ECLIPSIS

CHAPTER TWO: Whispers of the Night's Embrace

In the aftermath of a Friday night bonfire party, a group of spirited teens, fueled by the warmth of camaraderie, ventured homeward through the moonlit woods of Fordwich. Among them was Alfred, his laughter echoing with the shared tales of a remarkable bonfire night, declared by many as the best the town had ever witnessed.

However, the joyous ambiance took a sinister turn when Mia, attuned to an unsettling growl in the shadows, urged her companions into silence. Dismissing her caution as another one of Mia's pranks, the intoxicated William scoffed, challenging the legitimacy of the ominous sounds. In an instant, the unknown creature lurking in the woods seized William, leaving the group in horrified disarray.

Screams pierced the night as chaos unfolded, and in the pandemonium, the creature claimed another victim, its fangs sinking into the flesh of an unfortunate girl, Mia. As the chilling scene unfolded, Alfred, too, found himself ensnared by the creature's grasp. Fangs sank into his flesh, the pain searing through him. In a desperate bid for survival, Alfred fought back, narrowly escaping the same fate that befell his friends.

Returning home, Alfred grappled with the excruciating pain from the creature's bite. His mother, discovering him in distress, called for an ambulance. Unconsciousness enveloped Alfred as the ambulance raced through the night.

Awakening in the hospital the next morning, Alfred felt an unsettling transformation taking hold. A newfound, uncontrollable urge to kill pulsed through him, the coldness within intensifying into an unbearable rage. Succumbing to this dark force, Alfred, in a fit of violent fury, savagely ended the life of a nurse who entered his room.

Fleeing into the night, Alfred's escape prompted a police investigation, not only to unravel the mystery behind the nurse's gruesome demise but also to ascertain whether Alfred was a victim or perpetrator.

In the hospital corridors, Lewis Archer, a man with a haunting familiarity with such incidents, approached the police. Introduced himself as Lewis Archer, the police, unmoved, dismissed his inquiry. Unperturbed, Lewis Archer sought information from a nearby nurse, learning the name "Alfred Alexander" and the horrifying events that transpired.

As Lewis Archer departed with his daughter, the mystery deepened, leaving a trail of questions and a town shrouded in the ominous echoes of the night's dark events.

After Lewis Archer drove home, delivering his daughter to his wife, a pressing sense of urgency drove him to action. He swiftly mobilized his team, equipped with cutting-edge gadgets designed for tracking individuals of a similar fate to Alfred. The convoy of vehicles rumbled into the night, bound for the ominous woods.

Upon arrival, Lewis Archer and his team deployed their advanced devices, honing in on signals and traces left behind by Alfred. Aware of the urgency, Lewis Archer strategically split his team, ensuring comprehensive coverage of the expansive woodland and expediting Alfred's capture.

Meanwhile, Alfred, overwhelmed by a cocktail of fear and guilt, found himself succumbing to tears as a haunting sound reverberated through the woods. The sound, designed to draw him closer, echoed in his ears, rendering it nearly impossible for him to resist its pull. In a desperate attempt to escape the relentless pursuit, Alfred sprinted toward the source.

However, as he reached the origin of the sound, a swift arrow from one of the pursuers struck Alfred, sending him crumpling to the forest floor. Tear-stained and vulnerable, he awaited the inevitable capture.

In a surprising turn of events, Cuthbert, the notorious Lycan Marauder of supernatural repute, materialized on the scene. Addressing Alfred with a cryptic greeting, he offered assistance. Bewildered, Alfred inquired about Cuthbert's identity, receiving no verbal response. Instead, Cuthbert swiftly seized Alfred, vanishing into the night with remarkable speed.

Back with Lewis Archer, the sudden intervention left him bewildered. Trying to make sense of the situation, he pondered the identity of this mysterious savior. With a mix of confusion and curiosity, Lewis questioned who could possess such incredible speed and deduced that this individual must be one of the ancient beings. The enigma deepened as Fordwich welcomed an unexpected visitor of extraordinary abilities.

Cuthbert ushered Alfred into a dimly lit apartment. "You'll be staying here for now," he declared, his voice carrying a weight of authority.

Alfred, his countenance devoid of emotion, spoke calmly, " My heart resides in a void of numbness at this moment. Emotions, once vivid, now elude me. An emptiness pervades, rendering me neither sad nor happy; instead, I am ensnared in the desolation of emotional exhaustion."

Cuthbert, understanding the tumult within Alfred, responded, "You are like me now, a Lycan Marauder. What you’re feeling is normal for what you are going through. As a Lycan, you choose to have emotions when you want to. You fill your heart with whatever you want - hate, anger, whatever. I stopped being me a long ago," he added with a scoff. "Somedays even the devil sits and admires my work."

Alfred, grappling with his newfound reality, questioned, "Lycan Marauder? What does that even mean? All of this, I didn't ask for. I’m not ready to become something I don’t even know. Did you do this to me? Bewildered, he sought answers amidst the chaos."

