Chapter 3: THE ROOM BENEATH FAITH
1516 Words
The corridor changed the deeper they went.
At first, Sera thought it was just her nerves—her brain trying to turn shadows into something worse. But no. This was real.
The walls weren’t just old anymore.
They were… older than old.
The stone shifted from structured Vatican architecture into something rougher, carved instead of built. The air grew colder. Heavier. Like it remembered things.
Sera walked a few steps behind Father Elias, her arms wrapped tightly around herself, as if that could hold her together.
It wasn’t working.
Her thoughts kept looping.
You always say that.
You never do.
You chose this again.
Her jaw clenched.
“No,” she whispered under her breath. “No, this is manipulation. Psychological conditioning. That’s all this is.”
Elias didn’t turn around.
But he answered anyway.
“It helps if you say it out loud,” he said quietly. “You last longer that way.”
Sera stopped walking.
“What does that mean?”
He paused a few steps ahead.
Then slowly turned to face her.
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
The silence stretched.
Not empty.
Waiting.
Then he said—
“It means you don’t break immediately.”
Her stomach dropped.
“I’m not going to break.”
He held her gaze.
“…You always say that too.”
Something snapped.
“Stop saying that!” she burst out, her voice echoing off the stone. “Stop acting like you know me—like you’ve seen this before—like I’m some kind of script you’ve memorized—”
“You’re not a script.”
His voice was calm.
Too calm.
“You’re a cycle.”
The word hit harder than it should have.
Sera shook her head violently. “No. No, I’m not—”
“Come,” he said softly, turning away again. “You need to see it.”
“I don’t need to see anything—”
“Yes,” he cut in.
Not loud.
Not aggressive.
But final.
Sera’s breath caught.
And before she could argue again—
He pushed open a set of doors.
Heavy.
Ancient.
Stone grinding against stone with a deep, echoing sound that seemed to come from everywhere at once.
The moment the doors opened—
Sera felt it.
Not saw.
Felt.
Like stepping into a pressure change.
Like the air itself was aware of her.
Her body went rigid.
Every instinct screamed at her to turn around.
To run.
To leave.
But she stepped forward anyway.
Because something inside her—
Something deep—
recognized this place.
The room beyond was massive.
Circular.
The ceiling arched high above, disappearing into shadow. The walls were lined with carvings—figures, symbols, patterns that hurt to look at for too long, like her brain couldn’t quite process them.
And at the center—
Twelve stone sarcophagi.
Arranged in a perfect circle.
Sera’s breath left her slowly.
“…What is this?”
No one answered immediately.
Elias stepped aside slightly, giving her a clear view.
Letting her take it in.
Letting it sink.
Sera moved forward.
Slowly.
Carefully.
Like approaching something that might wake up if she got too close.
Her eyes scanned the sarcophagi.
One.
Two.
Three—
Her breath caught.
They were open.
Most of them.
Lids pushed aside.
Empty.
All of them.
Except—
Her gaze locked onto the last one.
The only one still sealed.
It stood slightly apart from the others.
Not by distance.
But by feeling.
Like the space around it was tighter.
Heavier.
Her chest tightened.
“…Why is that one closed?”
Elias didn’t answer right away.
Of course he didn’t.
Sera swallowed hard and took another step forward.
The floor beneath her feet was different here.
Smoother.
Worn down.
Like something had been dragged across it.
Repeatedly.
Her pulse quickened.
“Answer me,” she said, quieter now.
Still no response.
Her eyes moved back to the open sarcophagi.
Something about them felt…
Wrong.
Not just empty.
Used.
Her stomach twisted.
“What was in these?”
Elias finally spoke.
“Not what,” he said.
Sera turned to him sharply.
“What do you mean?”
His gaze didn’t waver.
“Who.”
The word echoed.
Louder than it should have.
Sera’s throat went dry.
“…Who?”
He stepped closer.
Not threatening.
Not comforting.
Just… present.
“Gods.”
Silence.
Absolute.
Complete.
Sera stared at him.
Then laughed.
It came out hollow.
“No.”
No one else laughed.
Her smile faltered.
“You’re serious.”
