8 – Ashes of Trust

Ashes of Trust

The cellar air hung heavy with damp and blood as Liam knelt beside Carter's body, the man's pistol cold in his hand. The Eclipse Protocol badge glinted in the faint glow of the shattered rune stones, a weight heavier than the gun. His chest ached—bruised from the Watcher's throw—but the real pain was Carter's words: Died fighting it… proud. His dad, tangled in this nightmare, gone before Liam could know him. The others stood silent, blood-streaked and panting, the Watcher's scream still ringing in their ears.

Maya clutched her bandaged hand, sketchbook trembling, the cellar map smeared with her blood. Sofia leaned against a wall, wrench dangling, her fierce resolve flickering like a dying bulb. Ethan kicked a stone, crowbar clattering, his face a mask of frustration. Noah adjusted his glasses, journal open, eyes darting over Elias's scrawl, searching for what came next. The lullaby hummed faintly, a thread in the dark, mocking their victory.

"It's not dead," Maya said, voice steady despite the shake in her limbs. "We broke the circle, but it's still here."

"Carter said stalled," Liam replied, standing, pistol tucked into his waistband. "Not over. We bought time."

"Time for what?" Ethan snapped, voice sharp. "More of those things? That bastard's playing us!"

"He's right," Sofia said, pushing off the wall. "It knew my abuela, your dad—it's in our heads. How do we fight that?"

Noah flipped a page, glasses fogging. "Elias mentions a 'vessel.' The Watcher's tethered, but it needs a host to fully break free. The eclipse—"

"Is still going," Liam cut in, glancing up. The cellar had no windows, but the air pulsed, electric, the lunar shadow peaking. "We need to move."

A groan echoed—wood creaking above, dust sifting down. The manor shuddered, as if waking. Claw marks raked the ceiling, slow and deliberate, and the lullaby swelled, voices weaving in—Sofia's abuela, Liam's dad, Maya's aunt. Ethan cursed, grabbing his crowbar.

"It's pissed," he said, backing toward the stairs. "Let's go!"

They climbed, footsteps pounding, the pistol heavy against Liam's spine. The hall above was a mess—portraits askew, walls scarred, the chandelier swinging wildly in the foyer. Shadows skittered at the edges, too fast to track. Liam led, bat in one hand, gun in the other, as they burst through the front doors into the fog.

The woods were alive—trees groaning, branches snapping. Shapes moved in the mist, spider-like, human faces leering. Liam fired, a crack splitting the night, ichor splattering as one fell. Sofia swung her wrench, crushing a skull, her scream raw. Maya slashed with her knife, Ethan's crowbar thudded, Noah ducked, clutching the journal like a lifeline.

"Keep moving!" Liam yelled, reloading—Carter's clip, six shots left. The manor loomed behind, doors slamming in rhythm with the lullaby, a heartbeat of rage. They ran, fog choking their lungs, until the creatures thinned, fading into the mist.

They collapsed at the tree line, gasping, Raven Hollow's lights faint in the distance. The eclipse shadowed the sky, a crescent moon bleeding red. Liam wiped blood—his, theirs?—from his face, the badge burning in his pocket.

"We can't keep this up," Ethan panted, dropping the crowbar. "It's everywhere."

"It's not," Noah said, catching his breath. "The manor's its anchor. We hurt it there."

"Then why's it still coming?" Sofia demanded, wrench trembling. "Carter died for nothing?"

"He bought us a shot," Liam said, voice hard. "We know more now—Eclipse Protocol, the vessel. My dad was part of this. Maybe yours too."

Maya nodded, grim. "My mom ran in '98. She knew."

A rustle stopped them—footsteps, human, crunching leaves. They tensed, weapons up, as a figure emerged—Liam's mom, wild-eyed, coat torn. "Liam!" she cried, rushing him.

He caught her, stunned. "What are you doing here?"

"I followed," she sobbed, clutching him. "After you left—I saw the photos, remembered. Your dad… he worked for them. Eclipse. I begged him to stop."

Liam froze, her words a knife. "You knew?"

"Not everything," she said, shaking. "He said it was classified—something in Blackwood. Then he didn't come home."

The group stared, trust fracturing. Ethan stepped back, eyes narrowing. "You've been lying? While we're dying?"

"I didn't know it was this!" she snapped, tears streaking. "I thought it was over!"

A growl cut through—low, close. The fog swirled, and a creature lunged—human face, Liam's dad's, twisted in agony. He fired, point-blank, ichor spraying, but his mom screamed, collapsing. "No! Not again!"

Liam dragged her up, heart pounding. "Run! Now!"

They bolted, the woods erupting—more creatures, skittering, clawing. Sofia's wrench flew, Maya's knife slashed, Ethan bashed, Noah stumbled, journal slipping. Liam fired, three shots left, his mom clinging, sobbing. The town's edge loomed—streetlights flickering, safety so close—when a claw raked his leg, dropping him.

"Liam!" Maya yelled, turning back. She stabbed the creature, ichor soaking her, and hauled him up. They staggered into the street, the pack halting at the woods' edge, eyes glinting, the lullaby fading.

They hit Liam's house, barricading the door with a couch. His mom sank to the floor, shaking, while the group caught their breath, blood and dirt caking them. The eclipse waned outside, the sky lightening, but the air stayed heavy.

"She's a liability," Ethan muttered, glaring at Liam's mom. "Knows too much, says too little."

"Back off," Liam growled, helping her up. "She's my mom."

"And my aunt's dead," Maya said, voice cold. "Families don't get a pass."

Sofia clutched her wrench, torn. "She could've warned us."

Noah picked up the journal, pages torn. "She might know more. Eclipse Protocol—1998. What happened?"

Liam's mom wiped her face, voice small. "They… contained it. Your dad, others—five of them. Went in during the eclipse. Only one came out, half-mad. Said it needed blood to stay locked."

"Five," Liam echoed, dread pooling. "Like us."

She nodded, broken. "I think… you're next."

The room went silent, the weight of it crushing. Liam's hand tightened on the pistol, Carter's badge a brand. "Then we fight smarter. No more secrets."

Ethan scoffed, turning away. "Too late for that."

Later, alone, Liam stared at the badge, his mom asleep upstairs, medicated and quiet. The sigil scratched on his desk glowed faintly, and a whisper rasped: "She lied…" He smashed it with the bat, wood splintering, but the laughter lingered, deep and cold….