally lost consciousness, I took off his belt and rushed to pile up on weapons. They didn't have much more than a few shotguns and about a dozen pistols, but it would have to suffice. Even with my limited knowledge and firearms, I knew enough to pull the trigger and reload. A lesson learned through hunting with my grandfather. I loaded the shotgun first and returned to the entrance hall, where the Acolytes were halfway through my barricade.

Dawson lay in front of them, unconscious on the ground. I wanted to fire a slug into his head, but I couldn't bring myself to destroy his body, still not sure whether it would kill the Acolyte inside. instead I aim for the ones breaking through the door the first shot it hit one square in the head it fell backwards onto the street outside still wriggling as it tried to regain its senses

still the second one managed to break through I shot him in the middle of his torso well it hardly seemed to slow him down but it allowed me to get off another shot which hit him in the head there didn't seem to be any organs beneath their flesh only solid black matter holding on to a viscous, murky fluid.

While the Acolytes tried to get back on their feet, I made a run for Riley's car. His corpse still lay on the ground in front of it, but I didn't dare move it away in fear that I might bring other Acolytes into our walls. As I drove away, I saw the mangled remains of the Acolyte crawl over to Riley's body. It started consuming his flesh in an attempt at rebuilding itself.

Chunks of the corpse's flesh turned dark, and the acolyte just put it on himself. They truly were parasites, unable to sustain their own lives without human hosts. My destination was still to nebrous care, the place where it had all started and where it might hopefully end. The streets still remained empty,

even outside of the hospice care. I parked the car on the side of the road, sprinted inside with a shotgun in hand, but immediately I halted. as I found Mrs. Crawford in size. Laura, you're making a mistake. I pointed the shotgun at her face, but she didn't even flinch at the notion.

Where's Alex? In the basement, she stated, matter of family, he's being prepared. For what? He's a very special boy, more so than both of yourself and your mother. I took a step closer, getting in range for a perfect headshot.

You're not using him. I'm going to fucking stop you. Why? Think Laura. Imagine what this broken world could become if the acolytes were in control. This place was never meant for you. Your species is but a pest

that has brought nothing but destruction along its path. As opposed to you? You need to read the world of this plague first. Sometimes you need to burn a place. down before you can rebel. I'd had enough of her distractions. I'm going to the basement and you're not stopping me. I tried to say as confidently as possible.

Why would I stop you? Then I heard the door open behind me. I spun around and pointed the weapon at the intruder. They just stood there, not even attempting to stop me. Go ahead, Mrs. Crawford says. Go to your son. It was a trap. I knew that much. But even if going to the basement would kill me, it'd be worth it if it gave Alex even the faintest chance at life. I started running, briefly checking behind me to see if the acolytes were giving chase. But they just watched me flee. I ran and didn't stop until I reached the heavy metal doors guarding the basement. It was silent on the other side, not even a whisper to fill the empty air. I opened the doors and pulled out my flashlight.

The place hadn't changed in the slightest since the last time I'd set foot inside. I took a deep breath and locked the basement door behind me, plunging me into blinding darkness. Even with the flashlight, my surroundings remained obscured, as if the surfaces flat out rejected the light. As I descended the staircase, the air turned thick, and I could hear the sound of setting metal, as if something was twisting around inside the pipes.

The hallway itself remained the same, long concrete walls lined with doors on each side, rid of any source of lights. As a child I'd been much shorter, giving the illusion of a large space when in reality it was quite narrow. I hadn't even noticed the fact that each door was decorated with small windows, too high up for a child to reach.

Any of them could have contained Alex, but Riley's daughter still remained another priority. If she really was there, I couldn't let her die alone, not after the promise I'd given Riley. I took a look through the first window, which revealed little more than an empty room. Then I moved on to the seconds. There I found an old man chained to her bed.

These lower extremities were fused with a dark mesh that stretched towards the back wall, pulsating as it seemed to feed off him. The man was clearly still alive, breathing but luckily not conscious. I gave the handle to try, but the door was locked in place. I couldn't help him. But I couldn't linger either. I had to move on.

The next room held a pile of the same dark flesh. The only resemblance of a human being I could find was an eye and a patch of skin still visible. The dark flesh looked similar to what I'd seen on the Acolytes. but it carried no humanoid features, just an amorphous, disgusting blob. Each and every room carried a similar view until I got about halfway through. I shone my light through the door to find a young girl sitting against one of the walls, looking absolutely horrified. She jumped to her feet as soon as she noticed my light, and ran over to the window.

