... A growl rose behind me — low, ancient. The hairs on my neck prickled. The voice that followed was older than language, yet its meaning settled heavy in my bones:
“Blood has been spilled. Life has been disturbed. The balance will not hold.”
A sudden wind tore through the circle, snuffing every candle in one breath. Darkness rushed in, thick and endless. Something brushed the edge of my mind — unseen, but real — marking me. My soul, once whole, now felt cracked. Something inhuman was waiting to widen it.
I turned toward my mother. Her face was pale, eyes wide in sudden terror. She stepped back, as though realizing too late the depth of what she had unleashed. Her lips parted, but no sound came.
I stumbled from the circle. The night pressed hard against me.
In the days that followed, nothing was the same. Whispers stirred in the quiet hours. Shadows shifted at the edge of my sight. Faint voices called my name from empty corners.
Sleep abandoned me. My dreams were filled with symbols no human should know, landscapes not meant for mortal eyes. In the mirror, my reflection stared back hollow-eyed, as if a part of me had been left behind that night — as payment for a debt I had never agreed to owe.
1d ago
Jun 4, 2026 at 9:57 AM UTC
... A growl rose behind me — low, ancient. The hairs on my neck prickled. The voice that followed was older than language, yet its meaning settled heavy in my bones:
“Blood has been spilled. Life has been disturbed. The balance will not hold.”
A sudden wind tore through the circle, snuffing every candle in one breath. Darkness rushed in, thick and endless. Something brushed the edge of my mind — unseen, but real — marking me. My soul, once whole, now felt cracked. Something inhuman was waiting to widen it.
I turned toward my mother. Her face was pale, eyes wide in sudden terror. She stepped back, as though realizing too late the depth of what she had unleashed. Her lips parted, but no sound came.
I stumbled from the circle. The night pressed hard against me.
In the days that followed, nothing was the same. Whispers stirred in the quiet hours. Shadows shifted at the edge of my sight. Faint voices called my name from empty corners.
Sleep abandoned me. My dreams were filled with symbols no human should know, landscapes not meant for mortal eyes. In the mirror, my reflection stared back hollow-eyed, as if a part of me had been left behind that night — as payment for a debt I had never agreed to owe.
Inspired by events which may or may not have happened.
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