Cuthbert scoffed in response, "Me? I just got to Fordwich."

Alfred persisted, "Then who are you, and why are you helping me?"

Cuthbert, mysterious and enigmatic, replied, "Well, my presence here involves some other mysteries you're yet to know. And as for helping you, you're like me, and you need me because without me, you'll die."

Alfred, overwhelmed by the weight of his transformation, expressed, "I still have so many questions. Who did this to me? Who were those men in the woods that were after me? What am I going to do now that I've turned into a vicious psychopath and I just took a life? The police are out there looking for me, my parents too. What am I going to tell them? Can I even trust you?" he asked, his uncertainty palpable.

Cuthbert, maintaining an air of mystery, simply stated, "You'll find out." The room hung with unresolved tension as the two figures navigated the complexities of their intertwined fates in the mystical tapestry of Fordwich.

In the dimly lit cemetery, the assembly of Linnea, elders, and fellow witches convened, seeking connection with their ancestral spirits. A somber discourse unfolded, contemplating the enigmatic killings of the young ones and their potential ties to the supernatural world, with whispers of Cuthbert's involvement lingering in the air. The urgency in the atmosphere prompted some witches to advocate for decisive action, even if it meant resorting to sacrifices, as Fordwich seemed to mutate into an ominous entity.

Attempting to restore a semblance of calm, Linnea found herself disrupted by an unexpected entrance—Cuthbert. Reactions among the witches varied – fear, shock, and displeasure etched on their faces. Cuthbert, radiating an air of regality, confidently traversed toward the assembly. With a malevolent smile, he uttered sarcastically, "Witches of Fordwich, I presume you're all happy to see me."

As he approached the elders and Linnea, his eyes locked onto her with a smirk. Turning to address the assembly, Cuthbert displayed unwavering confidence. "I hope I’m welcomed. I know you all see me as a bloodthirsty Lycan Marauder. But even if I am as ruthless as you say, how would I tamper with this sacred ground? Isn't this where you have your little rituals and sacrifices?" The words dripped with mockery as he took his seat majestically.

Linnea, despite her evident disgust towards Cuthbert and the unwelcome disruption, pressed on with the conversation. "I know by now you must have heard about Lewis Archer—a man who has devoted his life to ending the supernatural and driving us to extinction. He carries a haunting family legacy and has controlled Fordwich for far too long, preventing us from taking control or finding a cure to our curse. Even though he doesn't kill us on sight, he has found numerous ways to punish us."

Cuthbert chuckled in response, his sinister amusement evident. "How does this have to do with me?" Cuthbert inquired with a raised eyebrow, challenging the witches' assertion of his involvement.

The plea from the Fordwich witches resonated through Linnea's words. "We know that there is no one stronger, more experienced, and skilled to destroy Lewis Archer and his formidable forces than you. We want you to do everything possible to end him."

Cuthbert laughed mockingly. "So you petty witches really think it will be that easy? That I would just go after Lewis Archer for you? This has to be the funniest thing I’ve heard in a while. Aetherian witches, they never cease to amaze me."

As the discourse continued, Lief, an elder, interjected, his voice resonating with gravity. "You do know we are talking about a powerful haunter, one that doesn't only go after witches but also shiftarians like yourself. Do you understand how many of your kind he has killed and captured? And do you comprehend how long it will take before he comes after you?"

Cuthbert's countenance shifted, revealing displeasure at Lief's words. A flicker of irritation crossed his face as he retorted, "And you really think Lewis Archer or your Aetherian witches can control me? I serve no one. I am Cuthbert Edgarmund. Nothing you say to me will make an impact."

In the midst of escalating tension, Linnea's eyes flickered with an ethereal light, transforming into an otherworldly white. As if guided by unseen forces, she gazed upward, tapping into the ancient connection with her ancestors. A sudden vision unfolded before her, revealing ominous shadows and a looming, malevolent presence threatening Fordwich. The revelation struck her to the core, and as the vision subsided, Linnea's gaze returned to their normal state.

In a voice resonating with the weight of her newfound knowledge, Linnea declared to Cuthbert, "Something or someone more significant than all of us is coming, or perhaps already here. We've borne witness to the killing of our young ones—a phenomenon not witnessed in a long time." Her words carried the gravity of ancestral insight, leaving a profound impact on those gathered. As she spoke, her eyes retained a glint of the mystical, a subtle reminder of the ancient connection that guided her. "The only way we stand a chance to unveil what it is or to stop it is if we work together."

Cuthbert, intrigued yet resolute, stated, "I won't be a part of any of this or your plans. I have a reason for coming to Fordwich, and that is what I am going to do." With that, Cuthbert walked out, leaving the witches in disbelief amid the cryptic and foreboding atmosphere of the cemetery.