We left the inn under the cover of darkness. The rain had stopped, but the air was thick with mist, shrouding the woods in an eerie stillness. She led the way, her steps precise and silent, as if she had walked this path a thousand times before.
“Why are you helping me?” I asked, breaking the silence.
She didn’t look back. “Who said I was helping?”
I frowned, quickening my pace to match hers. "Then why bother? Why lead me out here?"
Her laugh was sharp, cutting through the oppressive quiet. "Because I wanted to see if you'd make it this far. So far, you're meeting my very low expectations."
I glared at her back. “You think this is a joke?”
“No,” she said, her tone suddenly serious. “But I think you’re too naïve to understand what you’re up against. You’re chasing ghosts, but they’re the ones holding the leash.”
Her words stung, but I held my ground. “If you think so little of me, why bring me at all?”
Her lips curved into a faint smirk. “Because even fools occasionally find what the wise cannot.”
The air grew colder as we pressed deeper into the woods. The trees seemed to watch us, their bark twisted into grotesque shapes.
Finally, we emerged into a clearing. At its heart stood Hyacinth’s hut.
---
The hut was a monument to decay. Its wooden walls leaned precariously, blackened with rot, and a foul odor wafted from within. Vines snaked around the structure, gripping it like a predator refusing to release its prey.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
“This is it,” she said, stopping just short of the clearing.
I stared at the hut, dread coiling in my stomach. “Hyacinth lived here?”
“Lived,” she echoed. “And died. What’s left isn’t her. It’s what she left behind.”
My fists clenched. “Why bring me here? What am I supposed to find?”
Her gaze was unreadable. “Answers. Or maybe more questions. That depends on you.”
“And you?” I asked, my voice tight. “Why are you still here?”
Her lips twitched into a faint smirk. “Curiosity. Let’s see if you’re as brave as you think you are.”
I stepped toward the hut, but her hand shot out, gripping my arm with surprising strength.
“One last thing,” she said, her voice low. “Whatever you see inside, remember this: not all truths are meant to be known. Once you know them, they can’t be forgotten—or undone.”
Her words echoed in my mind as I pushed the creaking door open.
---
The air inside the hut was suffocating, thick with the scent of mildew and decay. Dust hung in the air like a shroud, illuminated by the faint glow of my lantern. Every corner seemed alive with unseen eyes.
