Chapter XXVI

The ancient castle loomed before us—a relic of forgotten nightmares. Its stone walls whispered secrets, and the air clung to my skin like a shroud. Alec and I stepped across the threshold, my breaths hitching. I was seeker of truth, drawn to the heart of darkness where memories bled into the very stones.

The corridors stretched like veins, leading deeper into the castle's belly. Dust motes danced in the dim light, and the floorboards groaned beneath our weight. My pulse quickened; I felt the castle's gaze upon me, as if it hungered for my soul.

"Remind me why are we here?" Alec's voice was a threadbare whisper. He, too, sensed the castle's malevolence—the way it clung to our footsteps, urging us forward.

"Answers," I replied, my eyes scanning the faded tapestries. "This place holds memories— their memories"

Before Alec could ask me about what I meant by "their memories", We heard it—a distant echo, like a scream trapped in the walls. My dreams clawed at me, threatening to consume my sanity. I stumbled, my fingers grazing the cold stone of the same statue which I saw it in my dream. Alec caught me, his touch grounding me in the present.

"Remember," he murmured. "We're here for answers, not ghosts."

But the castle had other plans. As we ascended the grand staircase, portraits leered from their frames—ancestors with hollow eyes, their secrets etched in brushstrokes. My breath hitched; I recognized them—their twisted smiles, their tragic fates. 

The air was thick with the scent of mold and decay, and the once magnificent tapestries that adorned the walls now hung in tatters, their threads unraveling like the sanity of those who dared to dwell within these walls.

The hall was shrouded in darkness, save for the faint glow of moonlight that filtered through the broken windows, casting ghostly shadows that danced upon the stone floor. The silence was oppressive, broken only by the sound of our own breathing and the distant drip of water—each drop a mournful echo in the vast emptiness.

It was here, amidst the remnants of grandeur, that my gaze fell upon the artifact—the same candle stand that I stole, I clearly see its surface tarnished by the passage of time. It stood upon a pedestal, as if waiting for me, calling to me with a voice from the past.

As I approached, the air grew colder, and the shadows seemed to draw closer, whispering secrets in a language not meant for my mortal ears. Alec reached out to stop me, but it was too late. My fingers brushed against the metal, and in that instant, the hall erupted into chaos.

The candles upon the stand ignited with a green flame, casting an eerie light that painted the hall in a spectral hue. The shadows writhed and twisted, forming shapes that were neither human nor beast, their eyes glowing with malice. A low growl filled the air, a sound so primal and terrifying that it threatened to shatter their resolve.

Some presence was there, in the very essence of the horror that unfolded. I could not see, but I felt this strong presence—its rage, its power, its curse. The green flames flickered, reflecting in the mirrors that lined the hall, and for a moment, I thought I saw his face—a visage of such haunting beauty and terror that it seared itself into my memory.

Alec's demeanor had shifted; the confusion that once resided in his eyes was now replaced by a glacial resolve. As the supernatural chaos unfolded around them, his aggression became palpable, a force as formidable as the encroaching darkness.

"Enough of this charade," Alec's voice thundered through the grand hall, his words slicing through the thick air. "Cease this cowardly display and face us!"

The shadows recoiled momentarily, as if taken aback by Alec's audacity. But they were not to be underestimated. With a malevolent intelligence, they regrouped, their forms coalescing into tendrils of darkness that whipped through the air towards him.

Alec stood his ground, his fists clenched at his sides. "I will not be intimidated by mere shadows," he declared, his voice a cold challenge to the unseen force that dared to threaten them. 

But the shadows were relentless. They surged forward, a wave of darkness intent on smothering the light of his defiance. One shadow lashed out, sharp as a blade, and Alec felt a sting across his cheek—a warning that this was no illusion, but a battle for their very souls.

I cried out, my voice a mix of fear and desperation. "Alec, be careful!" But Alec was undeterred, his anger fueling his courage.

"You will not harm us," he growled, stepping forward to shield me. "We are not pawns in your twisted game. Reveal yourself whatever phantom you are!"

"Alec, stop it—we do not know what we are dealing with. Stop being an asshole," I cried, my voice a tremulous whisper against the cacophony of our terror. I dared a glance over my shoulder, back to the gaping maw of the Hall's entrance, and there it was—the shadow. It loomed like a sentinel of doom, its form undulating with a pure hunger of hatred that was palpable even from this distance.

I gulped; the sound lost in the oppressive silence of the hall. The shadow's gaze was fixed upon me, a predator eyeing its prey, and I could feel the malice radiating from it, a tangible force that promised pain and suffering. And then, without warning, the same sharp agony that had plagued me before erupted in my back, a searing lance of pain that threatened to buckle my knees. It was as if the shadow itself had reached out and clawed at my very soul. 

"Kill Alec," it murmured, each syllable a blade. "Otherwise, he will kill you."

The shadow whispered in my head, its voice a venomous hiss that slithered through the corridors of my mind. It was not a suggestion; it was a command.