956: Story 956: The Forsaken Girl 956: Story 956: The Forsaken Girl The Graveborn knelt, their hollow eyes staring into nothingness.
A chill crept over the courtyard as the Gatekeeper lowered its staff, its skeletal mask emotionless.
Mira clutched the Cursed Book, her pulse hamring.
“Who is the Forsaken Girl?”
The Gatekeeper’s voice was a slow, grating whisper.
“The one who waits.
The one who weeps.
The one who must never wake.”
Draven tightened his grip on his shotgun.
“That doesn’t answer anything.”
Elias eyed the manor’s open doors, the candlelight inside flickering like dying souls.
“I’m guessing we’re supposed to go inside.”
Zara muttered, “Of course we are.”
The Gatekeeper stepped aside, gesturing toward the entrance.
“The House rembers.
The House watches.”
A howl echoed in the distance.
The fog at the gate shifted—sothing was coming.
Draven sighed.
“Fine.
We go.”
They stepped inside.
The air changed instantly.
Inside the Hollow Manor, ti felt distorted.
The walls stretched unnaturally, the shadows crawling like living things.
The scent of decay and old books filled the air.
At the far end of the hall, a staircase spiraled upward, disappearing into darkness.
A soft sobbing sound drifted down from above.
Mira swallowed.
“She’s here.”
A portrait lood on the wall.
A girl, no older than ten, sat in an ornate black dress, her eyes a milky white void.
Chains bound her wrists and ankles, but her lips curled in a secretive smile.
Zara exhaled.
“That’s her, isn’t it?”
Before Mira could answer, the house trembled.
The walls cracked.
The whispers grew frantic.
And from the shadows, sothing crawled forth.
A figure—wrong in every way.
It was twisted and emaciated, its arms too long, fingers ending in blackened claws.
Its head tilted unnaturally, and its mouth… it had no mouth, just an endless void of writhing tendrils.
It lunged.
Draven fired.
The blast hit but did nothing—the creature didn’t bleed, didn’t flinch.
It grabbed Elias by the throat, lifting him off the ground.
His skin began to blacken, veins turning to ink.
Mira scread, flipping through the Book.
“There’s a seal!
A ward—we can—”
A child’s voice rang out.
“Leave him.”
The creature froze.
At the top of the stairs stood a girl in a tattered dress, her hair a curtain of shadow.
Her eyes were pure white, her lips stitched shut—yet she had spoken.
The creature dropped Elias, retreating into the dark like a dog obeying its master.
The girl stepped forward, her feet hovering just above the ground.
The air humd with unnatural power.
She raised a small, trembling hand and pointed at Mira.
“You brought the Book.”
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