The Seven Creatures, Part Five

The Forgotten Spire loomed in the distance like a jagged wound against the night sky. Its obsidian surface seemed to drink in the light, casting no reflection or shadow. Isaac stood at its base, the dagger pulsing faintly at his side. This was where Umbrelis waited, the sixth creature, the embodiment of chaos.

The wind howled around him, carrying with it whispers that made his skin crawl. The air was thick with unease, each breath heavy with the weight of what lay ahead. Isaac tightened his grip on the dagger and stepped forward.

The entrance to the Spire was a gaping maw, a tunnel carved into the rock that seemed to stretch into infinity. The walls shifted as he moved, their surfaces rippling like liquid. It was disorienting, the boundaries of reality blurring with every step.

“Isaac…”

The voice was soft, almost gentle, but it echoed in his mind like a scream. He paused, glancing over his shoulder, but the tunnel was empty. He continued forward, the voice growing louder with each step.

“Isaac Grimm… Do you even know who you are?”

He gritted his teeth, refusing to let the words distract him. The voice was a trick, a manifestation of the creature’s power. He pressed on, the tunnel narrowing until he had to stoop to move forward.

The air grew colder, the darkness more oppressive. The dagger’s glow was the only source of light, casting eerie shadows on the walls. Isaac’s breath came in shallow gasps, his chest tight with the weight of the atmosphere.

Then, the tunnel opened into a vast chamber. The ceiling stretched beyond sight, the walls pulsing with a sickly, iridescent light. At the center of the room, Umbrelis waited.

The creature was a mass of shifting darkness, its form constantly changing. Eyes blinked open and shut across its surface, and mouths formed and dissolved, each one whispering words that Isaac couldn’t understand. The air around it crackled with energy, the boundaries of reality warping in its presence.

“You’ve come far, Guardian,” Umbrelis said, its voice a cacophony of tones. “But this is where your journey ends.”

Isaac raised the dagger, its glow intensifying. “You won’t stop me.”

Umbrelis laughed, a sound that echoed off the walls and into Isaac’s skull. “You think this is about me? About us?” The creature shifted, its form growing larger, more menacing. “This is about you.”

The chamber around Isaac began to warp, the walls bending and twisting. Shadows rose from the ground, taking on familiar shapes. He saw his father, his face etched with disappointment. He saw Avara, her eyes filled with betrayal. He saw himself, standing over the bodies of the creatures he had slain, his hands stained with their ichor.

“Do you even know why you fight?” Umbrelis asked, its voice softer now, almost curious. “Do you know what you are becoming?”

Isaac clenched his jaw, his grip on the dagger tightening. “I’m becoming what I need to be to stop you.”

Umbrelis laughed again, the sound grating against Isaac’s nerves. “You’re becoming one of us.”

The words struck a chord deep within him, a truth he had been avoiding. He had felt it—the darkness growing within him, the power that came with each creature he defeated. It was intoxicating, a part of him that he feared but couldn’t deny.

But he couldn’t let that stop him.

Isaac charged, the dagger slashing through the air. Umbrelis moved like smoke, its form shifting to avoid the blade. Tendrils of darkness lashed out, wrapping around Isaac’s limbs and pulling him to the ground.

“You cannot fight chaos,” Umbrelis said, its voice echoing from all directions. “You cannot fight what you are.”

Isaac struggled against the tendrils, the dagger’s glow flickering. The whispers grew louder, a cacophony of doubt and fear that threatened to consume him.

But then he remembered Avara’s voice, the strength in her words. He remembered the people of Hollow, their lives hanging in the balance. He remembered why he had started this journey.

With a roar, he broke free, the dagger blazing with light. He lunged at Umbrelis, the blade sinking into its shifting form. The creature screamed, its body writhing as the light spread through it.

“You cannot escape what you are!” Umbrelis shouted, its voice desperate now.

“I don’t need to escape,” Isaac said, his voice steady. “I just need to end you.”

He drove the dagger deeper, the glow consuming Umbrelis’s form. The creature let out a final, ear-splitting scream before collapsing into a pool of darkness. The chamber shook, the walls cracking as the Spire began to collapse.

Isaac staggered back, the dagger now pulsing with the essence of six creatures. The ichor within it was darker than ever, the power thrumming through his veins.

---

Isaac emerged from the Spire just as it crumbled behind him, the ground swallowing the structure whole. The night was silent, the air still. He stood there for a moment, catching his breath, before turning back toward the church.

Sister Amara was waiting for him, her expression a mix of relief and concern.

“Six down,” Isaac said, placing the dagger on the altar.

Amara nodded, her gaze lingering on the blade. “You’ve grown stronger,” she said. “But the darkness within you…”

“I know,” Isaac said, cutting her off. “One more.”

Amara hesitated, then opened the tome to the final page. The image of the last creature was unlike anything Isaac had seen before. It was monstrous, its form incomprehensible, a mass of tendrils and wings and fire. Beneath the illustration was a single word: Malachai.

“It is the first,” Amara said, her voice trembling. “The source of all the others. To defeat it is to sever the pact entirely.”

Isaac stared at the image, his jaw tightening. “Where is it?”

Amara closed the tome, her hands trembling. “It waits at the center of Hollow, beneath the church. Its prison has been weakening with each creature you’ve slain. It knows you’re coming.”

Isaac nodded, his resolve unshaken. “Then I’ll finish this.”

Amara watched him go, her heart heavy with the weight of what was to come. The final battle was approaching, and with it, the fate of Hollow—and Isaac himself—would be decided.