A SHARED DREAM. a nightmare that won't let go

THE PATH TO THE ALTAR

Chapter: The Path to the Altar

Elias’s cabin was cold, the air thick with the scent of herbs and decay. The three friends sat around a weathered wooden table while Elias poured over Megan’s journal, his brow furrowed in concentration. The fire crackled weakly in the hearth, casting flickering shadows on the walls adorned with strange symbols and faded maps.

“I need you to listen carefully,” Elias began, his voice grave. “The altar isn’t just a place. It’s a stronghold of power. Destroying it will sever the connection between your bloodline and The Hunter, but getting there will be... perilous.”

Emily leaned forward, her eyes darting to the maps and strange artifacts strewn across the table. “Where is it?” she asked, her voice tight with a mix of fear and urgency.

Elias pulled out a tattered map and spread it across the table. His finger traced a path leading to a remote area marked with an ominous symbol. “Here. The ruins of Alaric’s castle. Deep in the mountains, hidden from the world.”

Jack shook his head. “Let me guess—completely uncharted, crawling with whatever horrors Alaric left behind, and probably booby-trapped for good measure?”

Elias smirked humorlessly. “You’re not wrong. The path is treacherous, and the curse’s minions guard the area fiercely. The closer you get, the stronger the influence of the curse. Nightmares will bleed into reality. You’ll feel its pull, its hunger. Most people wouldn’t make it halfway.”

“Good thing we’re not most people,” Sarah said, her tone more confident than she felt.

Emily shot her a wary glance but nodded in agreement. “We don’t have a choice. If we don’t do this, we’re dead anyway. And so is anyone else tied to this bloodline.”

Elias sighed deeply. “Then you’ll need preparation.”

---

For the next few hours, Elias taught them everything he knew about the curse and its manifestations. He showed them how to create protective charms and sigils to ward off The Hunter’s influence, though he warned them the protections wouldn’t last long if they strayed too close to the altar. He also gave them weapons—crude but effective blades etched with runes designed to harm the curse’s minions.

“Remember,” Elias said, his voice steady but cold, “you can’t kill The Hunter. It’s not a mortal being. You can only delay it. Your goal is the altar. Nothing else matters.”

Jack tested the weight of the blade in his hand. “Great. So we’re armed with glorified letter openers against an immortal death spirit. Love this plan.”

Sarah ignored him, focusing on memorizing the runes Elias had drawn for them. “What happens if we fail?” she asked softly, not looking up.

Elias’s expression darkened. “If you fail, The Hunter will claim you. And the curse will continue until every last descendant of Alaric’s bloodline is gone. It will never stop.”

A heavy silence fell over the room.

---

They left the cabin at dawn, the forest shrouded in mist. Elias watched them from the doorway, his face unreadable. “Stay together,” he called after them. “And whatever happens, don’t lose sight of your goal.”

The path to the ruins was just as treacherous as Elias had warned. The forest seemed to close in around them, the air growing colder and heavier with each step. The protective charms Elias had given them glowed faintly, but even their light seemed feeble against the encroaching darkness.

“I don’t like this,” Jack muttered, his voice low.

“None of us do,” Emily replied, her eyes scanning the shadows.

Hours passed, and the forest began to change. The trees grew twisted and gnarled, their branches reaching out like skeletal hands. The ground was uneven, littered with roots and stones that threatened to trip them with every step.

Then, they heard it—a low, guttural growl that seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at once.

“Did you hear that?” Sarah whispered, clutching her blade tightly.

“Stay calm,” Emily said, though her own hands were trembling.

The growling grew louder, and then they saw it—a pair of glowing eyes watching them from the darkness. Then another. And another.

The creatures emerged from the shadows, their forms barely human. Their bodies were twisted and contorted, their eyes glowing with an unnatural light. They moved with a predatory grace, circling the three friends like wolves stalking prey.

“Hold the line!” Emily shouted, raising her blade.

The creatures lunged. The fight was chaotic and brutal. The runes on their blades flared as they struck, burning the creatures with each hit, but the minions were relentless. Jack was thrown to the ground, barely managing to roll away from a clawed hand. Sarah stabbed one of the creatures in the chest, but another tackled her from behind.

Emily fought with everything she had, slashing and stabbing as the creatures closed in. “Don’t let them separate us!” she screamed.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the last of the creatures fell. The three friends stood panting, covered in scratches and bruises.

“Is this what Elias meant by ‘perilous’?” Jack asked, his voice shaking.

“Probably,” Emily said, wiping blood from her face. “Let’s keep moving before more show up.”

---

As they neared the ruins, the air grew colder, and the shadows seemed to move on their own. The protective charms Elias had given them were dim now, their light barely visible.

The castle came into view suddenly, its crumbling towers rising out of the mist like jagged teeth. The sight of it sent a chill down their spines.

“We’re here,” Sarah said, her voice barely above a whisper.

The entrance was guarded by a massive stone door covered in runes. Emily stepped forward, studying the symbols. “These match the ones Elias showed us,” she said, tracing the lines with her fingers.

As she touched the door, the runes began to glow, and the door creaked open. A cold wind rushed out, carrying with it the scent of decay.

“This is it,” Jack said, gripping his blade tightly. “No turning back now.”

They stepped inside, the darkness swallowing them whole. The sound of their footsteps echoed through the empty halls, each step feeling heavier than the last. The castle seemed alive, the walls pulsing faintly as if breathing.

And then, they heard it—the sound they had been dreading. A faint, rhythmic tapping, like metal on stone.

“The Hunter,” Sarah whispered, her voice trembling.

The tapping grew louder, closer. The friends gripped their blades, their hearts pounding. They knew the real fight was about to begin.