“Yes.”
Her head shook slowly.
“No, that’s—no, that’s not—”
“You asked for the truth.”
“This isn’t truth, this is—this is mythology, this is—this is insane—”
“It is.”
Her voice cracked.
“But it’s still true.”
Something inside her chest twisted violently.
“No,” she whispered. “No, I don’t—no.”
She turned away from him, pacing a few steps, running her hands through her hair.
“Gods aren’t real. They’re constructs. Cultural narratives shaped by—by fear, by ignorance, by—”
“They were real.”
Sera froze.
“They’re not anymore.”
Her heart skipped.
“…What do you mean ‘were’?”
Elias watched her carefully.
Measuring.
Waiting.
Then—
“They died.”
The room seemed to get colder.
Sera swallowed hard.
“All of them?”
“Yes.”
Her breath hitched.
“…How?”
The silence this time felt different.
Heavier.
Personal.
Sera turned slowly.
Met his eyes.
And for the first time—
She saw something there.
Not calm.
Not control.
Something else.
Something like… hesitation.
“…Say it,” she whispered.
Elias held her gaze.
And then he said it.
“You killed them.”
The words didn’t register.
Not at first.
They just… existed.
Floating in the air between them.
Waiting to be understood.
Sera blinked.
“What?”
“You killed them,” he repeated.
Her laugh came back.
Louder this time.
Hysterical.
“No. No, I didn’t. That’s—no. That’s not possible. I’m not—”
“You are.”
“I’m a scientist!” she snapped. “I study history, I don’t rewrite it—”
“You ended it.”
Her chest tightened painfully.
“I don’t even believe in gods—”
“You used to.”
The words hit like a punch.
Sera staggered back a step.
“No.”
“You believed in them more than anyone.”
“No.”
“You loved them.”
“Stop.”
“You served them.”
“Stop!”
“You became one of them.”
“STOP!”
Her scream echoed violently through the chamber.
The walls seemed to respond.
The carvings shifted—
No.
Not shifted.
Moved.
Just for a second.
Sera’s breath hitched.
Her head spun.
“No… no, this is—this is a hallucination—”
Her voice faltered.
Because something was happening.
The air was changing again.
Pressure building.
The only sealed sarcophagus—
cracked.
A sharp sound split through the room.
Stone grinding.
Breaking.
Sera froze.
Slowly—
very slowly—
she turned.
A thin line had formed across the lid.
Not large.
Not dramatic.
But enough.
Enough for something inside to…
breathe.
A low sound slipped through the crack.
Not quite a voice.
Not quite air.
Something in between.
Ancient.
Hungry.
Sera’s heart began to pound.
“No…”
Another crack.
Louder this time.
The lid shifted.
Just slightly.
Elias moved.
Fast.
For the first time since she’d met him.
He stepped in front of her, placing himself between her and the sarcophagus.
“Get back,” he said.
No calm now.
No control.
Just urgency.
Sera didn’t move.
She couldn’t.
Her eyes were locked on the coffin.
Because something inside it—
knew she was there.
She could feel it.
Not see.
Not hear.
Feel.
Recognition.
And then—
A whisper.
Soft.
Barely there.
But clear.
“…late…”
Her breath caught.
It was the same voice.
From the corridor.
From the body.
From—
herself.
The sarcophagus lid shifted again.
Stone grinding.
Breaking.
Opening.
Elias turned his head slightly.
Just enough to look at her.
And for the first time—
there was fear in his eyes.
“…We don’t have as much time as we thought.”
Sera’s stomach dropped.
“What does that mean?”
He didn’t answer.
Of course he didn’t.
Because the lid moved again.
Wider this time.
And something inside—
started to wake up.
Sera took a step back.
Then another.
Her mind screaming at her to run.
To get out.
To leave this place behind before it swallowed her whole.
But her feet didn’t move fast enough.
Because deep down—
beneath the fear—
beneath the panic—
something else was rising.
Something worse.
Something familiar.
Something that whispered the truth she didn’t want to hear.
You’ve been here before.
The sarcophagus cracked open wider.
And whatever was inside—
was almost free.
- Writer
