Silent night deadly night

The return of the Forgotten

The night air felt thicker as Elliot and the others pressed forward. With every step, the feeling of dread only deepened. The hollow forest surrounding Winter’s Hollow had never been more alive with whispers, as if the trees themselves were watching, listening. Elliot felt the weight of it pressing against him, trying to drag him down, but he refused to let it. They had come too far, fought too hard to stop now.

The figure known as Thalia had disappeared into the darkness, her words echoing in Elliot's mind like a distant thunderstorm—her warning still fresh, her cryptic promise hanging in the air. The Darkling wasn't gone. Not truly. And now, the only way to stop it for good was to destroy the altar, the ancient object of its binding, and break the connection that tethered it to the mortal world. But the price of success was steep. The ritual wouldn't be easy, and the Darkling would fight them every step of the way.

Elliot could feel it. He could feel the Darkling’s influence already stirring in the depths of the forest. The ancient power was awake, ready to reclaim what had been taken from it. They didn’t have much time.

They had to act quickly.

“Stay close,” Elliot ordered, his voice steady despite the unease gnawing at his insides. Margot and Sammy fell into line behind him as they navigated the increasingly treacherous path back toward the clearing. The trees here grew dense, their branches twisting together like gnarled fingers, blocking out most of the moonlight. It was nearly impossible to see more than a few feet ahead.

“How far do you think we have to go?” Margot asked, her voice cutting through the oppressive silence. She had been silent since they had spoken with Thalia, her eyes distant as if she were already lost in her thoughts.

Elliot paused, scanning the shadows around them. “I’m not sure. But I don’t like how quiet it is. We should’ve been out of the woods by now.”

Sammy, who had been unnervingly quiet the whole time, suddenly spoke up. “Do you think we can actually destroy the altar? I mean, after everything we've been through… can it really be that simple?”

Elliot met his gaze, trying to push the unease from his own mind. “It won’t be simple, Sammy. But it’s the only option we have. We have to stop the Darkling before it’s too late.”

Margot nodded, though her face was grim. “And if we don’t?”

Elliot didn’t answer immediately. He didn’t need to. They all knew the answer.

They moved forward with renewed determination, the weight of the situation hanging heavily over them. Time was running out, and they had no choice but to finish what they had started.

The clearing came into view, the stone altar still standing in the center, its once-glowing surface now dull and lifeless. Elliot’s gaze flicked toward the spot where the Darkling had fallen—where it had been trapped, bound by the ritual they had performed earlier. But there was something wrong. The air felt... wrong. The stillness was unnatural, the kind of quiet that only preceded a storm.

“We need to destroy the altar,” Elliot muttered, taking a step forward. He could feel the power in the air, its crackling energy still lingering like a low hum beneath his skin. The Darkling had been bound here, but its presence was still unmistakable. It had left its mark on this place, and it wasn’t going to let them just waltz in and tear it down without a fight.

Margot glanced around, her hand resting on the hilt of her dagger, her posture tense. “Do you think we’re being watched?”

Elliot didn’t need to answer that. He could feel it too—the oppressive weight of being observed, the sense that something was lurking just beyond the edge of his vision. It wasn’t just the Darkling’s lingering power. There was something else here, something older, something more dangerous.

“Stay alert,” he warned, reaching into his bag for the ritual components they’d need to complete the spell Thalia had mentioned. He wasn’t sure how much of Thalia’s help was genuine or how much of it was manipulation, but there was no other choice but to trust her for now. They had no time to question motives.

As he prepared the ingredients—symbols, a vial of dark liquid, and a carved obsidian stone—he heard a sound behind him. It was subtle at first, a faint scraping against the earth. He turned sharply, his hand going instinctively to his gun.

Margot’s eyes flicked to him, narrowing. “Did you hear that?”

Elliot nodded, his senses heightened. “Stay close.”

Another scrape. This time louder, and then, from the shadows between the trees, a figure emerged. It was tall, clad in a dark cloak that seemed to absorb the moonlight, rendering it almost invisible. The figure moved with a fluid grace, as though the shadows themselves were guiding its every step. It was impossible to tell if it was a man or a woman—its face hidden beneath a hood, its form shrouded in darkness.

Elliot’s heart skipped a beat. He had known it was coming. The Darkling wasn’t the only threat in these woods. And now, the creature who had been watching them since they arrived was here.

Thalia had warned them about the others. But who was this?

“Who are you?” Elliot demanded, his voice firm but laced with caution. He didn’t know if this was an ally or yet another adversary. Either way, he wasn’t going to take any chances.

The figure didn’t speak at first. Instead, it stepped forward, revealing a faintly glowing sigil on the palm of its hand. A strange, pulsing light emanated from the symbol, casting eerie reflections across the clearing.

“Another one of you?” Elliot asked, his voice strained. “Another servant of the Darkling?”

The figure shook its head slowly, the motion deliberate. Then, it spoke—its voice soft, melodic, almost too calm for the situation. “I’m no servant of the Darkling. In fact, I’ve been trying to stop it for far longer than you can imagine.”

Elliot’s brow furrowed in confusion. “Then what do you want?”

The figure lifted its hood, revealing a face that seemed both familiar and foreign all at once. It was a woman, her sharp features framed by long, dark hair. Her eyes were an unsettling shade of pale blue, almost glowing in the dim light. They were the same eyes he had seen in his dreams—the same eyes that haunted him whenever he closed his eyes at night.

“My name is Selene,” she said, her gaze locking onto his. “And I am here to help you.”

Elliot couldn’t move. He had heard that name before. In whispers, in dreams, in the dark corners of his mind. The woman he had seen in his nightmares—the one who had guided him through the dark—was standing before him now, real and tangible.

But why now?

“Help us with what?” Margot asked, her voice skeptical, but her eyes darting back and forth between Selene and Elliot.

Selene’s gaze flicked to the altar, and then back to Elliot. “You can’t destroy the altar alone. You need more than just ritual components. You need blood. And you need the strength of the one who first bound the Darkling. The altar will resist you. The Darkling will resist you.”

Elliot’s heart pounded in his chest. “What are you asking?”

Selene stepped closer, her eyes never leaving his. “I am the one who first sealed the Darkling away. And now, I am the one who can help you finish what we started.