She screamed something unintelligible, the sound stopped by the thick glass in the door. She maw. Then I noticed the wall she'd been staring it. It was covered in flesh, just like the mass that had been consuming the other people in the cells. The girl had to be Amanda, and she couldn't have been older than twelve. The flesh on the wall was pulsating, with small tendrils reaching out for her. It seemed to be growing, and it wanted to catch her. Still, I had no means with which to open the door.

I'm sorry, I'll come back for you, I'd try to say as clearly as possible. No sound could get through the door, but I prayed that she understood me. Then I just left her, and I could hear the vague sound of her banging on the door. I redirected my flashlight towards the end of the long hallway. When I realized something, there was a source of light, other than my own, coming from the very last room. A faint glimmer of hope lit up inside me, and I could almost feel Alex's presence there. Ignoring the rest of the rooms, I just rushed towards the end, my heart filling with an inexplicable feeling of joy, drowning out the overwhelming dread of the place. Once there I pressed my face up against the glass, finally getting a glimpse of the inside.

What I was faced with stood in stark contrast to the rest of the rooms. It was neatly decorated with colourful walls and hares. happy pictures, filled with toys and furniture that truly wrung in a cozy field. It was a children's room, and in the middle of it sat Alex. He was playing with some building blocks, surrounded by a circle of empty chairs that all faced him. As he tossed around the blocks, he'd intermittently lift his head as if talking to invisible guests sitting on the chairs. Alex, I shouted, but he couldn't hear me. Then, just by chance, he lifted his head in my direction and saw he frantically screaming on the other side but despite the long

awaited reunion he didn't smile at my presence in fact he almost looked afraid he turned his head back at one of the chairs and shook his head in disapproval as a panicked expression washed over his face what he thought he was seeing i don't know but it wasn't anything good glanced over at me for one last time before forcing his head down and continuing to play. You see, he's happy here, a voice said from behind me. I turned around to see Mrs. Crawford standing there. As I'd been calling out for Alex, I hadn't noticed her sneaking up on me.

Alex has a greater purpose than what you could ever dream of. With us, he will achieve great things. Truly magnificent events will occur, all thanks to your son. You stay the fuck away from me, I said as I lifted the shotgun. Do you think that will stop me? I knew it wouldn't. Even if it slowed her down, I wasn't leaving Tenebrus without Alex. A couple of acolytes came down the wall, both of them having shed their human forms.

That was the first time I got to see their faces. They were just empty bricks of flesh, dark with hollow sockets rid of any eyes. Their mouths were constantly hanging open but contained no tongue nor any recognisable piece of anatomy save spikes that hardly resembled teeth due to the gaping holes in their necks there was no way they could produce human speech

which was presumably why they chose to maintain their human form Laura it's time to give up I kept alternating my aim between them all but they hardly cared why did you let me come down here at home so you could see what would happen to Alex and to yourself I dropped the shotgun finally being hit by the undeniable defeat I'd let myself into I turned to Alex watching him one last time through the glass who is he even talking to I asked the fact that you cannot see that is the reason why we do not need you

anymore. I didn't respond. There wasn't any point. You've been so determined to stop us, but now it's time for you to see where we came from, and why we will never go back there. With that, the two acolytes grabbed onto my arms and started dragging me away from Alex. I didn't resist. I just let a few tears roll down as I realized I'd never see him again. All we wished for was a place to live. Our world, The domain we came from was created for suffering. It was a punishment for wanting freedom. Without your lineage, we would have been stuck there forever,

left behind in misery for the rest of eternity. You could have helped us out, but you refused. So, I should just let you take their bodies. They were already dead. What difference does it make what happens to them? She argued. If that were true, why didn't you just ask for her? We wanted to give you time to let the idea sink in before we overwhelmed you with all this information.

You were not ready, Lauren, but your son, Alex, will accept his fate. I looked her in the eyes, trying to find any semblance of a human being within her emotionless façed. They kill Riley, Dawson and countless others, a fact they couldn't deny. Are you going to kill me now, like you did with my mother? your mother's life ended by her own hands no she never wanted this she killed herself to stop you and look where that brought us she paused we will not kill you but you will see exactly where we came from then you will finally understand with that ominous threat they opened the only windowless door in the entire basement and brought me inside it was a storage room full of medical supplies, disinfectants, medications and bandages. All stuff they'd locked away after they found me building makeshift torches from the medical paraffin when I was a child.

Now they were just useless remnants for time long since past. In the back, the walls were covered in the same growing flesh that was consuming the other prisoners. What the hell is that? I asked. Fear surging through my body as I realized just how close my end was. Sooner, it will be you. Then they threw me against the flesh. My skin immediately started to fuse with it, burning as the dark meat started to cover my back, digging its way further into my body.

