Chains Of the Damned

He had to act fast, but without a plan, it was like knocking at death's door. Ezra and Shirley waited and watched, seemingly unnerved, as monster after monster was dragged forward and killed. Should they have been thrilled?

No. It was unsettling, horrifying even, watching the creatures turn on their own. Then again, they were monsters—foul, twisted beings driven by instincts far removed from any logic he could understand.

Ezra's mind raced, piecing together fragments of information, connecting hints he had uncovered but couldn't fully grasp yet. The shard—it was at the center of everything. The monsters needed it.

For what purpose, he didn't know, but it was the key to whatever was happening. Time behaved strangely in the chamber; that much was clear. Minutes felt like hours, and days outside passed in the blink of an eye.

The tree—it was draining energy, his resonance—leaving him weak and vulnerable. The whispers, the faint voices tied to the shard and the tree, kept clawing at his mind.

And then there was the amulet. Every time he locked eyes with it, fear consumed him. It wasn't just the abomination's overwhelming aura that left him paralyzed; the amulet radiated something else. Something far worse.

Each time he made contact with its presence, it induced a terror so raw it clawed at his very soul, as though it had been created to break him.

They were running out of time.

"It might seem a bit crazy, but we have to somehow—by a miracle—burn down the tree and, by some chance, kill the monster."

Shirley stared at him, incredulous. "Are you fucking crazy? Have you hit your head on a rock? We have absolutely zero chance of winning—heck, not even zero, negative infinity."

Ezra crossed his arms, unfazed. "Hmmm. As if I don't know that."

Shirley threw his hands up. "Oh, great, so you do know! And yet, here we are, planning a glorious death."

Ezra exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. "Look, I'm not saying it's a good plan, but it's the only one we've got. That thing isn't going to stop coming after us, and we both know it." His gaze darkened.

"And the longer we wait, the stronger it gets."

Shirley groaned, rubbing his temples. "You really know how to drag someone into a suicide mission, don't you?"

"Flattering," Ezra deadpanned. "But seriously, do you have a better plan?"

Silence.

Shirley sighed, muttering under his breath. 

Ezra smirked. "I'll take that as a yes."

"You're impossible," Shirley muttered, shaking his head. "Fine. We do this. But if we die, I'm haunting you."

Ezra huffed a laugh. "Noted."

By nightfall, they had a plan. Risky,

borderline suicidal—but it was all they had. Their only advantage was that they had time to prepare, and now, with a few tricks up their sleeves, they felt a shred more confidence.

Of course, the portal had grown even larger in the time they had been strategizing. The air around it crackled with unnatural energy, the very fabric of reality warping as if the world itself was resisting the tear in its existence. Countless corpses of monsters lay scattered around the clearing, their grotesque bodies twisted and broken, proof of the abomination's violent dominion.

And then, there it was.

The abomination stood before the portal, its hulking form eerily still. Its bat-like ears twitched at the faintest sound, the chains around its arms rattling as it adjusted its stance. The glow of the rift reflected in its hollow, skull-like eyes, casting flickering shadows across its decayed features. It wasn't just watching—it was waiting.

Something was coming.

The ground rumbled, a deep, resonating tremor shaking through the clearing. Ezra clenched his jaw, his grip tightening around his dagger as the portal distorted violently. The sickly red light pulsated, sending tendrils of energy lashing out like living things.

And then a claw—a massive, reptilian claw—emerged from the portal.