The Blood Moon Pact

The scent of burning herbs filled the air, mingling with the metallic tang of blood. Shadows danced around a stone altar in the middle of clearing, the hooded figures moving in a slow, synchronized circle. Their chants echoed in the stillness, gutteral and ancient, like the language of something long forgotten.

Above them, the blood Moon hung low in the sky, bathing everything in its ominous red glow. The wind whispered through the trees, carrying the voices further into the dark forest.

At the center of the altar lay a girl, her wrists bound by thorned vines. Her eyes fluttered open, confusion and terror swirling in their depths. She tried to scream, but no sound came out.

One of the figures stepped closer, raising a dagger etched with strange symbols. His voice rose above the others, commanding the attention of the moon itself

"By this blood, we seal the pact. By this life, we summon the ancient one".

The girl thrashed, but the vines tightened around her wrists, cutting her skin. Her dripping onto the altar, soaking into the stone.

The wind howled, and for a moment, the blood Moon seemed to pulse.

Anne gasped , jerking awake, Her chest heaved as if she'd been holding her breath for hours. Sweat clung to her skin, her sheets were twisted around her legs. She pressed a hand to her racing heart.

"Just a dream", she whispered to herself. "It was just a dream".

But as her breathing slowed, the details of the nightmare lingered. The chanting. The dagger. The blood Moon. She couldn't shake the feeling that it wasn't a dream at all.

Shaking her head,Anne threw off the covers and swung her lungs over the edge of the bed. Her bare feet touched the cold wooden floor, sending a shiver up her spine. She needed water, something to ground her back in reality.

As she walked toward the kitchen, the shadows in the hallway seemed to shift. She stopped, staring into the darkness her pulse quickened again.

"Get a grip". She muttered. "It's just the dark".

But even as she said it, the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. She hurried into the kitchen, flicking on the light. The sudden brightness stung eyes, but she welcomed it.

Reaching for a glass, she caught a glimpse of her wrist-and froze.

There, on her pale skin, were dark crimson symbols. The same symbols from her dream.

"No," she whispered. " No,no,no,no,no,no,no..."

She scrubbed at her wrists, panic raising in her chest. The marks wouldn't fade. They weren't drawn or painted-they were etched into her skin like a brand

The kitchen light flicker.

Anne spun around, her heart pounding. The shadows in the corner of the room seemed to stretch toward her, growing darker, deeper. She stumbled backward, hitting the counter

Then came the whisper.

"It begins".

Anne clapped her hands over her ears, but voice was inside her head. It echoed, twisting into a distant scream. She Squeezed her eyes shut willing it to stop.

Her phone buzzed on the counter. The sudden sound made her jump.

With shaking hands, she grabbed it stared at screen.

1 new message

The sender? Unknown

She hesitated, her thumb hovering over the notification. The message preview sent chills down her spine.

"You can't run from destiny. The pact is sealed."

Her breath caught in her throat. Her vision blurred with tears.

"No, no, no."

The phone buzzed again. Another message.

"The blood Moon rises. He's coming."

Anne's knees gave out. She collapsed to floor, clutching her phone to her chest. Her mind raced.

Who was coming ?. What pact?.

The light flickered again plunging the room into momentary darkness.

When the light came back on a figure stood in the doorway.

"Anne," the figure whispered. It was a familiar voice, but twisted with something dark.

Something... wrong.

Anne scrambled backward, pressing her against the corner. " Who... his eyes were black at the void.

" Caleb tilted his head, a cruel smile playing at his lips. " You should never have broken the pact sister.

Before Anne could react, the light shattered.

Darkness consumed the room.

And in darkness, the whisper returned.

"Run."

Anne bolted upright from the floor, heart racing as darkness swallowed the room. Her pulse thundered in her ears, drowning out everything except the whispered command.

Run.

Her feet stumbled over the cold floor as she made her way toward the front door. Her trembling hands reached for the handle, but a soft chuckle echoed behind her.

"There's nowhere to run, Anne."

She froze. The voice was Caleb's - or something pretending to be him.

"Caleb?" she whispered, her voice cracking with fear.

A sinister laugh responded, sending chills down her spine. Slowly, she turned, her back pressed against the door.

Caleb stood there, but something about him was grotesquely off. His skin was pale, veins visible beneath the surface. His eyes, once a warm hazel, were now pitch-black voids that reflected nothing but malice.

He took a step forward, and Anne shrank back.

"Why are you running?" he asked, his voice smooth and mocking. "You made the pact, Anne. You sealed it with blood. There's no escaping it now."

Anne's mind spun. "I don't know what you're talking about!"

Caleb tilted his head, a cruel smile playing on his lips. "Oh, you will. Soon enough."

Suddenly, the room grew colder. Frost crept along the windows, and the air turned icy. The shadows writhed, twisting and contorting like living things.

Anne's breath came in short gasps, fogging in the freezing air. "This isn't real," she whispered to herself. "This is just another nightmare."

Caleb's grin widened. "Is it?"

He raised his hand, and the symbols on Anne's wrist burned with searing pain. She screamed, clutching her arm as the marks glowed red-hot.

"Remember the altar?" Caleb asked. "Remember the chant? It wasn't just a dream. It was a ritual, Anne. And you were the offering."

Her mind reeled. Flashes of the altar, the chanting figures, and the blood moon filled her vision. She saw herself lying there, bound and helpless, as the hooded figures performed the ritual.

"No," she whimpered. "I don't remember... I don't remember anything."

"You will," Caleb said, his voice dropping to a chilling whisper. "The blood moon will rise again. And when it does, He will come for you."

Anne shook her head, tears streaming down her face. "Who? Who's coming?"

Caleb took another step toward her. His voice was barely audible, a haunting whisper that echoed in the freezing room.

"The Ancient One."

Before she could react, a deafening crash shattered the silence. The front door flew open, torn off its hinges by an unseen force. Anne stumbled backward, her scream lost in the howling wind that rushed inside.

Outside, the blood moon hung low in the sky, bathing the world in a crimson glow. The wind carried distant whispers, growing louder with each passing second.

Anne turned to run, but Caleb's hand shot out, grabbing her wrist. His grip was ice-cold, and the burning pain from the symbols intensified.

"You can't run from destiny, Anne," he hissed. "You can't escape what's coming."

With a desperate cry, Anne yanked her arm free and ran into the night. The wind whipped around her, carrying the sinister whispers like a cursed lullaby.

As she ran through the dark forest, the trees seemed to close in around her, their gnarled branches reaching out like skeletal hands. Her feet pounded against the dirt path, but no matter how far she ran, the whispers followed.

"The pact is sealed."

"He will come."

"You cannot escape."

Suddenly, Anne tripped over a root, crashing to the ground. Pain shot through her knees and palms, but she forced herself to look up.

In front of her stood a figure cloaked in shadows. It was tall, its form barely human. Its eyes glowed a deep, malevolent red - the same color as the blood moon.

Anne's heart stopped.

"Anne," the figure said, its voice a chorus of distorted whispers. "You are chosen."

Before she could scream, the figure lunged toward her, and everything went black.