I could feel it squeeze its way through my ribs, constricting around my lungs. I tried to scream, but I couldn't catch a breath deep enough to produce any audible sounds. I wriggled around in agony, but it had already wrapped itself around. me making it impossible to me then I felt tendrils wrap around my heart squeezing it until it finally stopped beating that was the moment my body died I still remain conscious for long enough to see Mrs Crawford smiling at my demise the first real emotion she'd ever produced I wish things have been different Laura but you made this happen the world around me faded away

and I started falling, far through an infinite void of darkness, an abyss so far away from life that I feared I might never get back. Still, death was not the friend to greet me on the other side because the flesh would never let me perish. It would keep me alive like some twisted life support system, using my body to bring back more of the acolytes. My mind would be the only thing to leave, to be sent far away to the realm of A Raleigh. The Home of the Achaelites. Part 9. The Realm of Arali. The Sumerians of ancient Mesopotamia had their own concept of the underworld.

Rather than fiery pits and endless torture, they believed in a while that closely resembled our own. A twisted copy. Rid of all the joys that exist in real life, a mere shadow of what used to be. There they are destined to live out the rest of its time. eternity until their minds are broken down shells of their former cells. This hell, known as Iqala or Aurali, existed parallel to the real world, with its inhabitants

unable to escape for the rest of time. The acolytes had just thrown me into a mesh of meat, one that had taken over my body and thrown me away from life itself. Still, I hadn't died, I was just trapped in the dark dimension, out of reach to help Alex. Once I'd fallen all the way through the darkness, I felt the acolytes grip loosened around me. With that realization, the darkness gave way to light, and I fell hard onto the ground of the story tree. The flesh that had tried to consume me only moments before had vanished into thin air, and I was left alone in the dark, fumbling around for any source of light.

I dug my mother's old lighter out from my pocket and used its dim light to guide my way. To the best of my knowledge, I was still in the hot. hospice care, but the atmosphere felt all too foreign as if I'd traveled a thousand miles away. Once the initial shock had faded, I realized that I still couldn't breathe. Despite being freed, I could still feel the flesh constrict around my dead heart and broken lungs. Still, my body just refused to die. I tried to call out for help, but without air in my body, I couldn't produce a single sound. I stumbled into the hallway, listening in intently to my surroundings.

But it was dead silent, as if the place had been abandoned in the short span I was unconscious. I decided to check out Alex's room, which was as empty as the rest of the hallway. All that had been left behind were dried out, broken furniture and a few dusty toys. It looked like the place had been abandoned for years. Just sat there in disbelief, not fully understanding what was going on, nor what had happened to me. I sobbed silently, tears rolling down my cheeks without producing an audible cry. Then I went on to check the other rooms, but they were all gone. Poor people kept in the basement, Riley's daughter, Alex, everything.

The world was empty, and I had been alone to suffer in a broken body. With no other options left, I decided to leave the basement, not caring if the acolytes found me, not worrying about capture. in a way I felt anodonic like the world was stealing my emotions the only thing that kept me going was the ever-failing hope that Alex still might have a chance the rest of tenebrous care didn't fare much better the entire facility was covered in dust dirt and debris forgotten by time itself what had once been the last station of life had now been the beginning of something else something dark and unexplained I walked around the hallways, heading aimlessly for the exits. Where I planned to go, I didn't know, nor did I have any fighting spirit left to resist whatever horrors awaited me outside. But despite being helpless, there was nothing left to stop me.

On the outside the streets looked the same, albeit more, run down and dirty. The buildings were still there, though, on the brink of clats. Then I saw another person walking down the road. It was a sickly emaciated, naysiated, nays. naked figure I couldn't recognize. The ribs protruded prominently from their chest, and their arms hung limp to their side. They didn't even seem to notice my presence. They just slowly wandered by, not giving me a single thought.

I went over to check if they needed help, but they kept ignoring my presence even as I attempted to shake them. The world I had entered was all too familiar, and yet I knew it wasn't the same. I'd been tossed into the realm of the acolyte. A prison meant for the fallen angels of a bygone era But now they were mostly freed Brought to our world by my mother, by myself and Alex I started heading for the police station

Didn't have a particular purpose in mind Apart from checking if the tapes were still there If I could find any source of hell It wasn't even far but each step I took felt warped As if an eternity passed for each passing foot Then I saw the state of the state of the state of looking just as run down as I'd left it. Riley's corpse was still there, lying in the same spot he died.

The hole in his abdomen was ever present, and his cavity had been hollowed out where the acolyte had dug around. I walked over, intending to finally bury his body. But then I noticed something that stopped me dead in my tracks. He was still alive. His eyes moved in my direction, and he looked up at me. "'La!' he groaned quietly in agony. I couldn't respond to him.

