Asher's breath came fast, his heart hammering against his ribs like a caged animal. The burn on his ankle throbbed, sending sharp pulses of heat through his veins, as if the mark had a life of its own. The creatures below had stopped moving. They lingered in the mist, heads tilted, their hollow faces turned toward him.
Waiting.
Asher shuddered and tore his gaze away. The survivors had put distance between themselves and him, their fear palpable. Even Jeremy, usually a rock, had hesitated before stepping closer.
That hesitation hurt more than the mark itself.
The bearded man—who still hadn't offered his name—spoke first. His voice was like gravel, worn down and dry. "You need to leave."
Asher blinked. "What?"
The blonde woman, her knife still clutched in a white-knuckled grip, nodded. "We can't have someone cursed among us. They'll come for you."
Asher's gut twisted. "I didn't ask for this."
"And we didn't ask to be trapped in this hellhole," she snapped. "But we're here. And we're not dying because of you."
Jeremy, still pale, finally found his voice. "No one's dying. We're not throwing him out there."
The bearded man exhaled, rubbing his temples. "Listen, kid—"
"Asher," Jeremy interrupted. "His name is Asher. And you?"
The man's tired eyes flickered. "Cole."
Jeremy crossed his arms. "Well, Cole, Asher and I aren't going anywhere."
Cole studied him for a long moment, then sighed. "Fine. But if the creatures come for him, we won't save him."
Jeremy scoffed. "I'd like to see you try and stop me."
Cole gave a dry, humorless chuckle. "You got guts, kid. Let's hope they stay inside you."
Night Falls
They barricaded the entrance of the tower with broken stone and rusted weapons. The wind outside howled, carrying whispers and the occasional distant click of bone against bone.
Jeremy sat beside Asher near a dwindling fire. The others had spread out, some sitting in silence, others muttering quiet prayers.
Asher pulled up his pant leg and examined the mark again. The burned flesh had darkened into a deep, unnatural shade of black, the symbol twisting as though it were alive.
Jeremy leaned closer. "Does it hurt?"
Asher nodded. "Feels like it's inside me. Like it's… waiting."
Jeremy didn't respond right away. His ember eyes flickered in the firelight, shadows dancing across his sharp features. Then, without warning, he reached out, his fingers brushing against Asher's skin.
Asher flinched. "What are you—"
Jeremy ignored him, tracing the edges of the mark, his touch surprisingly gentle. "It's cold."
Asher exhaled shakily. "You're not scared?"
Jeremy finally looked up. "I should be."
Their faces were close now, the firelight casting everything in hues of gold and red. Jeremy's expression was unreadable, but his gaze was intense, searching. Asher's stomach twisted—not from fear, but from something else.
Something dangerous.
Something that didn't belong in a place like this.
Jeremy smirked suddenly. "You're not about to confess your undying love, are you?"
Asher snorted. "You wish."
Jeremy chuckled, low and warm. "Damn. Would've made this nightmare a little more entertaining."
Before Asher could retort, a loud thud echoed through the tower.
Everyone tensed.
The fire flickered.
Then, another thud.
And another.
Heavy. Slow.
Something was climbing the tower.
Cole grabbed his rusted sword. The blonde woman, whose name they had learned was Mara, tightened her grip on her knife. The children whimpered, their mothers pulling them close.
Jeremy was already on his feet, hands on his weapons. Asher followed suit, ignoring the way his ankle ached.
The thuds grew closer. The air grew thick, suffocating. Then—
Silence.
The fire sputtered.
Then, from above, a slow, rasping breath.
A shadow loomed at the edge of the tower's crumbling roof. Tall. Slender. Its elongated limbs hung limply at its sides. Its head—too large, too wrong—tilted as it peered down at them.
It didn't move like the others. It was slow. Curious.
And then it spoke.
Not in words, but in whispers.
Inside Asher's head.
"You are ours."
Asher gasped, stumbling back. The mark on his ankle burned.
Jeremy caught him. "Asher?"
The creature tilted its head further, as if watching.
Then, with unnatural speed, it lunged.
Cole swung his sword. The blade passed through the creature like smoke. Mara threw her knife—it embedded into its torso, but the thing didn't flinch.
It didn't care about them.
It wanted Asher.
Jeremy yanked Asher behind him, drawing his dagger. "Get back."
The creature didn't listen.
But then—
It stopped.
Something shimmered in the air between them.
The mark on Asher's ankle pulsed.
The creature hesitated, tilting its head again, then let out a guttural clicking sound. A sound almost like… approval.
Then, it retreated.
Merging with the darkness.
Leaving only the whisper behind.
"Soon."
No one slept that night.
Jeremy sat beside Asher, arms crossed. "So. That was fun."
Asher groaned. "If that's your definition of fun, remind me to never go on vacation with you."
Jeremy grinned. "Where's your sense of adventure?"
Cole cut in, his expression grim. "It didn't attack you. It… recognized you."
Asher swallowed. "I don't know why."
Mara stared at him, wary. "Maybe you should leave before we find out."
