Story 289: The Forsaken Refuge

As dawn broke, Damien and Mira stumbled upon a crumbling cathedral tucked deep in the wilderness, a relic of a time before the apocalypse. Ivy crawled up its stone walls, weaving through shattered stained glass, casting shards of colored light across the silent forest floor. The air felt heavy here, almost sacred, as if the place itself still whispered old prayers for mercy and protection.

“This looks… safe?” Mira ventured, uncertainly gazing up at the towering structure.

Damien shook his head. “It feels too quiet.” He scanned the surroundings, hand hovering over his blade, instinctually cautious.

They moved inside, finding the pews coated in dust, echoes of past lives hovering in the stale air. A golden altar lay cracked but still held traces of its former glory, candles melted into grotesque shapes from days long past. Damien’s gaze caught a shadow shifting near the altar, something or someone lurking.

A hoarse voice broke the silence. “Not many make it this far.”