Heaven: A Maiden's Curse

07 - The Cry Of The Unseen

The air was heavier now. Every breath I took felt like it carried a weight, pressing on my chest. The deeper we ventured into West Grimvale, the more oppressive the atmosphere became. Around us, shadows lingered like silent sentinels, their forms flickering and shifting in the dim light. They felt different now—not just eerie, but alive, watching.

"I see them," I said, my voice breaking the silence. "More than before."

The woman didn't even glance my way. She kept walking, her posture rigid and her eyes scanning the path ahead.

"They're crying," I continued, my frustration growing. "Begging for help. They're not just shadows; they're—"

"Spirits," she interrupted coldly. "Fragments of what they used to be. Don't waste your energy on them."

Her words stung, but I couldn't let them go. "They're not just fragments. They're people. They were alive. Like us."

"Not anymore," she said, her voice as sharp as the brittle wind. "They're nothing now."

I clenched my fists, but she didn’t notice. Or maybe she didn’t care.

---

The shadows grew bolder as we moved deeper. They edged closer, their forms twisting and trembling like they were caught between worlds. One broke away from the others, drifting toward me. Its voice was faint, trembling with a fear I couldn’t understand.

“She’ll know…” it rasped. “She’ll… make it worse.”

I froze. "Who?"

The shadow recoiled, as if the very thought of answering hurt it. “Her name…” it whispered. “Her name… will bring her here.”

“She?” I turned to the woman. “Hyacinth?”

The shadow flinched violently. The mention of her name seemed to trigger something—a sudden, agonizing reaction. Its form flickered and warped, and an unnatural scream tore through the air.

“What’s happening to it?” I asked, panic rising in my chest.

The woman’s expression hardened. “They’re cursed. Saying her name without permission triggers their punishment. That’s why they’ve stayed silent until now.”

I looked back at the shadow as it writhed, its shape dissolving like smoke in the wind. “Who did this to you?” I asked desperately.

Another shadow, smaller and weaker, stepped forward. Its voice cracked with every word. “We tried… to fight her. To stop her. But she—”

“She broke us,” another interrupted. Its voice was barely a whisper, filled with unbearable pain. “Took our lives… and twisted them. This is what’s left.”

My stomach turned as more voices joined in, a chorus of fragmented confessions.

“She doesn’t just kill.”
“She tortures.”
“She makes you suffer.”
“And when she’s done… you’re nothing but this.”

I glanced at the woman. Her face was unreadable, but I thought I saw something flicker in her eyes—an emotion buried too deep to name.

“Why are they talking now?” I asked, more to myself than to her. “They’ve never said this much before.”

“You,” she said simply, her eyes narrowing as she studied me.

“What?”

“You’re connected to them. Maybe it’s the journal, or maybe it’s…” She grabbed my arm suddenly, lifting it toward the dim light.

I flinched at the sight. Dark veins were crawling up my wrist, spreading like cracks in glass.

“It’s the curse,” she muttered. “It’s already starting.”

I yanked my arm back. “I know,” I said, my voice sharper than I intended. “But I’m not stopping. I need answers.”

The shadows pressed closer, their forms trembling like they were barely holding together.

“Don’t… let her… touch you,” one of them warned.

“She’ll… take everything,” another added.

They explained that Hyacinth’s touch would fully bind the curse, trapping me in her control. I shivered at the thought but pushed it aside. “Why me?” I asked aloud. “Why can I hear you?”

The shadows didn’t answer, their voices fading into uneasy silence.

---

As we prepared to leave the area, one shadow lingered. Its form was more stable than the others, and its voice carried a quiet resolve.

“My name…” it began hesitantly. “My name is… Forge.”

The name jolted something in me, though I couldn’t place why. “Forge?” I repeated, looking at the woman. “Does that name mean anything to you?”

Her face didn’t change, but I noticed the way her hands clenched into fists. She turned away. “It doesn’t matter,” she said curtly.

“It does,” I pressed. “He’s not leaving. He wants me to tell you something.”

The shadow drifted closer, its voice soft but insistent. “Tell her… I’m here. Tell her… I tried.”

I hesitated, then turned back to her. “He says he tried. To protect you.”

For the first time, her mask cracked. Her shoulders tensed, and her voice trembled. “Who is he?”

I looked at the shadow. Its form flickered, struggling to hold together. “Your father,” it said.

The words hit her like a blow. She spun around, her cold demeanor melting into raw shock. “What did you say?”

“Forge,” it said again, quieter this time. “Your father.”

She took a step toward the shadow, her hands shaking. “Father…” she whispered, her voice breaking.

The shadow’s edges flickered, and it seemed to reach for her, though its form faltered. “I’m sorry,” it said. “I couldn’t… protect you. Or your family.”

Tears filled her eyes, but she wiped them away quickly, as if refusing to show weakness. “You shouldn’t be here,” she said, her voice laced with bitterness. “You shouldn’t be this.”

The shadow hesitated. “Hyacinth… it was her. She… took everything. I tried to stop her. But I failed.”

Her knees buckled, and she sank to the ground, her fists clenched tightly. “You didn’t fail,” she whispered, though her voice wavered. “You just… you couldn’t stop her.”

The shadow began to fade, its form unraveling like smoke.

“Her goals… they’re beyond what you know,” it said. “But you must stop her. Protect her.”

It gestured toward the woman before finally disappearing.

---

Silence hung heavy between us. She stood slowly, her face a mask of cold determination once more.

“Hyacinth will pay for this,” she said, her voice trembling with suppressed rage. “For him. For my family. For everyone she’s hurt.”

I nodded, though unease gnawed at the edges of my resolve. The shadow’s final warning echoed in my mind: Her goals… they’re beyond what you can imagine.

As we resumed our search, I couldn’t help but wonder how much more we’d have to sacrifice before this nightmare ended.