Beneath The Circle

They didn't speak much on the walk to the forest.

What was there to say? Rose was gone. The sky was still black. And the number carved into the church wall—NINE REMAIN—wasn't just a message. It was a countdown. A promise.

They moved together, flashlights sweeping across the silent town. No one stepped outside. No one helped. Windows were locked. Curtains drawn.

"We're not getting out of this place, are we?" John whispered.

"No," Barto answered, flat. "Not unless we destroy the root."

The forest loomed at the edge of town, trees twisted and tall. As they entered, the air shifted again—like walking into another world. The wind didn't blow here. No insects. No animals. Just the creak of bark and the crunch of dead leaves.

"We should be near the center," Ellie said, checking the compass app on her phone. "The town blueprints from the archive showed a stone formation here. It's called 'The Circle.'"

It wasn't far.

Soon they saw it: a wide clearing surrounded by twelve standing stones, weathered with time, each marked with symbols in a language none of them could read.

The center was a pit.

A perfect circle, cut into the earth. Four feet deep. Ten feet across.

The soil inside was black and cracked—like it had been scorched.

"This is it," Sofia said. "Where they performed the sacrifices."

They all stared at it in silence.

Then the fog rolled in. Fast.

Within seconds, it swallowed the trees. The temperature dropped so sharply their breath came out in thick puffs.

The shadows moved between the stones.

"Something's here," Bryan said, backing up.

No one had to ask what.

The man with no voice stepped into the clearing from behind one of the stones. He didn't walk. He floated an inch above the ground, his hat casting a long, impossible shadow.

His skin rippled like a water surface. No mouth. No nose. Just smooth, pale flesh.

His eyes burned.

Bright red.

Then came the voices—not from him, but from the pit.

"You are nine. The circle must balance. The rhythm must return."

And then… the dirt inside the pit cracked open.

Something began to crawl out.

It wasn't human.

Too many arms. Too many joints. Its skin looked stitched together, a patchwork of faces and limbs. Its head turned full circle with a sickening snap.

Dami screamed. "What the hell is that?"

Barto didn't blink. "A collection. A memory of all they sacrificed."

The creature lunged.

John shoved Sofia out of the way, but he wasn't fast enough. One of the arms grabbed his shoulder, yanked him up off the ground. He kicked and screamed as the thing pulled him toward the pit.

"NO!" Ellie cried.

Bryan swung the fire extinguisher into the creature's arm—it barely flinched. Barto ran forward, slammed a crowbar into the arm's joint. With a wet snap, it dropped John—but he was already bleeding badly, his face white.

"Get him out of here!" Barto yelled.

Ellie and Sofia dragged John back into the trees, while Dami tossed a bottle of lighter fluid into the pit and lit a match.

The flames caught. The creature screeched—a sound that shook the forest. The stones began to pulse with red light.

"Destroy the symbols!" Barto shouted.

Bryan smashed a stone with a sledgehammer they'd taken from the church. Cracks ran down its side, the red glow dimming.

Another stone shattered.

The creature wailed and began to shrink, its limbs folding inward, its body collapsing into itself like a dying star.

The man with no voice watched… unmoving.

As the fifth stone fell, he finally reacted.

He opened his arms—wide—and from the darkness behind him, dozens of figures began to appear.

Tall. Thin. Faceless.

One for each person the town had ever sacrificed.

They stepped out from the trees and surrounded the clearing.

"They're here to protect it," Ellie said, clutching a broken stone.

Sofia helped Barto up. "We can't win this fight."

"No," he agreed. "But we can finish it."

Barto pulled a small box from his backpack. It was metal, carved with symbols Ellie had deciphered earlier. Inside was a single red vial.

"Blood of the last willing," he said.

"It's what started this. Maybe it's what ends it."

"Who's the last?" Bryan asked.

"I am."

Sofia grabbed his arm. "Don't you dare."

He looked at her. And for the first time, there was hesitation in his eyes.

"You're not a sacrifice," she said. "You're the one breaking the chain."

Behind them, John groaned. Still alive. Barely.

The creatures stepped closer.

Barto poured the vial into the pit. The liquid hissed, glowing bright crimson. The ground shook.

The stones screamed.

The man with no voice staggered, his arms twitching. His shadow burned away.

The pit exploded in light.

Every figure—every ghost, every sacrifice—began to fade. One by one.

The man with no voice crumbled.

And then…

Silence.

Real silence.

Above them, the sky turned. Slowly.

And for the first time in what felt like forever…

The sun began to rise.

⸻

But deep beneath the pit, buried in the earth…

Something stirred.

Something… not yet dead.