My lungs still wouldn't function. Instead, I just put a hand on his shoulder in a hopeless attempt at comforting him. "'What's happening to me? Why am I not dead? Why can't I move?' His spine had been snapped in half by the acolyte, and he had indeed died. The world we'd both entered didn't grant us new bodies. It just brought our consciousness with it,

forcing us to experience the exact same suffering that had killed us. But I wasn't like him. My body was still alive, albeit trapped in another dimension. Did they get to you too? He asked. I nodded. It's been so long since I last saw you. I hoped you'd gotten away.

Every scrape on his body had accompanied him to the afterlife, and there was nothing I could do to help him. My daughter, did you? you find her Riley asked again I just nodded is she is she alive I smiled reassuring me I wanted so desperately to talk to him to let him know she was unharmed it would be a partial lie because though she hadn't yet died there was no one there left to save her that's good that's good I hope she gets out I hope they don't hurt with that confirmation Riley just started staring in front of himself, as if he no longer realised I was by his side.

His body wasn't gone, but his mind no longer needed to be there. He'd learned what he'd needed, that his daughter hadn't suffered the same horrible fate as himself. For a while I'd just sat by his side, waiting to see if he'd regain lucidity, but he never did. Like the emaciated figure I'd met earlier, he was far too far gone to even function. hours passed feeling twisted and wrong before i decided to keep moving i entered the abandoned sheriff's department only to find everything gone what was left behind was little more than broken furniture and dirt that used to be papers it had become apparent that time moved differently in this dimension which meant that everything i needed was already gone defeated and without an ounce of hope i started heading for my child at home

We didn't have a goal in mind I just wanted some semblance of familiarity A place I could wait out Until time destroyed me like it had rightly A place I could finally give up On the way I saw more emaciated figures They were all heading in the same direction out of town It dawned on me that these were the lucky ones

The people who died within a function to move around I could only guess how many poor souls were stuck somewhere else unable to move, incapable of understanding what was going on around them, trapped within their own bodies for all of eternity. I wondered how long it would take before my mind would give in to the idea, before I faded away like the others. Then I thought about where they were heading to, if it was anything more than the mere human instinct to keep going, even with no destination in mind. Their bodies wouldn't let them just give up, taken over by autopilot in a last ditch attempt, survival. But among the crowd I noticed a tall figure tower above them. It was an acolyte, slowly moving among them, observing them. It went from person to person before finally reaching

its hand out towards one of them. It penetrated his chest and slammed him to the ground. There it started converting the human flesh to its own, patching itself up as it did. I docked out of sight, watching the acolyte from afar. It seemed to need to need it. It seemed to need, the other people to sustain itself but it was so much slower than the ones i seen back in the real world the place i've been trapped in wasn't just hell for us but for them as well once the acolyte had finished consuming the poor man it kept moving walking in the same direction as the others i walked on intent on reaching my child at home but for each step i took i felt the emotion drain from me my worry about alex my shame for being captured

It was all fading, replaced slowly by unrelenting and hedonia. Then I arrived at my mother's old house. It seemed almost untouched, as broken down as the last time I'd set foot inside, but still the same. Somehow it felt more lived in than the rest of the horrific world around me. I opened the old door, almost comforted by the familiar creaks it produced. It wasn't as dusty as I'd expected. In fact, it seemed cleaner than the house I'd spent the last couple of days. I entered the kitchen where I found the first piece of intact furniture, just a wooden table and a

couple of chairs. Laura, I heard a voice say from behind me. It was my mother, 20 years older than the last time I'd seen her, but just as human. Her hair had greyed and her skin had formed wrinkles from a lifetime of stress. I just stood there, frozen from the shock of seeing the woman who had abandoned me, so many years ago. Even though I knew that she only meant to protect me, the resentment lingered without logical reasoning.

I tried to speak up, temporarily forgetting that my lungs weren't working. Don't try to talk. You're not going to be able to. Just sit down because I need to tell you something. She sounded nervous and her speech felt rehearsed. I wasn't sure how long she'd been waiting there, but it felt as if she'd been expecting me for quite some time.

still I obliged and sat down by the kitchen table I glanced at her arms noticing deep gashes on her wrists that had been slit when she committed suicide I pointed to them hoping she'd understand what I was trying to ask but don't worry it doesn't hurt anymore then I pointed to my own heart

in an attempt at asking her if I died or if I was trapped in some other kind of nightmare you're not dead they'd never kill you but your body is trapped in a dormant state, forcing your mind here. She looked at me for a moment, just inspecting me. You're so beautiful, you know that. You can't imagine how proud I am of you.

