Chapter 16: Whispers from the Abyss

The pale hand emerging from the well sent a wave of unease through the gathered knights. It was eerily still, fingers stretched upward as if reaching for salvation—or to drag someone down. The water rippled, distorting the shape, but the hand remained visible, frozen in place just beneath the surface.

Leon gripped the hilt of his sword. "What the hell is that?"

The knight who had peered into the well was still shaking violently, his breath coming in ragged gasps. His eyes were unfocused, staring past them into something only he could see.

Darius stepped forward, his voice firm. "Step away from the well. Now."

The knights obeyed, their hands tightening on their weapons. There was an unspoken understanding among them—this was no ordinary enemy.

Rachel, standing beside Leon, muttered under her breath, "I've seen some weird things in my life, but this… this is different."

Sophia knelt beside the trembling knight, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. "What did you see?"

The man's lips moved, but no words came out at first. Then, in a hoarse whisper, he spoke.

"They're still here…"

A cold shiver ran down Leon's spine. "Who?"

The knight slowly turned his head, his eyes bloodshot and distant. "The villagers… They're down there."

A heavy silence followed his words.

Darius frowned. "What do you mean? The well isn't deep enough to hold an entire village."

The knight let out a broken laugh, hollow and filled with something close to madness. "It's not a well… It's a door."

Leon's fingers twitched. "A door to where?"

The knight's breathing hitched. His body seized for a moment, as if fighting something unseen. Then, in a voice not entirely his own, he whispered:

"The place between."

A gust of wind rushed through the village, howling like a mournful wail. The sky above darkened, and the air grew thick, suffocating.

Leon barely had time to react before the knight let out a strangled cry, his body arching unnaturally backward. His mouth opened wide, and from within, a shadowy mist began to pour out.

Rachel cursed, grabbing her greatsword. "Move!"

Leon stepped back as the mist coiled like living tendrils, writhing in the air before surging toward the well. The moment it touched the water, a deep, echoing chime rang out—low and unnatural, as if coming from a great distance.

The pale hand beneath the water twitched.

Then, another emerged.

And another.

Leon's breath caught in his throat as countless hands began rising from the dark depths, some small and frail, others gnarled and clawed. The water no longer reflected the sky but instead revealed a void—a chasm of endless, writhing figures pressing against an unseen barrier.

Then, the voices began.

Soft at first, like whispers carried by the wind. Then louder, overlapping, desperate.

"Help us…"

"Please… don't leave us…"

"It hurts… it hurts…"

Leon's grip on his sword tightened. He had faced fear before—stood against creatures and warriors that would send lesser men running. But this? This was something wrong.

Darius unsheathed his sword, his voice sharp. "We're leaving. Now."

Leon didn't argue. Whatever this was, they weren't equipped to fight it—not yet.

The knights hurried to mount their horses, their movements urgent but controlled. The eerie whispers followed them, growing fainter as they rode away from the cursed village.

But as Leon glanced back one last time, he saw something that made his blood turn to ice.

A figure stood at the edge of the well, watching them.

Tall. Draped in tattered robes.

Its face was obscured, a void where features should have been.

And then, it raised its hand.

A silent farewell.

Leon turned forward, spurring his horse faster.

They had escaped.

But whatever haunted Black Hollow…

Had seen them.

And it would not forget.