The End of the Dream

Chapter 19

The floor you stood on was firm enough to hold your weight, but with enough give to be unsettling. It was even more unsettling when it began to shift beneath you like roiling muscle.

The walls pulsed as though with a heartbeat. The whole structure seemed to groan and quiver. Like a giant, living creature you were somehow inside of. A creature that had been twisted and warped and corrupted into something monstrous, rotting from the inside out with the gangrenous black infection.

That alone would have been horrifying enough. But along with the physical awakening came the rousing of its awareness.

You sucked in a sharp breath, hairs raising on the back of your neck. That presence—the sickening, vile malice, the seething cruelty, the hateful disdain. The whispers that made your skin crawl. The Manor... and you were right in the heart of it.

Very quietly, remaining very still, as though that would stop the Manor from noticing your presence, you asked, "where exactly are we?"

Your previous disagreement was immediately put aside. As collected as Dark appeared to remain, worry creased his brow deeply.

"I would guess that this is the deepest point that the forces here have been able to reach. This is where it has taken root. An infestation."

The vile black rot had been unpleasant to start with, overtaking and eating away at the flesh around it, but knowing what it was was worse. A wave of nausea hit you. Some of that stuff was on your clothes, on your skin.

"I don't understand. What even is it? You've called in the power of the Manor, some kind of driving, evil force, but is it—sentient? Some kind of entity?"

"No. Not sentient, not in and of itself. This world is not formed within the physical realms of space and time. It is formed of consciousness. This... infection... is a manifestation of the self-same dark urges that plague the minds of humankind."

The black substance oozed like pus around your shoes. You tried to step out of it, but there was nowhere free of its taint.

"It is sustained by pain and suffering," Dark continued, "and will push your mind to the darkest of places. It will convince you to carry out acts of selfish evil, believing they are both justified, and your own idea."

"Mark... the party. Taking Damien's body. The people who were hurt, killed, his whole twisted revenge..."

"It was his choice in the end, but yes. The Manor's influence certainly pushed him to it. And now they have become symbiotic; it gives him power, and his will gives it form."

Form. Like the monster back at the cabin. Like the monster you heard shrieking somewhere distant, but still far too close for comfort.

This was its nest.

The sensation of a thousand eyes turning on you, piercing you with pure loathing, was intense enough to crush your chest. You could barely breathe.

You didn't realise you'd dropped to one knee until you felt Dark's hand on your shoulder. "It wants the crystal."

It wanted you.

Wilford braced your other shoulder. "Hup!" he encouraged, the two of them helping you back up and steadying you on either side.

"We need to go," you said, voice strained.

Where to go was another matter. The issue of whether you should lead Dark to the core at all had never been resolved, and there was no time to get back into that now. Retreating and rethinking your approach seemed the best option, but...