I'm so unbelievably sorry that I couldn't be with you as you grew up. I hope you know that I only meant to protect you, but even through my efforts I could only keep you safe for so long. Tears were forming in my eyes, both from frustration at not being able to talk and from being overwhelmed by seeing my mother for the first time since I was a child. I knew in my broken heart that she was dead

but it didn't diminish the experience in the slightest. Laura, we don't have much time, so you need to focus. She just stared at me until I finally nodded in agreement. You fused with their flesh, which means it's a part of you. It's inside your body, but you can control it if you focus. the more time you spend here the more you'll fuse with the flesh of the acolyse until there's nothing left but unrecognizable pieces of you inside laura you need to go back to the hospice you need to be as close to the flesh as possible when you return i looked at her in disbelief too afraid of the uncoming fight even if i could return and free myself from the flesh i didn't have the faintest clue on how to escape nor did i want to leave my mother behind

seeing her for the first time in so long only to leave her hours later was a heartbreaking task I pointed at her trying to get her to come with me I can't Laura my body's already gone and my spirit's fading the only reason I've held on for so long is because I was afraid you'd end up here by my side now that I finally see you again there's no doubt in my heart that you'll make it out of to nebris alive but you have to leave as soon as possible I nodded heart half-heartedly in agreement, and we both stood up. That was the first time I saw how frail my mother had truly become, a very different image compared to the woman I'd known as a child. Each step she took was a struggle, and though she wouldn't admit it, I could tell her a slit wrist

still hurt. She led me to the door, and it opened up. I was ready to leave, but first I just embraced her in a hug. Her arms around me was the first thing to make me feel truly safe, in the past 20 years, a feeling I had long since forgotten existed. I love you, Laura. I wish things had been different. I had so many questions to ask, who my father was, how he ended with these curses as Nephilim's, but I couldn't form the words to ask. But though I couldn't utter a single word, the look on my face said enough. I know, I know, but now it's time to go.

Say hello to my grandson for me, and tell him I'll always be watching over him. With those parting words, she closed the door behind me. I started walking back towards Tenebrus care. When I glanced back at the house, it seemed all too empty. A light had been extinguished, one that belonged to my mother's soul. On my way back, I passed several more of the empty people, all of them heading out of town into the wilderness beyond Tenebrus. whether they'd find peace there

or if they'd simply wandered on forever I didn't know DeNabrous care had always been a place for death but after my mother's curse came to life it had been hailed as a place for life to me it was both and once I returned I still didn't know

exactly how to escape the oncoming storm of death the basement door still stood open untouched since I'd exited I hesitated as I stood before it peeking into the darkness below I was worried, not for my own safety, but that I might fail again to doom Alex to an imprisoned life, to be used as a puppet by the Acolytes. I held my mother Zippo lighter in front of me and made my way back to the storage room. Once there I placed myself in the middle and started focusing.

As my mother had said, I'd just let my body feel all the pain I've been repressing, and before long I felt the flesh move inside my chest. I felt the holes in my back, the constriction around my heart. The more I let the pain sink in, the more I felt myself awakening once more. Then I felt my arms pinned down, my body trapped. I couldn't move anymore, I could just barely wriggle myself around. I closed my eyes tightly, and once I opened them again, I was back in the real world, with my body fused to the flesh of the acolytes. It was inside my body, forcing its way around each and every one of my own.

organs, but I could control them, just weakly at first, silenced them for a second or two at the time. But as time went on, my influence over them got stronger. I could feel it slip away, slithering away just enough for me to control my arms. While I couldn't rip myself from the wall, I could fumble around in my pockets. I pulled out my mother's lighter, not exactly sure how I'd escape my torture. then my eyes drifted towards the isopropyl alcohol and all the things that have been moved into the abandoned storage I wriggled my foot around just enough to knock over one of the containers causing alcohol to spill out all over the floor then as the tendrils started to gain control again digging back into my flesh I let go over the lit lighter

it wasn't a well-thought-out plan but in the immense amount of agony that I was feeling I really didn't have any other choice. The fire ignited the alcohol and started climbing the flesh within seconds. I just prayed that it would let go before I burned to death. I didn't have to weigh along, because no sooner had the fire eaten the bottom of the flesh before it started retracting into the wall, escaping the oncoming heat.

I fell to the ground, knocking the air out of me as I did. I lay there for a second, almost suffocating from the smoke filling the room. I was freed, but I only had minutes to escape, before the rest of the containers caught fire, which would inevitably blow up the entire basement. Part 10. What we leave behind. The flesh stood ablaze, producing a high-pitched screech as the fire spread. Pieces of it reached out, desperately trying to grab onto me, but I was too far out of reach.

