Timothy's mind swirled after Josh's warning. The sun was high, but unease settled in, making it hard for him to relax. He pushed aside his thoughts and observed his surroundings, searching for signs of trouble. Everything seemed perfect. Jeremy stood peacefully by the waterfall, and Timothy sensed nothing amiss.
Mahome'i broke his reverie. "What are you thinking about?" she asked.
Timothy shared his concerns. "To be honest, Josh's words startled me. I don't see anything wrong here."
Mahome'i nodded. "I don't see anything wrong either. Perhaps it's because I've lost most of my powers and reverted to a child's form. But knowing Josh, trusting his instincts is wise."
The rest of the day passed uneventfully, but Timothy's thoughts lingered on trust. "It's hard to trust someone who doesn't trust you," he whispered to himself. Mahome'i caught the remark and smiled silently, choosing not to respond.
As night fell, they prepared to sleep at Jeremy's house, which held secrets of its own. Strange paintings adorned the walls, depicting people Mahome'i and Timothy assumed were Jeremy's relatives or ancestors. The images sparked curiosity, but for now, they remained a mystery.
Timothy lay in bed, staring at the paintings on the walls. One particular image caught his attention – an old man's portrait. For a moment, he thought he saw the subject's eye move. Then, it happened again. "What the hell is going on?" he thought, his heart racing.
Trying to remain calm, Timothy closed his eyes, pretending to sleep. The old man in the painting began to move, slowly stepping out of the frame. Timothy watched through half-closed eyes as the old man approached him, standing over him without making a sound. Expecting the worst, Timothy held his breath, but the old man merely loomed and then left, heading toward the room where Mahome'i and Josh were.
A chill ran down Timothy's spine as he realized the old man's intentions. Without hesitation, he quietly got out of bed and crept to the door, peeking through the keyhole.
The old man pushed open the door, but his movements halted mid-step, as if surprised. Timothy peeked through the keyhole, seeing that Josh was no longer in his bed. The old man entered, searching the room, before storming out and disappearing down the hallway.
Timothy hesitated, torn between following the old man or staying hidden. Before he could decide, he heard a faint clearing of the throat behind him. Josh stood there, holding Mahome'i in his arms. "Don't make a noise," he whispered, catching Timothy as he stumbled. "You'll attract the old man."
Timothy's questions were cut short. "No time for questions. Take her and hide in this room. Don't come out, no matter what you hear. Understand?" Josh's urgency was palpable as he handed Mahome'i to Timothy.
Here's the scene:
As Josh walked through the hallway, the paintings seemed to watch him, their subjects' eyes following his every move. He approached the living room, tiptoeing against the walls to avoid making a sound. From the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of the old man talking to Jeremy.
Josh focused his ears to listen in on their conversation.
"...dangerous... Why did you bring such dangerous people here?" the old man repeated.
"They were the first ones to ever acknowledge and remember me," Jeremy replied. "I'm tired of doing your bidding. I don't want to kill these people."
The old man's tone turned sinister. "What the hell are you talking about, boy? This is the way of our family. This is how we have lived for thousands and thousands of years by harvesting these people... the dead people's essence. We are able to survive. If not, we will die. Do you want to die?"
Jeremy's voice was laced with desperation. "I'm tired of living like this. I want to explore. I want to see the world before I crumble away. We are nothing but relics of the past. And we should remain in the past."
"Our family survived due to this house's properties, preserving our souls in the form of paintings," the grandfather explained. "But you're a special case, Jeremy. Your soul remains intact, allowing you to roam the world, albeit within a limited distance from the forest."
The grandfather's plea turned urgent. "We need you to help us bring in these people so we can continue to exist. Without them, we'll perish. Do you want that for your family?"
Jeremy's response was resolute. "We're already dead, Grandfather. Our time has passed. Let them be. It's okay."
The grandfather's anger flared. "What the hell are you talking about, boy? It's not okay. With enough essence, we'll regain our physical form. We can finally escape this prison and live the life you want."
Jeremy's grandfather's words hung in the air, filled with longing and desperation. "We only need the essence of a dozen more people. Don't you understand? We can live again."
"Here's a question for you, grandfather," Jeremy said. "If you get to live again, to roam the world again, what will you do? What more will you achieve? Because you're already old. If you regain your physical form, you won't have much more time to live."
"Is it because the house is trapping our souls or is it because you guys do not want to let go? You do not want to let go. Not you guys, you, grandfather, you do not want to let go. Look, only you came out today. The rest of them are tired. The rest of them are crying, saying they can't do this anymore. This has been going on for two thousand years. When will it stop?"
"And even if we try, we can't win against those people. That man... we can't win against them. I saw what he did back at the river. I saw what he did. And I'm telling you, we can't win. So let these people go. They will live in the morning. And let us just wait until our souls crumble away into dust. It is fine. Our time has long passed. Let us rest now."
The grandfather's voice rose in anger. "Never! How can I rest? I have been plotting for two thousand years, and you tell me to rest. I have been suffering, and now you want to tell me to rest. I will not rest. I will kill if I have to kill more humans. I will live again. Even if I have little time left, I will find a way to preserve my life."
"You are the reason we died. You boy. Because you brought in unwanted visitors into this house. You were the reason we died. It is all your fault."
Jeremy's response was swift. "Is that really what you think, grandfather? That we all died because of me? Is that what you think? Because I can tell you, that's only what you think. The rest of us have a different memory of how it occurred."
