Chapter 19: The Prisoner is Free

Chapter 19: The Prisoner is Free

1

The ground **split wide open**.

Amy and I staggered back as the field **shattered**, dirt and roots crumbling away into a **black void** beneath us. The air **hummed**, vibrating through my skull like a distant scream.

And then—

**It moved.**

Something **shifted** in the darkness below, stretching, unraveling, **waking up**.

The thing the Watcher had been keeping **locked away**.

Amy gripped my arm. "Jack, what do we do?"

I didn't know.

But I knew one thing—

**We were too late.**

2

The earth **convulsed**, sending a deep, thunderous crack through the air. The sky **dimmed**, as if the sun itself was retreating.

Amy stumbled, her fingers digging into my sleeve. "Jack—"

I grabbed her, pulling her close. "We need to seal it!"

"But how?" she shouted. "The Watcher's gone! The only thing keeping it trapped is—"

She stopped.

And I knew why.

Because **nothing** was keeping it trapped anymore.

The field **lurched**, the stalks wilting into **ash**. A terrible **sound** rose from the depths below—a **low, rasping exhale**, like something taking its **first breath** in centuries.

Amy's hand **shook** in mine.

We had to try.

Even if we were too late—**we had to try.**

3

We ran.

The ground **shifted beneath us**, the town itself bending and twisting like it was **breaking apart**. The sky darkened further, the edges of reality **fraying**.

Amy clutched my arm. "The church!"

I understood immediately.

The church was **old**, built long before the town. Before the town had even been a **town**.

Maybe it was built for a reason.

Maybe it held **something that could stop this.**

We sprinted through the collapsing field, the air **thick with dust and decay**. The town loomed ahead, barely holding together as the streets **fractured**.

We weren't just running through Harrow anymore.

We were running through the **remains of its prison**.

And it was **falling apart.**

4

The church doors **slammed open** as we barreled inside.

Dust filled the air. The pews were cracked and rotting, the altar **blackened** as if burned. The place felt… **emptied**.

Like something had **already left.**

Amy skidded to a stop. "Jack…"

Her voice was small.

Defeated.

I turned toward the altar—and **froze**.

There, **written in deep, jagged carvings**, was a message.

**IT IS NO LONGER HERE.**

My heart **stopped**.

Amy took a step back, shaking her head.

We weren't just too late.

**The thing had already escaped.**

5

The walls **shook**, the floorboards groaning beneath us. I could feel it—**the presence was no longer below us.**

It was **above.**

Around.

Amy's breath hitched. "Jack, we need to leave. Now."

I nodded, grabbing her hand.

We **ran**.

6

The town was **gone**.

Or at least, it was no longer what it had been. The streets **coiled and twisted**, stretching into impossible angles, the houses **shifting** like they were alive.

And at the center of it all—

A **shadow**, vast and shapeless, unraveling into the sky.

It wasn't chasing us.

It didn't have to.

Because it was **everywhere.**

Amy yanked me toward the road. "Jack, move!"

I didn't hesitate.

We ran.

7

The world **blurred** around us, warping into shapes that didn't make sense. The further we got from the town's center, the more things **cracked apart**.

The road.

The houses.

The **sky**.

Like the town had been nothing more than a thin **shell**, holding something **else** inside.

And now that shell was **breaking open**.

8

The **Welcome to Harrow** sign loomed ahead, barely standing.

Amy gritted her teeth. "Almost there!"

I didn't look back.

I couldn't.

Because if I did, I might see **what had been watching us all along.**

We sprinted through the sign—

And the world **snapped back into place.**

9

We **collapsed** onto the empty road, gasping for breath.

The town was **gone**.

Not destroyed.

Not abandoned.

Just… **gone.**

Nothing but empty fields stretched behind us. No houses. No streets. No Watcher.

Harrow had never been a town.

It had been a **prison**.

And now—

It was **open**.

Amy's voice was barely a whisper. "Jack… what did we let out?"

I didn't answer.

Because I knew, deep in my gut—

We weren't meant to know.

And **it wasn't done watching us.**

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