I just stared at the dire monstrosity, glad to finally be. breathe again. But I had lit a fuse and very soon the entire basement will be blown to Kingdom Come. I needed to hurry to get Alex out from the basement before it was too late. But despite my rush the smoke had already started to pour into the hallway. It quickly set off the security system causing a blaring alarm to echo through the darkness. Each and every door opened in response, allowing the subjects to escape. Alex, I coughed. out as I ran to his room. He was still sitting in the middle of the room, panicked by the sudden sound ringing through it.

He looked pale as a sheet, as if something had drained the energy from his body. On the chairs surrounding him, I could barely make out vague shapes, resembling the twisted figures of the acolytes. They were draining Alex, using his body to cross over to our world. To Alex, they'd look like children. I could see their facades. but as they got closer to our world their true forms finally revealed themselves

without hesitating I ran over and snagged him away from the shadows hoping to shield him from the horrific entities in the room he hung limply in my arms barely conscious enough to notice my presence leave him alone I yelled my call snapped Alex back to reality but he was still too weak to stand up on his own I tried to carry him but my legs glad to clap under the pressure. It was only then I realized just how wounded I'd been by the flesh.

I saw you, Alex mumbled. You saw me where? You were in the other place, with the children. I almost cried just from having him in my arms, but my concern outweighed the joy. They weren't children, Alex, but it doesn't matter, we need to get out of him. I come so close to understanding the curse thrust upon myself. for my mother, but Alex was something different. He had abilities I couldn't even begin to comprehend and the acolytes were fully intent

on using them to cross over worlds. Mom, you're bleeding, Alex said as he lay in my arms. He was right. My entire back was soaked in blood from where the flesh had fused. I'd lost a good amount of it, but I couldn't tell whether or not it was still actively

bleeding. I'm fine, but we have to go, Alex. I ordered. I grabbed him and carried him into the hallway. We still had to get Riley's daughter to safety, and she was a couple of rooms further down. I groaned as I ran, feeling the skin on my back tear with each step. But as I got to Amanda's door, I realised it was still closed.

Amanda! I screamed as I hammered on the door, but without my flashlight I couldn't see very far in. That's when I realized that the glass was covered in the flesh. It had grown across the door, preventing it from opening, and Amanda was still trapped inside. I banged on the door, desperately trying to open it as Alex hung around my neck, but it was a futile task. Even without him, I was too weak to help. She was gone, and I'd broken my promise to save her. Before I got a chance to come up with another plan, I heard the basement door slam open.

The acolytes were coming into the basement, and there was no way we could get past the room. them without weapons. Still, the thought of the inevitable explosion lingered in my mind. I knew it would only be a matter of minutes before the containers exploded. So, I carried Alex back to his room and closed the door as he awaited the bang. Then, a brief but exceptionally loud bang rang through the room before the entire building shook. The lights in Alex's room all shattered, causing shards of glass to rain down upon us. Simultaneously the door broke off its hinges and dust filled the air,

making it impossible to get a proper breath of air. All the while I held onto my son just making sure the falling debris wouldn't hurt him. Once the room had finally stopped moving, I took the chance to open my eyes. Cracks had formed in the walls, from which dust poured out. I let out a few brutal cops,

glaring my lungs from dust. Alex was left pretty much unscathed, while I'd taken a few hits from various debris falling from the ceiling. The only source of light we had was small fires scattered around the basement. We have to go, Alex, I coughed out. He was still too weak to walk alone, so I had to carry him in my arms as we entered the hallway. There, beneath the rubble, lay a few of the acolytes, blown to bits by the explosion. Their flesh still wriggled, trying to reform itself. It had bought us some time, but more of the monsters would soon approach.

As we walked past the room that had exploded, I took a glance inside. The wall had been annihilated beyond repair, revealing a tunnel that led deeper into the ground. I quickly realized it was part of the interconnected sewer systems, and just might have been our only chance of escape. Still, the smell that hit me as I took it. even a single step inside almost made me turn around. It wasn't just the smell of sewage and shit, but something darker, more sinister.

