The Beninging

Chapter 2

The rain blurred the streets as she made her way to the edge of the city, leaving behind the flickering streetlights and the haunting memories. Each step felt heavier than the last, as though the darkness within her was tethered to the city itself, refusing to let her go. But she pushed forward, driven by the priest's words and the chilling encounter with the stranger.

The mountains loomed in the distance, jagged silhouettes against the stormy sky. She would have to leave the city entirely, travel through the forests and across treacherous terrain to reach the temple. The idea of facing the unknown both terrified and compelled her. There was no going back now.

As she approached the outskirts, the voice returned, its presence like cold fingers tracing the back of her mind.

You think they will help you. They'll fear you, try to control you.

"I don't care," she muttered under her breath. "I just need it to stop."

It will never stop, the voice whispered, almost soothingly. You were chosen for a reason. You are more than they'll ever understand. You can become unstoppable, unbreakable.

She tried to block it out, focusing on the path ahead. The voice was stronger now, its influence harder to resist. But she couldn't let it win. Not yet. Not when there was still hope, however small.

The city faded behind her, swallowed by the mist and the rain. She followed the narrow road leading to the base of the mountains, her mind replaying the strange encounter with the man in black. Who was he? And how did he know about the stone?

As she climbed, her thoughts spiraled. There had to be more to this, more than just the power she felt coursing through her veins. The stranger's words echoed in her mind: the stone was just the beginning.

By the time she reached the foothills, night had fallen. The wind howled through the trees, and the rain turned to ice, stinging her skin. She found shelter beneath a rock overhang and huddled against the cold, her body aching with fatigue.

But even as exhaustion weighed on her, the voice inside her whispered incessantly.

You feel it, don't you? The power. It's growing, feeding on your fear. Let it in. Let it take you.

"No," she whispered fiercely. "I'm in control."

The voice laughed, a soft, mocking sound. Control? You don't even know what you're dealing with.

She closed her eyes, trying to steady her breath. She had to hold on. She couldn't give in.

The night passed slowly, each minute a battle to maintain her sanity. When dawn finally broke, casting a pale light over the mountains, she forced herself to move, climbing higher into the craggy peaks.

As she ascended, the landscape grew more desolate. The path was barely visible, obscured by jagged rocks and steep cliffs. Her legs burned with the effort, but she pressed on, driven by the promise of salvation.

Hours passed, and the sun began to dip toward the horizon once more when she finally saw it—high above, perched on the edge of a cliff, was the temple.

It was ancient, built into the mountain itself, its stone walls weathered by time. A massive, arched entrance loomed ahead, flanked by statues of creatures she didn't recognize—beasts with wings and claws, their eyes hollow and lifeless.

Her heart pounded as she approached the entrance. She felt a pull, like the temple itself was calling to her, drawing her in.

The voice in her mind grew louder, almost desperate. You don't know what you're walking into. Turn back now, before it's too late.