Chapter 4: Shadow of a doubt

Donovan West's footsteps echoed down the empty corridor of Noctis Sanctum 13 in a routine he had performed hundreds of times before, the facility's cold walls almost suffocating him as he made his rounds. He didn't remember them ever being this oppressive. Perhaps it was just him—just his mind playing tricks again.

He had been struggling with his thoughts recently, something he hadn't confided in anyone. The mental checks were supposed to ensure that exorcists and workers weren't compromised by the very entities they sought to contain, but Donovan knew better. His mind had always been a maze of doubts, thoughts creeping through cracks that no test could detect.

Not since 'chamber 9' had started whispering to him.

As he turned another corner, the dim lighting of the facility cast eerie shadows along the stone floor. It was late, and most of the staff had already retired for the night, leaving him alone in the sprawling labyrinth of containment cells. Donovan had taken to doing his checks at night, though he never admitted why.

'Shit... you're not afraid,' he told himself, trying to calm his nerves. 'You're just… curious.'

Curiosity had always been his greatest strength and his greatest weakness too. It was what drew him to apply to be posted to Noctis Sanctum 13 years ago, where the most dangerous beings were held, while other acolytes opted for more combat-focused postings. And lately, it was what had drawn him to chamber 9.

A voice flickered at the edge of his mind. Faint, but undeniably clear.

'You're close now… Don.'

Donovan stopped abruptly. His heart raced as the familiar voice echoed through his mind. It was faint, yet distinct. 'chamber 9's' presence lingered like an invisible hand guiding his steps, urging him forward.

He had felt the eldritch creature before, whispering when no one else could hear, teasing his thoughts, planting seeds of doubt and wonder. There was something about 'chamber 9'—something different from the other beings in the Sanctum.

'You're curious about a lot, aren't you?' the voice purred. 'You wonder what I am, what I could show you. I could show you the truth, Don.'

Donovan bit his lip, forcing himself to move. He was here for routine checks, nothing more. Zez'Thorah's chamber wasn't even on his list tonight.

But he kept walking toward it anyway.

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Noctis Sanctum was vast, a towering fortress of stone and steel, buried deep underground to protect the world from the eldritch horrors contained within. The facility had been built centuries ago by an ancient order of exorcists, in fact, some of the other sanctums have been around for thousands of years. Its purpose? To contain and study the abominations that plagued the world. Over time, it had grown, expanded, and become a refuge for both knowledge and darkness.

Donovan had been here for years, but the longer he stayed, the more the place seemed to change. What once felt like a sanctuary had now become a prison for both the monsters and the exorcists alike. He wasn't sure if it was Noctis Sanctum changing, or if it was him.

The exorcists, unlike the other workers, underwent deeper mental evaluations. Donovan had just passed one, barely. Each time, it felt like they were stripping away parts of him, searching for signs of corruption. He could feel their eyes on him, always watching, waiting for him to slip. The pressure weighed heavily on his shoulders.

As Donovan reached the sealed chamber 9, he stopped, hesitated briefly but then unlocked the thick steel door and stepped in. The black amber shimmered under the faint light that illuminated the room, an unnatural material that hummed with suppressed power. The entities prison, 'holy shit it's huge. How big is the create' he thought to himself. The creature had been sealed here for centuries, trapped by the hands of one of the greatest exorcists to have lived, Seb Knov.

Donovan had studied Knov's works in the archives. A hero, they called him. But why had 'chamber 9' been only sealed? Why wasn't it destroyed or banished? Perhaps it was impossible at the time. The legends spoke of an ancient evil, but the voice that whispered to Donovan didn't feel like mindless evil, no. It was something more—something vast, calculating.

'I could teach you so much, Don…'

The voice slithered into his mind once again. His hands clenched into fists as he tried to block it out, but it was no use. 'Chamber 9's' influence was everywhere now, seeping into his dreams, his thoughts, the very air around him.