Jeremy glared at her. "Not happening."
Cole sighed, rubbing his jaw. "We need answers. And I think I know where we can get them."
Asher looked up. "Where?"
Cole pointed toward the ruins.
"The temple."
Silence fell. The temple. The heart of the city. The place where the firelight had flickered from beneath the stairs.
Jeremy groaned. "Great. We're walking into a cursed ruin for answers. Nothing could possibly go wrong."
Asher smirked. "See? Now that's adventure."
Jeremy rolled his eyes. "You're lucky you're cute."
Asher blinked.
Jeremy's smirk widened.
Asher decided he was going to ignore that.
For now.
Because as he looked toward the temple, he felt it again.
The presence.
The city wasn't abandoned.
It felt as if something was waiting for them in the shadows.
The temple stood in the distance like a slumbering beast, its cracked stone walls tangled with vines, its pillars looming high above the ruins of the city. A faint glow pulsed from beneath the stairs, flickering like a heartbeat.
Asher stood at the edge of the crumbling street, staring at it. The weight of the mark on his ankle felt heavier than before, its presence thrumming through his bones like an unspoken demand.
Jeremy nudged him with an elbow. "You look like you just realized you left the stove on."
Asher huffed. "That joke stopped being funny the first ten times."
Jeremy smirked. "I'll stop when you start laughing."
Cole cleared his throat, effectively cutting off whatever smart remark Asher had been about to make. "The temple isn't just some ruin," he said, scanning the path ahead. "It's a sanctuary. Or it was."
Mara frowned. "You mean a graveyard."
Cole's gaze darkened. "Same thing."
Silence.
The survivors who had been traveling with them had no interest in coming along. They had made it clear: the temple was a place of death, and they wanted no part in it.
But Asher knew, deep down, that he had no choice.
The city—something in the city—wanted him to come.
And he was done running.
The temple steps groaned under their weight as they ascended. Vines clung to the stone like desperate hands, and the deeper they went, the colder the air became.
Jeremy walked beside Asher, his dagger ready. "So, in case no one's said it yet—this is a terrible idea."
Asher let out a slow breath. "Noted."
"Cool. Just wanted to make sure we all acknowledge that we're probably gonna die."
Asher gave him a sidelong glance. "You really don't have an off switch, do you?"
Jeremy grinned. "Nope."
Cole hushed them both. He had taken the lead, his sharp eyes scanning the walls. "Something's watching us."
Asher tensed. "The creatures?"
Cole didn't answer right away. Instead, he pointed toward the carvings along the temple walls.
Jeremy leaned closer. "Okay. Creepy murals. Classic horror story move. What are we looking at?"
Asher stepped forward. The carvings depicted figures standing beneath an enormous shadow, their hands outstretched. At their feet, something twisted and coiled—writhing.
Mara's voice was quiet. "They're worshipping it."
A shiver crawled up Asher's spine. The figures in the carving were faceless, but one of them—standing in the center—had a symbol on its ankle.
The same mark Asher bore.
His breath caught. "This—this has to be a coincidence, right?"
Jeremy stared at him, then at the wall, then back again. "Oh, yeah. Definitely. Just a completely normal, totally-not-ominous coincidence. Happens all the time."
Mara exhaled sharply. "We should leave."
Cole shook his head. "No. We need to see what's down there."
Jeremy groaned. "Of course we do."
With no other option, they pressed forward, stepping through the massive archway that led into the temple's depths.
The moment Asher crossed the threshold, the mark on his ankle flared—hot and cold at the same time.
The ground trembled beneath them.
And then—
The torches along the walls ignited on their own.
The Keeper
The chamber was vast, stretching beyond sight. Ancient pillars loomed overhead, their surfaces etched with symbols older than language. At the far end of the hall stood a massive throne, carved from obsidian, its surface slick with something dark.
And sitting upon it—
A figure.
Tall. Unmoving. Wrapped in tattered robes that barely concealed the skeletal frame beneath. Its head was bowed, but the moment they stepped forward, it lifted its face.
It had no eyes.
Only hollow sockets, blacker than night.
The voice that followed was neither spoken nor heard. It was felt, crawling beneath their skin like ice.
"At last, you return."
Asher froze.
Jeremy, for once, was silent.
Cole tightened his grip on his sword. "Who—what—are you?"
The figure leaned forward, bones creaking. "I am the Keeper. And he…" Its hollow gaze locked onto Asher. "He is ours."
Mara stepped between them, her knife raised. "He's not yours."
The Keeper tilted its head, amused. "He bears the mark. That is enough."
Asher's heart pounded. "What does the mark mean?"
The Keeper's grin was skeletal. "It means you belong to the city. And soon… you will awaken."
Jeremy grabbed Asher's arm. "Yeah, nope. We're leaving."
The Keeper did not stop them. It only chuckled—a sound like dry leaves in the wind.
As they turned to flee, the torches flickered.
The temple doors slammed shut.
And the last thing Asher heard before darkness swallowed them—
"You cannot run from what you are."