I don't want to go in there, Alex cried. I know, honey, but we don't have a choice. There were a few pieces of burning debris, some wood and chunks of charred flesh. Without a flashlight to guide the way, I had to improvise. I picked up a piece of wood, wrapped it in some cloth, and some medical paraffin that had just about survived.

the explosion. It was enough to make a makeshift torch, similar to the ones I'd played around with as a kid, but it wouldn't last long. I shuddered at the thought of being blind in the sewers, but it beat the idea of being used by the acolytes. Alex had always been a small child, even for his age, so while carrying him around wasn't a tremendously difficult task. It did strain my wounds. He held his arms around my neck, as I led the way with the torch. The light danced off the walls And reflected brightly In the murky waters full of piss

I tried my best not to inhale through my nose But every now and then I get a whiff What truly horrified me Was the odd presence of rot As if something had died down there But I couldn't figure out what it was Then I saw it An almost fossilised corpse

Floating in the sewage Its meat stripped from the bones but that was just the tip of the iceberg. The corpse had come from a pile of death lying just down the sewer. Dozens of corpses lay there in various stages of decomposition. They must have been the bodies the acolytes couldn't use or the remnants of the parts they'd shred it.

No burial, nor dignity. Just a pile of death that served as a vague reminder of who the people had used to be. Close your eyes, Alex. Why? Just do it. his face was resting on my shoulder but I still wanted to keep as many horrors away from his sensitive mind as possible I slowly walked over to the pile horrified that I actually had to step on the dead to cross

oh I'm so sorry I mumbled to myself and then one of them moved their hand reached out for me they were still alive and that's when I realized that beneath the pile of people lay a mesh of acolyte flesh. It was forcefully keeping them alive, serving as a horrific life support system, similar to the one that had sent me to the other world. But the people within were still partially conscious, suffering within the flesh of the acolytes. I couldn't help them. They were too far gone, digested and broken down into an indistinguishable form. I lowered my torch, letting them ignite. I knew it would hurt them, but burning to death would be a preferable fate compared to the eternity they'd otherwise have to endure. As the fire spread across the suffering bodies,

I turned to walk away, though still conscious enough to feel the pain, sobbed, letting out a few last gas of air before finally getting their final rest. Then we walked, and the sewers were lit up by fire. There are a few inaccessible manholes above, letting the smoke escape without suffocating us, but we still moved fast to avoid the heat. The further we got away from the basement of Tenebra's care, the more Alex started to regain his strength. Before long he was able to walk by himself, albeit guided by my hand. I, on the other hand, kept getting weaker as blood flowed from my wounds. I had no means to patch myself up, which meant time, would eventually run out if I didn't get any help.

We walked through the maze of tunnels, desperately looking for a ladder to climb out. It'd be another mile before we finally found an exit, which was little more than a rusty ladder that might just crumble as we touched it. While Alex had regained a lot of his strength, he was in no condition to climb out. I let him cling on to my back as I started the ascent. Blood had been running down my arm from my shoulder, covering my hand. in a slippery mess. I tried to wipe it on my shirt, but it barely removed any of it. I just held on for dear life, praying that I wouldn't slip and break my back. Once at the top, I pushed at the

manhole cover, but it wouldn't budge. I kept banging at it, too weak to make the climb if I had to return back down. On the fifth and final push I had left in my body, it finally moved, loosening just enough to lift up. Daylight shone on my face for the first time in what felt like years, and I escaped with Alex still clinging to my back. I pushed us both out, letting Alex loose before I collapsed to the ground in exhaustion. As I lay there, I tried to look around at my surroundings, hoping to get bearings. As fate would have it, we were in my old neighbourhood, just a few houses down from my childhood home. Mom, get up. Alex begged, but I was too weak. I needed to rest.

The street was situated on the outskirts of town, leading up to the only road out of it, but without a car, it would be a futile task to escape. The acolytes would surely find us before we could escape, and I knew then it had all been for naught. Alex, you have to go, I said. Go where? The road. You just have to follow it until you can find help what about you I can't I'm too weak no Alex my words were interrupted as I heard police sirens coming down the road I turn my direction towards a sound to see a single patrol car coming into Tenebrus from outside of town they'd see me lying on

the ground and came rushing towards us at first I couldn't believe it but then it dawned on me that they must have been the office as Dawson had called before he died. Two police officers jumped out of the car and came rushing to my aid. Miss, are you all right? One of them asked before noticing just how much blood I was soaked in. Oh God, we've got to get her out of here, he said to the other. They bent down to check on me, making sure I was still conscious. Miss, I'm Officer Roberts and this is my partner, Officer Lawrence. We're going to get you out of here, all right. I could barely speak out of shock. I just just let them lift me up and carry me towards their car.

On the way, I heard them talk to each other in a bit of confusion. Do you know where the nearest hospital is? Roberts asked. No one, I can't get a hold of anyone on the radio, Lawrence responded. They put the two of us in the car and, for the first time, I started to feel safe enough to relax. Things were getting dark around me, and I was just on the brink of losing consciousness. But then I heard the office's talk. Um, Denebra's care seems to be the closest facility. They might have medical supplies while we wait to get proper help, Lawrence suggested.

