EPISODE 5: THE BATTLE BEGINS
653 Words
Elara sat cross-legged on her bed, the leather-bound book open in her lap. The dim glow of her bedside lamp cast long shadows across the pages, making the ink seem darker, heavier. She ran her fingers over the ancient symbols scrawled across the yellowed parchment, her stomach twisting with unease.
The woman—Madam Ren—had told her this would help. A ritual of protection, something to weaken the entity that had marked her. But the instructions were vague, filled with warnings and half-explained consequences.
It wasn’t enough.
She had spent her whole life pretending she wasn’t afraid of the things she saw. But now, she had no choice but to admit the truth.
She was terrified.
“Elara.”
Theo’s voice broke through the silence. He was sitting on the floor, leaning against her dresser, arms crossed over his chest. His usual cocky expression was gone, replaced by something serious.
“You sure about this?” he asked.
No.
But she nodded anyway.
Theo sighed. “Alright. Walk me through it again.”
Elara exhaled slowly, glancing back down at the book.
“The ritual is supposed to create a barrier between me and… it,” she said. “It won’t get rid of it, but it’ll weaken the connection. Make it harder for it to reach me.”
Theo frowned. “Yeah, see, I don’t love the word ‘supposed to.’”
Elara didn’t either.
Still, she grabbed the items Madam Ren had given her: a small bowl of salt, a candle, and a vial of thick, dark liquid that smelled like burnt herbs.
She set them on the floor in a rough circle and lit the candle.
Theo watched warily. “And you’re sure this isn’t some ‘summon the demon faster’ kind of thing?”
Elara shot him a glare. “You don’t have to be here, you know.”
“Yeah, well, leaving you alone with a shadow monster isn’t exactly an option.”
She didn’t argue.
Instead, she dipped her fingers into the vial, the liquid staining them a deep crimson. Then, she traced the symbol from the book onto the floor—a jagged, looping pattern that seemed to shift the longer she stared at it.
The moment she finished the last stroke, the candle flickered violently.
The air in the room grew heavy.
“Elara…” Theo’s voice was tense.
She felt it too. The pressure in the air. The drop in temperature.
Something was here.
She swallowed hard and began to speak the words written in the book, her voice barely above a whisper.
The candle’s flame twisted, stretching unnaturally high before snuffing out completely.
Then—
A deep, guttural whisper slithered through the room.
“This will not save you.”
Elara gasped, her body seizing as something cold wrapped around her throat.
She couldn’t see it—only the twisting darkness in the corners of her vision—but she could feel it. A hand. A grip tightening.
Theo lunged forward, grabbing her shoulders. “Elara! Say the words again!”
She tried.
Her lips moved, but no sound came out.
The shadows in the room shifted, writhing like living things, inching toward her.
Then—without thinking—Theo grabbed the bowl of salt and flung it at her.
The second the salt hit her skin, the grip vanished.
Elara collapsed forward, gasping for breath.
Theo was kneeling beside her in an instant, his hands gripping her arms. “Hey, hey, stay with me.”
Her entire body shook. “It’s getting stronger.”
Theo clenched his jaw. “Then we need to hit harder.”
Elara looked at him, eyes wide. “How?”
Theo exhaled sharply, his gaze dark. “We stop playing defense.”
She knew what he was suggesting.
They had tried to protect her. It hadn’t worked.
Now, it was time to fight back.
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- Writer
