The forbidden memory

Nathaniel's fingers trembled as they hovered over the ancient carvings in the stone. The moment he touched the wall, the cold surface seemed to hum beneath his skin, sending a jolt of electricity through his arm. The pulse of energy was faint at first, barely perceptible, but then it surged, racing up his spine and flooding his senses with a sudden rush of images, memories, and emotions.

His breath caught in his throat as flashes of faces, places, and moments exploded in his mind. The woman's face—the one he had seen in the vision earlier—now burned into his consciousness. She was standing in front of him, her face twisted in fear, her eyes wide and unblinking, as though she were trying to communicate something without speaking. But the image was fragmented, shattering into pieces and then reforming.

Suddenly, Nathaniel was no longer standing in the narrow corridor. He was somewhere else—somewhere long ago. The walls around him were different, made of old wood, worn by time, and covered in dust. There was a fire crackling in the hearth, casting flickering shadows across the room. He stood frozen, unable to move as he watched a scene unfold before him.

A man was sitting at a table, his hands trembling as he read from an old, weathered book. His features were blurred, but Nathaniel could feel his presence, his desperation. The man's eyes darted to the door, and then back to the book. There was a sense of urgency, of something deeply wrong.

"Tell me, please," the man whispered to the empty room, his voice hoarse. "Is it true? Can it really be undone?"

The words made no sense to Nathaniel. He couldn't understand the meaning, but he felt the weight behind them. They were asking something—pleading for an answer.

Suddenly, the room grew colder, and a low hum filled the air. Nathaniel turned, his heart pounding as the figure of the woman he had seen earlier appeared in the doorway. She was dressed in a flowing gown, her expression unreadable. She stepped into the room, her presence commanding attention, as though she held the answer to something unspoken.

The man looked up at her, his face pale and drawn. "I have to know," he said, voice trembling. "If we break the circle… will it destroy us all?"

The woman's eyes were filled with sorrow as she stepped closer to him. She placed a hand on the book, her fingers gently tracing the pages. "You have no choice," she whispered. "The circle must remain unbroken."

Nathaniel's heart skipped a beat. The weight of her words pressed down on him like a suffocating blanket. What circle? What had happened here? Before he could question further, the vision shifted again, blurring and twisting like a dark tornado of memories. He felt his feet leave the ground, and the room around him spun.

A flash of fire. A scream. The sound of something heavy falling to the ground. Then, silence.

Nathaniel gasped, breaking free from the vision. His hand was still pressed against the stone wall, his body shaking as he tried to regain his bearings. The corridor was silent now, the rhythmic tapping of footsteps that had haunted him earlier gone. He took a step back, but his legs felt unsteady, his mind still trapped in the fog of the memory. He knew there was something crucial hidden in what he had just seen—something that tied him to this place, to this cursed history.

He tried to shake the image of the woman from his mind, but it lingered, her sorrowful eyes burning into his thoughts. The man's desperation echoed in his ears, and the words The circle must remain unbroken kept repeating in his mind like a chant.

"What is this place?" Nathaniel muttered under his breath, his voice trembling as he stared at the stone walls. "What did they do?"

Suddenly, the air around him grew colder, the temperature dropping rapidly. His breath became visible in the chill, and he shivered as a strange whispering filled the air. The whispers were faint at first, but they grew louder, more insistent, as though they were speaking directly into his mind.

Nathaniel…

The voice was familiar, but he couldn't place it. It echoed in the empty corridor, reverberating off the stone walls.

Nathaniel… You have to understand…

He turned in a circle, trying to find the source, but there was nothing—only the endless darkness and the oppressive silence. The whispers seemed to come from all around him, surrounding him in a cocoon of sound that made his skin crawl.

You must remember…

Nathaniel clenched his fists, trying to block out the voices, but they were relentless. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest as the whispers grew louder, more urgent.

The ritual… the blood… it's the only way.

He staggered backward, his mind whirling as the words crashed over him. He had heard these things before, in fragments, in dreams—whispers from the shadows, from the people who had come before him. The ritual. The blood. He was connected to it somehow, but how?

As the whispers reached a crescendo, he felt something shift in the air, a sudden pull in the darkness. A door—hidden in plain sight—slowly creaked open behind him. The cold wind from beyond rushed into the corridor, carrying with it the scent of decay and death. A dark shape emerged from the shadows, moving with an unnatural fluidity. Nathaniel didn't have time to react before the figure was upon him.

It was the woman again—the one from the visions. Her pale, drawn face was now a twisted mask of sorrow and fury. Her eyes, those deep, blood-red eyes, locked onto his, and for a moment, everything went silent.

Then, with a voice that sounded like the rasping of a thousand voices, she spoke. "You've seen too much, Nathaniel. You've crossed the threshold. There is no turning back."

Nathaniel's heart raced as he stumbled backward, his breath coming in shallow gasps. He didn't understand what she meant, but he could feel it—something terrible was happening, something far worse than anything he had imagined. The ritual, the bloodline, the shadows—it was all real, and he was now at the center of it all.

The woman raised her hand, her fingers long and pale, and the darkness around them thickened, swirling like a living thing. "You are part of the circle now, Nathaniel. And the price for breaking it has already been paid."

The ground beneath his feet trembled, and the whispers rose again, louder, more frantic.

Run, Nathaniel… or it will claim you too.

The woman's lips curled into a cold smile as the shadows reached out to claim him.