The Ritual
414 Words
The fog thickened overnight, swallowing the house in a suffocating gray. Outside, the trees stood motionless, like silent sentinels waiting for something to begin.
Sandeep barely slept. Miriam’s journal weighed heavily on his mind. Every page hinted at the same truth: the ritual would happen soon, and the fate of the town—and his brother—depended on him.
In the late afternoon, a knock echoed through the empty house.
Sandeep opened the door to find a woman standing in the mist.
She was tall, with dark hair pulled back tightly, eyes sharp as broken glass.
“I’m Elara,” she said, her voice low but steady. “I’ve come to help.”
Elara explained she was one of the last members of the Threshold—a splinter group working against Marla Greene’s faction.
She told Sandeep the cult was divided. Some sought to release the fog, to become part of its endless hunger. Others wanted to keep it contained, at any cost.
“The ritual is the final seal,” Elara said. “It must be performed at midnight in the Hollow. You are the key, Sandeep.”
Sandeep felt the weight of it settle on his shoulders.
He was terrified.
But he knew he couldn’t run.
As night fell, they prepared in the house.
Herbs burned in the fireplace, filling the air with acrid smoke. Symbols were drawn in chalk on the floor.
Sandeep found himself standing in the center, clutching the dragon flashlight—now glowing faintly blue.
Outside, the fog began to churn.
The walk to the Hollow was a journey through nightmares.
The mist shifted like water, shapes twisting just beyond sight.
Whispers called his name.
The ground beneath his feet seemed to breathe.
At the altar, cultists waited—some faces friendly, others twisted with madness.
The spiral symbol glowed in the moonlight.
Elara began the chant.
As the ritual reached its c****x, the fog exploded with movement.
From its depths, a figure emerged: a child with eyes black as night.
Rohan.
Or what remained.
Sandeep stepped forward, flashlight beam cutting through the haze.
He raised the light, focusing on the child.
The figure screamed—a sound like breaking glass and dying stars—and vanished.
The fog thinned.
The Hollow was silent again.
Sandeep fell to his knees, breath ragged.
Elara reached out.
“It’s over… for now.”
But deep beneath the earth, something stirred.
The spiral symbol burned red.
The fog waited.
- Writer
