Story 992: The Revenant Pact

A red mist rolled across the depot ruins as Father Alistair stepped into view, robes torn, eyes glowing with infernal light. Behind him lurked a grotesque, skeletal creature stitched from the limbs of dozens—The Revenant, born from blood rituals and lost souls. It sniffed the air and grinned with a dozen mouths.

“You thought the girl was the key,” Alistair said, voice like gravel soaked in poison. “But she was only the spark. This is the flame.”

Draven raised his blade, etched with runes scorched from the cursed book’s pages. “You made a pact.”

“Not just a pact,” Alistair sneered. “A sacrifice. I fed the Hollow Man pieces of my soul for centuries. Now he gives me the power to unmake kings.”

The Rotting King hissed, stepping down from his crumbling throne. Shadows curled around him like living serpents.

“You dare challenge me, priest?”