Day 8: The Second Disappearance

The clearing in the woods loomed around Eira and Lucas like a living entity, the twisted branches of the blackened tree seeming to reach out toward them. The pulse of magic beneath their feet was undeniable. Something dark was stirring here, and the air felt thick with its presence.

Eira knelt beside the offerings scattered at the base of the tree. The brooch that had belonged to Mrs. Finch shimmered in the pale moonlight, a haunting reminder that she was still out there—somewhere. The realization settled over Eira like a lead weight. The disciples were playing a game, and Mrs. Finch was only the beginning.

Lucas stood beside her, his eyes scanning the perimeter of the clearing. "We’re close. I can feel it."

Eira nodded, but her throat was tight with fear. "They’re using this place to gather their strength. It’s tied to the coven. But why here?"

Lucas looked down at the offerings, his expression grim. "Maybe this is where the curse started. If Evandra’s coven met here, then it makes sense for the disciples to return to this place."

Eira swallowed hard, her mind racing. "But if the curse started here, then maybe it’s also where we can break it."

The words felt like a long shot, but Eira clung to the hope. She had to. If they didn’t figure out how to stop the curse soon, more people would disappear. More lives would be claimed by Evandra’s vengeance.

"Let’s get out of here," Lucas said, his voice tense. "I don’t like the way this place feels."

Eira nodded, though her eyes lingered on the brooch for a moment longer. She had to find Mrs. Finch. She had to stop this.

But as they turned to leave the clearing, the air shifted. A cold wind blew through the trees, carrying with it a sound that made Eira’s blood run cold—a low, mournful wail, like a cry from the depths of the earth.

Lucas froze beside her. "Did you hear that?"

Eira’s heart pounded in her chest. "It’s coming from the town."

Without another word, they broke into a run, racing back through the woods toward Thornwick. The wind howled around them, carrying that same eerie wail, growing louder with every step.

By the time they reached the edge of the woods and stepped back onto the cobblestone streets of Thornwick, the town was in a state of chaos. People were gathered in the square, shouting and pointing toward the old church, their faces pale with fear.

Eira’s stomach churned as she pushed through the crowd, her heart racing. Something was terribly wrong.

And then she saw it.

The doors of the church were wide open, and inside, the pews were overturned, candles scattered across the stone floor. But it wasn’t the mess that made Eira’s breath catch in her throat.

It was the figure standing at the altar.

Mrs. Finch’s son, Richard, stood there, his hands outstretched, his eyes vacant and glassy. His lips moved silently, as if he were in some kind of trance, completely unaware of the chaos around him.

But that wasn’t the worst of it.

Behind Richard, hanging from the large wooden cross at the back of the church, was another twisted wreath, identical to the one that had been left at Mrs. Finch’s house. And beneath it, lying on the altar, was another small, twisted gift—a wooden box, intricately carved with strange, dark symbols.

Eira’s blood ran cold as she stepped closer, her pulse racing. "Richard..."

He didn’t respond. His eyes remained fixed on the box, his lips still moving in that eerie, silent chant.

"Richard!" Lucas called, moving toward him, but before he could get too close, Richard suddenly collapsed to the ground, his body limp and motionless.

Lucas rushed to his side, checking for a pulse. "He’s alive, but... he’s out cold."

Eira stared at the box, her heart pounding in her chest. This was no ordinary disappearance. The disciples had taken Richard in some way, using him as a vessel for their magic, just as they had with Mrs. Finch.

But there was something else—something darker—about the box.

"I need to open it," Eira said, her voice trembling.

Lucas looked up from where he knelt beside Richard, his expression grim. "Are you sure that’s a good idea?"

Eira wasn’t sure of anything anymore. But she knew that whatever was inside the box was tied to the curse, to the disciples, and to the twisted gifts they had been leaving behind.

She stepped closer to the altar, her hands shaking as she reached out to lift the lid of the box. The second her fingers touched the wood, a cold rush of air blew through the church, extinguishing every candle and plunging them into darkness.

Eira gasped, stumbling back as the box creaked open on its own.

Inside, resting on a bed of black velvet, was a small, blackened Christmas bell. It was old—so old that its surface was tarnished and cracked, the once-shiny metal now dull and twisted. But that wasn’t what made Eira’s heart race.

It was the faint sound of the bell ringing, even though no one had touched it.

The Second Warning

The bell’s sound echoed through the empty church, a soft, haunting chime that seemed to come from nowhere and everywhere at once. Eira stared at it, her pulse racing, as the dark energy around them thickened.

"That’s not possible," Lucas whispered, standing beside her. "No one’s ringing it."

But Eira knew better. The bell wasn’t just a cursed object—it was a signal. Another warning from the disciples.

"They’re marking the next victim," Eira said, her voice barely above a whisper. "They’re telling us who’s next."

Lucas stared at the bell, his face pale. "But how do we know who it is?"

Eira’s mind raced. The twisted wreaths, the gifts—they were all connected to the people who had disappeared. Mrs. Finch had been marked with the wreath, and now Richard had been used as a vessel.

The bell was marking the next target.

"We have to figure out what it means," Eira said, her voice trembling. "Before someone else disappears."

The Witch's Legacy

As they left the church, carrying the bell with them wrapped in cloth, Eira’s thoughts were spinning. She could feel the disciples closing in, their presence growing stronger with every passing day. But there was still so much she didn’t understand.

"What’s next?" Lucas asked as they walked through the quiet streets, the bell tucked safely in his jacket. "Where do we go from here?"

Eira shook her head, her mind racing. "We need to find out more about the people who disappeared. There has to be a reason the disciples are targeting specific people. It’s not random."

"Mrs. Finch was connected to the town’s history, wasn’t she?" Lucas asked, frowning. "Her family was one of the oldest in Thornwick."

Eira nodded, her heart pounding. "And Richard’s family... his ancestors were some of the first settlers in the town. Maybe that’s it. The disciples are targeting people connected to Thornwick’s past."

Lucas stared at her, his eyes wide. "Then that means you’re a target too."

The words sent a chill through Eira. She hadn’t thought about it before, but Lucas was right. Her own family’s history was steeped in the curse. If the disciples were targeting people connected to Thornwick’s past, it was only a matter of time before they came for her.

"We have to stop this," Eira whispered, her voice filled with fear. "Before it’s too late."