Day 11: The Next Gift

The knowledge of what the curse demanded weighed heavily on Eira as she woke the next morning. The words of the binding spell echoed in her mind: "Only through blood can the curse be undone. The blood of the living shall free the spirit of the dead." She had always known the curse was tied to her family, but now the truth was undeniable: her blood was the key to breaking it.

She stared at the ceiling, the fear curling around her heart. How could she do it? How could she knowingly walk toward a fate that meant giving up her life? But if she didn’t... more people would die. The disciples wouldn’t stop. Evandra’s vengeance would keep growing, consuming Thornwick one life at a time.

Eira pulled herself from bed, her body heavy with the weight of the decision she had to make. She dressed quickly and headed outside, the cold air biting at her face as she made her way toward the square to meet Lucas. Today felt different—darker. The ever-present clouds seemed lower, pressing down on the town, and the air was thick with something sinister, like the curse itself was tightening its grip.

When she reached the square, Lucas was already there, pacing nervously. His eyes were shadowed with worry, and he looked up sharply when he saw her approaching.

"Anything?" Eira asked, though she already knew the answer.

Lucas shook his head. "No sign of another disappearance. But that just makes me more nervous. It’s like they’re waiting for something."

Eira nodded. She had the same feeling. The disciples were biding their time, waiting for the solstice to make their final move.

But even as the words left her mouth, Eira felt it—a subtle shift in the air, a feeling of being watched.

Her heart quickened. "Something’s wrong."

Lucas turned toward her, frowning. "What do you mean?"

Before she could answer, a soft, familiar sound echoed through the square.

The chime of the blackened Christmas bell.

The Twisted Present

Eira’s blood ran cold as the bell’s eerie sound filled the air. They had heard it before—each time, it had signaled the appearance of another twisted gift. And each time, the gift had marked the next victim.

They both turned toward the source of the sound, their eyes widening as they saw it—a small, neatly wrapped box sitting on the edge of the well, tied with a black ribbon. The box was similar to the ones they had found before, its surface carved with strange, dark symbols that seemed to pulse with energy.

Eira’s heart pounded in her chest. "Another one."

Lucas’s face paled as he approached the well, his hands trembling as he reached for the box. "What do you think it means?"

Eira shook her head, fear twisting in her stomach. "We’re about to find out."

Lucas untied the ribbon and slowly lifted the lid. Inside was a single, delicate object—a small, silver locket. It was old, its surface tarnished, but Eira recognized it instantly. Her breath caught in her throat as she reached for it, her fingers trembling.

"It’s mine," she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Lucas stared at her, his eyes wide with shock. "Yours?"

Eira nodded, her heart pounding. "It belonged to my mother. She gave it to me when I was a child... before she died."

She opened the locket, revealing a tiny photograph of her parents inside, faded with age. The sight of it made her heart ache. She hadn’t worn the locket in years—it had been packed away with her mother’s things after her death. But now, here it was, left in a cursed box as a twisted gift from the disciples.

"They’re marking you," Lucas said, his voice tight with fear. "You’re the next target."

Eira swallowed hard, her hands trembling as she clutched the locket. She had known, deep down, that her time was coming. The curse was tied to her bloodline, and now the disciples were making it clear: her life was the next to be claimed.

"We need to stop this," Eira said, her voice trembling. "We need to break the curse before they take me."

Lucas nodded, but his face was pale, his eyes filled with worry. "How? We know what the curse demands, but there has to be another way. There has to be something we’re missing."

Eira shook her head, the weight of her fate pressing down on her. "I don’t know. But we don’t have much time. The solstice is only days away."

The Mark Revealed

As the day wore on, Eira couldn’t shake the feeling that time was slipping away faster than she could grasp it. The town felt quieter, more deserted, as if the people were hiding from something they couldn’t see. She knew the disciples were closing in, their power growing stronger with every passing moment.

Eira and Lucas returned to her house, desperate to find any remaining clues that might help them. They combed through the old records, the letters, the journals—but nothing new surfaced. The binding spell was clear: only blood could break the curse. But the cryptic mention of "the mark" still puzzled Eira.

As the sun began to set, casting long shadows across the town, Eira found herself standing in front of the mirror in her bedroom. She stared at her reflection, her mind racing. She had always been connected to Thornwick’s past, tied to the curse through her family’s bloodline. But what if there was more? What if there was something hidden in her own past that she hadn’t yet uncovered?

Suddenly, a strange sensation washed over her—a tingling on the back of her neck, like the faint brush of cold fingers. She shivered, her pulse quickening as she leaned closer to the mirror.

And then she saw it.

There, just beneath the skin of her collarbone, was a faint mark. It was barely visible, a shadow beneath the surface of her skin, but as Eira stared at it, it became clearer—an intricate symbol, swirling and delicate, like something ancient and powerful.

Her heart raced as she touched the mark, her fingers trembling. "The mark..."

She hadn’t noticed it before. It had always been there, hidden beneath the surface, waiting for the right moment to reveal itself.

Eira rushed downstairs, her mind spinning. Lucas looked up from the table, his eyes widening when he saw the expression on her face.

"I have it," Eira said, her voice breathless. "The mark. It’s on me."

Lucas stood up, his eyes widening in disbelief. "What do you mean?"

Eira pulled down the collar of her shirt, revealing the faint symbol etched into her skin. "It’s been there all along. The mark... it’s me."

Lucas stared at the mark, his face pale. "Then you’re the one who has to break the curse."

Eira nodded, her heart pounding. "It’s not just about my bloodline. The mark is the key to undoing the spell. I have to use it to sever Evandra’s connection to the disciples."

Lucas shook his head, his voice tight with fear. "But how? How do you use the mark?"

Eira’s mind raced. The binding spell had mentioned the mark, but it hadn’t explained how it was supposed to be used. She was connected to the curse, but the path to breaking it was still shrouded in mystery.

"We need to figure it out," Eira said, her voice trembling. "Before it’s too late."

The Witch’s Plan Unfolds

As night fell over Thornwick, Eira couldn’t shake the feeling that the disciples were growing closer, their power pressing in on the town like a dark fog. The mark on her skin burned faintly, a constant reminder that she was running out of time.

But the mark was also her hope. It was the key to breaking the curse, and if she could figure out how to use it, she might be able to stop the disciples before they claimed her life.

Eira stood at the window, staring out into the darkness, her mind spinning. The curse had already claimed so many lives, and now it was coming for her. But she wouldn’t go down without a fight.

"Whatever happens," Eira whispered, her hand resting on the mark, "I’m going to end this."

Lucas stood beside her, his face pale but determined. "We’ll figure it out. Together."

But as the wind howled outside and the shadows deepened, Eira knew that the final reckoning was fast approaching.

And Evandra’s disciples wouldn’t rest until her blood was spilled.