Blood Ties

Stranger

Minutes stretched into hours as they walked deeper into the wilderness, the only sound their footsteps crunching on wet leaves and the occasional distant call of an animal. Eve's mind raced, the fragments of the old woman's words echoing in her thoughts.

The woods remember the pact. The storm has stirred them awake.

She didn't know whether she believed in the supernatural, but after what she had witnessed, it was hard to dismiss anything. The blood on the wall, the cryptic messages, and now the storm itself—everything felt too orchestrated, too deliberate. This wasn't just random chaos. This was a message.

"I think we're close," Gabriel said, breaking the silence. His voice was hoarse, his breath coming in clouds in the cold air. "I know this land. I've been here before... as a kid. There's a clearing up ahead. It's where—" He stopped himself, his words trailing off as though he were afraid to speak the rest aloud.

Eve raised an eyebrow, but she didn't press him. Whatever it was, it was clearly tied to his family, to the history he'd tried to bury.

They continued walking, the trees thinning slightly as they reached a small rise. The clearing was ahead, hidden in the shadows, but Eve could feel it. There was something there, something unnatural about the space. When they reached the edge of the clearing, she saw it—a circle of stones, arranged carefully, as if they had been placed by hands far older than hers or Gabriel's. The ground around the stones was soft, dark soil, almost as if it had been recently disturbed.

Gabriel stepped forward, his eyes scanning the stones, his face pale under the storm's wrath. "This is it. This is where the pact was made."

Eve's breath caught in her throat as she stepped closer, her fingers brushing the edges of the stones. The air around them felt thick, charged with something dark and ancient. It was as though the earth itself was holding its breath, waiting for something.

Suddenly, a noise pierced the silence—a low, guttural growl from behind them.

They both spun around, but the clearing was empty. No one was there.

Gabriel's hand shot out, grabbing Eve's arm as he pulled her back toward the trees. "We're not alone," he growled, his voice tight with urgency.

Before Eve could react, the ground beneath their feet seemed to shift. A figure emerged from the trees, tall and dark, moving with a predator's grace. It was covered in mud, its face obscured by the shadow of a hood, but there was something unmistakably familiar about the shape of its posture, the way it moved.

Then, the figure spoke, its voice a rasping whisper that sent chills down their spines.