Chapter 8: A Trail of Ash

They searched the village until midday, finding no people, no bodies, no sign of what had happened—except for more of the same mark, burned into doors, trees, even the ground.

"We need to leave," Julia said.

Harvey didn't argue. The weight of the silence pressed against his chest. This wasn't their home anymore.

As they turned toward the forest, something new caught his eye. A trail of blackened footprints, leading from the center of the village toward the outskirts. Unlike the other signs of decay, these were fresh.

Harvey swallowed. "We're not the only ones left."

Julia followed his gaze and shuddered. "Or something else isn't."

They exchanged a look. The answer was clear. If they wanted to know what had happened, they had to follow the trail.

And so, they did.

The footprints led them beyond the village, up the old hunting path into the hills. As they climbed higher, the air grew colder, the shadows stretching longer.

Then, they reached the end of the trail.

A single, massive stone lay in the clearing, covered in the same burning symbols they had seen in the village. And standing before it…

A figure.

Cloaked in tattered robes, its back to them, motionless.

Julia grabbed Harvey's wrist, her nails digging into his skin. "Harvey, we need to—"

The figure turned.

Its face was hidden beneath the hood, but the space where its eyes should have been glowed with a cold, unnatural light.

And then it moved.