Story 1084: The Hollow Sermon

The town of Carrion’s Hollow had long forgotten the name of its church. They only called it the Place of Echoes—a derelict cathedral that loomed over the rotting fields like a mourning sentinel. No one dared enter its grounds after sunset, not since the sermons turned hollow.

It began during the last winter before the Fall.

Father Alban Crowe had been a beloved figure, his voice warm enough to thaw even the most jaded hearts. But one day, he stood at the pulpit and spoke words no one could comprehend—phrases that tasted like ash and made the congregation's blood run cold. Some said his shadow moved on its own, gesturing wildly as he stood frozen. Others claimed they saw thin, jagged figures slithering behind the stained-glass windows, pressing their faces against the colored light.

Then, the deaths began.