Ash and smoke filled the air, thick enough to choke on. Aria stumbled between the trees, coughing hard, her eyes burning from the heat and soot. The sting in her lungs persisted even after she pulled her scarf over her nose. The forest around her was on fire.
Just hours ago, it had been peaceful. A small camping trip—just her, Jordan, and a few others from the media team. They had planned it as a short break from the city. One weekend. Some photos. A little quiet.
But that calm night had turned into a nightmare.
The fire didn't spread like a normal one. Fast and wild, it had exploded when an odd wind blew through the woods. She was cooking marshmallows beneath the stars one moment, and then everything became loud and red the next. The ground shook. Trees lit up in seconds. Flames jumped high, like they were alive.
"Aria!" someone shouted.
She spun around. That was Jordan's voice—somewhere behind her.
"Jordan!" she called back, voice hoarse.
No answer.
She tried to push toward the sound, but her body was near breaking. Her soaked boots were heavy from the stream she'd crossed earlier. Her legs burned from running. Branches scratched at her jacket. The heat behind her was growing again—too close.
Suddenly, a loud crack echoed behind her.
She froze.
"Who is there?" In an attempt to remain composed, she called out.
No reply. Just the rustle of leaves and the faraway roar of the fire.
Then—movement. Something passed between the trees. A tall shadow. Not human. Not even close.
Her heart pounded. She grabbed and switched on the little torch that was fastened to her backpack. There was nothing there, yet a slender shaft of light pierced the haze.
Still, she felt it. Eyes. Watching her. Not angry. Not friendly either. Just… aware. Like something old had opened its eyes.
The light in her hand flickered, then steadied. She turned in slow circles, trying to see. Still nothing.
She should have turned back. Gone uphill. Found the others.
But instead, she kept moving forward—down the slope.
A mistake.
The ground shifted. Then cracked beneath her feet.
She dropped.
There was no time to scream.
She fell hard. Her shoulder hit first. Then her back slammed into the ground. Pain exploded in her wrist as she tried to break the fall. She gasped, dust and grit in her mouth.
Then silence.
She lay there for a long second, coughing. Earth crumbled from above, falling around her. Everything was dark. Too dark.
Her ribs ached. Her left leg throbbed. But she was alive.
High above, the forest still burned. She could hear faint shouts, trees splitting, fire hissing—but it was all muffled. Like someone had wrapped the world in a thick blanket.
She forced herself to sit up. Her arm throbbed sharply. Her wrist—sprained or maybe worse.
Her flashlight had landed nearby. She crawled to it and clicked it back on.
And what she saw made her forget the pain.
This wasn't a ditch or a pit. The walls around her weren't dirt—they were stone. Old stone. Carved, cracked, but solid. Patterns ran along the surface—curves, lines, symbols. Dozens of them, each carefully etched.
Some were smooth and looping. Others sharp, like fangs.
But one symbol stood out.
A crescent moon, held inside a jagged ring. It shone dimly in her light, bigger than the others. Even though the remainder of the wall appeared old, the stone it was carved into had a reddish color, as if it had just been cut.
She blinked. Had it just pulsed? Like a heartbeat?
She moved closer. Shining her light. The symbol looked… wet. Almost alive. The lines were deeper than the others, like they were cut recently.
The air around it buzzed. Not loud, just a faint hum. But it sank into her bones.
Her breath quickened.
She should climb out. Call for help. Try to escape.
But something held her there. A pull.
Not a voice. Not words. Just a feeling. Like something calling to her—not cruel, not kind. Just waiting.
Her hand moved toward the symbol before she could stop it. The space between her and the mark felt heavy, like pushing through water.
Don't touch it. The thought was loud in her mind.
But she did.
The moment her fingers brushed the mark, the stone shook beneath her.
A shock ran through her. From fingers to spine.
And then—
The light went out.