No, I called out. Too weak for them to hear. Alex tried to get their attention, but the officers seemed too scared to listen. Don't take us there. We need to leave, I said again, just loud enough for Roberts to hear me. What was that? he asked. It's dangerous. We need to get out of town, please. what's dangerous the acolytes please don't take us back he looked concerned

but equally confused miss you're in shock we need to get you some help robert said hey there's someone there laureate shouted hey sir could you help us for a moment

I peaked out of the window to see one of the humanoid acolytes come close they'd already found us "'Stay away from him,' I called out weakly. "'He's not human.' "'What?' "'But it was too late.

"'The acolyte had reached Lawrence. "'Without further hesitation, it reached out its arm, "'punching it through Lawrence's abdomen, "'instantly crushing his internal organs. "'With that, he started to shed his flesh, "'revealing his true form "'as Lawrence's guts fell onto the ground below. "'Robberts was in shock.

but trained enough to act fast. He pulled his weapon and aimed it at the transforming acolyte. Stop right there. But the acolyte didn't listen. He just slowly approached Roberts, almost as if enjoying the suffering it was about to cause. To them this wasn't much more than the game, one they fought for sure they could win.

Ron, we have to get out of here, I called from the car, but Roberts wouldn't listen. He was too concerned with his rapidly done, dying partner, not realizing he stood no chance. He fired a few rounds at the acolyte, but it hardly slowed down. What the hell are you? he stuttered. As the acolyte reached out to kill Roberts, I knew there was nothing I could do for them. So with the final bit of my energy, I crawled from the backseat into the driver's seat. The keys were still in the ignition, and with Robert screaming in agony, I started to drive away. I swerved down the road.

desperately trying to get away and while the acolytes were fast there was no way they could catch up with a speeding cut we drove onto Glover Road ready to finally leave to Nebris for good still there was no way I could make the several hour long trip to the next town over I needed to call for help but how far I had to drive before I could finally get a signal I didn't know the car came equipped with a radio which meant we could reach someone even without a phone. As we got an hour out of town, the radio finally scurried to life,

producing indistinct chatter. Without hesitating, I grabbed it, ready to transmit my own call for help. Hello, is there anyone there? Please, we need help. Who is this? How did you get on this line? My name is Laura Florence.

I'm injured and I'm on Glover Road 50 miles outside of Tenebras. Please, we need help. we're on our way please stay on the but with that the connection died I was starting to lose control

of the car so I just had to stop it no longer mattered they had heard the distress call we're going to be all right Alex they're coming to save us well the last words I said as the world around me went dark as I sat unconscious in the car

I felt a sense of peace wash over me all the pain and misery I felt only moments earlier had vanished. In a way, it was as if I died. I just existed in the endless void, feeling nothing but bliss. The acolytes, the injuries, the dangers, nothing mattered. A dim light appeared in the distance, and time merged together as a single moment where everything happened all at once.

Then I fell a jolt, and I suddenly awoke once more. Mrs. Florence, are you there? A voice softly called out. I opened my eyes and realized I was lying in a comfortable hospital bed. Everything around me seemed so clean, so calm. I'd been saved. We thought we'd lost you for a second, but you're a fighter. It was a doctor standing before me, holding on to a chart.

Where am I? Mercy Hospital. You got airlifted here for surgery. You suffered from shock and a punctured lung. It's a miracle you got as far as you did. You asked the fact that I was out of Tenebrus was victory enough. The surgery, the pain I was in. None of it mattered because weed managed to escape.

Can I see my son? I asked. The doctor looked confused. Yeah, do you have a number we can call or something? Does he live around here? No, he was with me. He's just a boy. Where is he?

I asked, getting nervous. Miss, you were alone when we found you. It's in the middle of nowhere. There's no way anyone could have walked away from that. No, no, no, he was with me. He came with me to Tenebris, but I saved him. Please, tell me you found him, I said, rambling in shock. The doctor looked at me with pity in his eyes.

He thought I was crazy, but if Alex hadn't been found with me, It meant that he was still trapped in Tenebrus. And so once again, we reach the end of tonight's podcast. My thanks as always to the authors of those wonderful stories and to you for taking the time to listen. Now, I'd ask one small favor of you. Wherever you get your podcast wrong, please write a few nice words and leave a five-star review

as it really helps the podcast. That's it for this week, but I'll be back again, same time, same place. and I do so hope you'll join me once more. Until next time, sweet dreams and bye-bye.