' wh- what are you?' Donovan whispered aloud, his voice trembling.

The amber pulsed faintly in response. Donovan took a step closer, his heartbeat quickening. He knew he shouldn't be here. He should report back to his superiors, and have them inspect the seal. But he couldn't.

Not yet.

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Hours passed, but Donovan couldn't tear himself away from the chamber. He had sat down against the cold wall, his back to 'chamber 9's' prison, his mind racing with different thoughts. The weight of his duty, the mental checks, the secrecy of Noctis Sanctum—it was all too much.

'I could end it,' 'chamber 9' whispered. 'I could release you from this burden. You feel it, don't you? The pressure, the lies they feed you… They don't understand the truth, they know nothing. But I do.'

Donovan closed his eyes, he was exhausted at this point. He had been fighting this for weeks, ever since that first whisper entered his mind during a routine shift. He had been strong at first, dismissing the voice as some trick of the mind, after all, some active entities played mind games on people here. But now…

Now, he wasn't so sure.

'What truth?' Donovan muttered under his breath, more to himself than to the entity.

The chamber was silent, but Donovan could feel 'chamber 9's' presence pressing against him, a weight in his mind.

'The truth about who I am… the truth about this world. They've kept it from you, Don. But I can show you. You can finally see.'

Trust. The word echoed through Donovan's mind. The exorcists had always taught that trust was reserved for the light, for the pure powers that they wielded against the darkness. But standing here, alone in the bowels of Noctis Sanctum, he wasn't sure anymore.

'Show me.'

The words slipped from his lips before he could stop them.

"Shit....shit....shit....shit." He had fucked up, he had just given the entity full permission into his consciousness.

The amber pulsed, this time more intensely. Donovan's pulse quickened in response. He rose to his feet, turning to face the prison once again. For a moment, he thought he saw movement—a flicker of something beneath the surface of the black amber.

Then came the voice again, low and almost triumphant.

'I knew you would see it… soon, Don. You and I, we're connected now. You'll understand everything in time. My name is Zez'Thorah'

With the full name of the entity planted into his mind, Donovan staggered back, the realization hitting him all at once. He had already crossed the line. Zez'Thorah's influence had seeped deeper into him than he had ever realized. There was no going back now.

But did he even want to?

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The next few days passed in a blur. Donovan went through the motions—performing his duties, and interacting with his colleagues—but his mind was elsewhere. The whispers had grown more frequent, more insistent. Every time he closed his eyes, he could feel Zez'Thorah's presence, lurking just at the edges of his consciousness.

The other exorcists didn't seem to notice. They went about their tasks as usual, preparing for the next round of mental checks, unaware of the storm brewing within one of their own.

Donovan was no fool. He knew what would happen if the others found out—what they would do if they suspected he had been compromised. Exorcists who failed the mental checks were… removed. Quietly. Permanently. Noctis Sanctum did not tolerate weakness, not when the stakes were this high.

'Shit, I've really gotta be careful,' Donovan thought to himself, trying to suppress the growing panic. 'I can't let them know.' He whispered with a gentle sigh.

But Zez'Thorah's voice was always there, just beneath the surface, always whispering.

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A few days later,

After another restless shift, Donovan found himself standing inside Zez'Thorah's chamber once more in the pretense of an internal chamber check, an excuse he had used when queried about entering chamber 9. The black amber shimmered as it always did, but this time, there was something different. Something more.

The seal was weakening.

Donovan could feel it, a subtle shift in the air around the chamber. The black amber wasn't as solid as it had been. Zez'Thorah's power was seeping through, inch by inch, and with it came the growing certainty that the entity was preparing for something.

'Soon,' Donovan whispered to himself. 'It's going to happen soon.'

Zez'Thorah's voice returned, low and ominous, but laced with anticipation.

'Yes, Don. Soon. Very soon.'

In the heart of Noctis Sanctum, Donovan's descent had begun.