"Yes, I did invite strangers into our home. Yes, I did break our number one family rule. But what did you do? You tried to rape and rob them of their goods. And you know what happened? We found out that the husband was the warlock of the lands. And he killed us. Sent us to death in this house. Burned us alive in here. You could only live because this house, this house that you found in the middle of nowhere, happens to be a heroan artifact of some crazy sorcerer that left it behind decades, ages and ages ago. And it trapped our souls. And now all the surrounding area has become twisted. And we are now people that live in a twisted land. So no, grandfather, it wasn't my fault. But it was your greed that led us here and your lust."
"How could you talk to me that way, boy?" the grandfather's voice thundered. "If it wasn't for this house, we'd all be dead, burned to ashes. But we managed to live because of me. You'd forget your family for a little kindness? Did all of you forget?"
His anger intensified, and his physical form began to change. Talons replaced his fingernails, a single horn protruded from his forehead, and his eyes turned into slits. Massive black wings unfolded from his back, and a beak formed where his mouth once was.
Jeremy stared in horror as his grandfather transformed into a monstrous creature, a being from the twisted land. A single tear rolled down his cheek, and he stumbled backward, falling to the ground.
Josh sprang into action, rushing out from his hiding spot toward the transforming monster.
Jeremy moved out of the way just in time. Josh charged forward, his fist flying toward the transformed monster. The impact was deafening, throwing the creature across the room to where Jeremy had just been standing.
But the monster's body began to heal at an alarming rate, its broken back snapping back into place before Josh's eyes. The creature's head twisted 180 degrees to face Josh, its gaze cold and menacing.
"You have ruined all of my plans," the monster roared.
Josh's expression remained calm, but his mind was racing with strategies to defeat the entity. He knew his strengths and weaknesses, and he was aware that hand-to-hand combat might not be his best approach. However, he possessed a unique advantage – the power to control minds.
As he focused his thoughts, Josh's eyes shifted, his gaze locking onto the monster.
Josh's eyes transformed, his irises shimmering with an otherworldly light. Flecks of silver and indigo danced within his gaze, like stars in the night sky. "Inverted world," he whispered, and reality seemed to bend.
The room flipped, the ceiling becoming the floor and vice versa. The monster stumbled, its sense of direction disrupted by Josh's ability. It fell to the "floor," its movements clumsy and disoriented.
"You can't escape me, wraith," Josh said, his voice steady and confident. "I have killed many of you before."
With deliberate steps, Josh approached the monster, his eyes never leaving its form.
Here's the continuation:
"They must have been weak," the monster sneered, its voice dripping with contempt.
A dense aura erupted from the monster's body, a pulsating energy that pushed Josh backward. He crashed into the wall, his eyes returning to normal as the room snapped back into its natural order.
The monster rose to its feet, its gaze burning with deep-seated hatred. It began walking toward Josh, its very presence seeming to fill the air with a foul echo of resonance.
Jeremy, still hiding in the corner, was shaking with fear. The monster's approach was like a tidal wave, unstoppable and terrifying.
The monster's aura grew stronger, its malevolent energy washing over Josh like a dark tide.
Josh slowly stood up, eyeing the monster. Its body, a twisted mass of talons and dark energy, lunged forward with a swipe of its razor-sharp claws. Josh quickly dodged to the side, his movements fluid and precise.
"Decay" he muttered, as the monster unleashed a blast of dark plasma towards him. With a swift gesture, Josh conjured a shimmering barrier that absorbed the plasma, dissipating its destructive power.
The monster charged again, its talons snapping wildly. Josh weaved between the attacks, thanks to his ability to read the monster's movements. He countered with a precise strike, his fist connecting with the monster's chest.
The monster stumbled back, but its body began to shift and contort, its cells rearranging to heal the damage. Josh's eyes narrowed. "You're a resilient one, aren't you?"
The monster responded with another blast of Decay energy, but Josh was ready. A shift in the comic cycle created a pocket of reality where the energy disappeared harmlessly.
As the monster charged once more, Josh seized the opportunity to strike. With a swift combination of physical and mental attacks, he pushed the monster back, its talons flashing wildly as it tried to defend itself.
The battle raged on, with Josh using his dual pathways to stay one step ahead of the monster's relentless assault. Decay energy clashed with shields, and talons scraped against mental barriers. In the heat of the fight, Josh's eyes gleamed with an otherworldly intensity.
The battle raged on, with neither side yielding. The monster's relentless assault was matched by Josh's unwavering determination. But as the fight wore on, the monster began to tire. Its movements slowed, its attacks less precise.
A growing sense of unease crept over the monster, like a nagging feeling that something was amiss. "You..." it gasped, its voice barely audible.
Suddenly, realization dawned on its face. But it was too late. Josh stood before it, his eyes still aglow with an otherworldly intensity. One hand rested on the monster's head, the other on its chest, over its heart.
The monster's gaze locked onto Josh's, and it saw its own demise reflected back. Josh's smile was cold, calculating. "You've been fighting yourself all this time," he said, his voice dripping with conviction.
With a swift, merciless motion, Josh plunged his hand into the monster's chest, his fingers closing around its heart. The heart was a twisted, dark mass, pulsating with malevolent energy. Josh's hand closed around it, and he ripped it out, ending the monster's reign of terror.
The creature's body crumpled, lifeless, as Josh stood over it, the dark heart still clutched in his hand.
"Grandfather!" Jeremy yelled and rushed out of his hiding spot behind the armchair towards his dead grandfather.
Josh watched th scene with no hint of emotion in his eyes, he then turned around to leave but Jeremy grabbed his cuff
"Thank you." He spoke in between sobs, Josh nodded and left the sitting room.