Chapter 4 The Locket's Secret

Evelyn's pulse quickened (like a drum) as she ran through the dimly lit hallways of her aunt's house, her heart still pounding violently from her disturbing encounter in Blackthorn Forest.

Each step felt more painful-her thoughts swirling in a chaotic haze-as she tried to make sense of the series of strange events that had transpired since that fateful night.

Its distinctive sign, the terrifying howl, the wolf, and the unsettling attraction she now felt for the stranger all remained etched in her mind.

The house, too, seemed alive: its creaking woodwork and flickering lights only intensified her growing sense of anxiety.

Yet she had always found comfort in that sprawling old house; tonight, every shadow seemed to hide a bad secret.

She had to find out the truth, but the attic was the one place she hadn't explored yet.

The attic door, hidden behind the heavy velvet curtain of the hallway, seemed to be calling.

As Evelyn reached for the handle, the hairs on the back of her neck stood up, an unsettling feeling she couldn't ignore. Something was wrong.

The silence was eerie, the kind of stillness that made her feel like she was being watched, and the realization only added to her fear. But something was different.

Evelyn felt a sudden-a subtle-change in the atmosphere. It seemed as if the room itself was waiting for her, watching her.

The oppressive silence covered her like a blanket, suffocating and thick.

She shook herself off the feeling and went to the other side of the room, where an old chest sat against the wall, its surface covered in a thick layer of dust.

The chest was heavy, its intricate carvings faded but still visible in the dim light.

Evelyn's aunt had always been an enigma (even to her).

There had been rumours about her family, about unusual occurrences linked to her lineage, but Evelyn had never given much credence to those rumours.

Now, with everything going on in her life-the sign, the wolf, the howl-it ​​all seemed interconnected. It was time to discover the truth.

Evelyn knelt before the chest, her hands shaking as she dusted it.

As the last layer of paint faded, the carvings on its chest became clearer: twisted symbols, intricate loops, and sharp lines that reminded her of the designs that adorned her shoulder.

The same symbols that had glowed since that fateful night in the forest.

A shiver ran down her spine (as she traced her fingers along the carvings), feeling the special energy radiating from the wood.

She could feel it-something ancient, powerful, hidden inside. She gasped as she lifted the heavy trunk lid. Inside, hidden in the velvet fabric, was a small, ornate locket.

Evelyn gasped as she picked it up, its weight feeling strangely heavy in her hands.

It was beautiful, its surface carved with the same symbols that haunted her dreams, her shoulders, and now this house.

But there was something more, something that made Evelyn's heart beat faster.

The locket seemed (almost) to buzz in her hands, as if it were alive, responding to her touch. She opened it carefully; her pulse quickened. Inside, two photographers watched. One described a woman with dark, knowing eyes and a lively, striking face.

Evelyn's breath caught in her throat (this woman looked like her aunt), but the intensity in her gaze was something Evelyn had never encountered before.

The second photo showed a man with a stern face, a mixture of strength and sadness. His eyes shone with the same haunted intensity as the wolf (but it was different). For a moment, Evelyn couldn't breathe. The connection between the man in the photo and the wolf is undeniable.

Was it the same wolf that had followed her into the forest? And why did he feel like these people were connected to his past, to his past? The air in the attic seemed to thicken as if the walls were closing in on him.

The noise suddenly pierced the air, distant but unmistakable. Evelyn froze, her heart-stopping as the low, unpleasant sound echoed through the walls of the house.

It was the same scream he had heard in the forest and it seemed to be getting closer. The room seemed to tremble, the shadows quivering as if they were alive.

His fingers tightened around the medallion, feeling its pulse of heat beneath his fingers.

And then (without waiting) the medallion began to glow. A soft, strange light emanated from it, casting peculiar shadows on the attic walls. The symbols on the medallion twisted and moved (almost as if they had a life of their own). Evelyn shivered (disoriented) as the glow intensified, growing brighter.

The room around him seemed distorted; the air was charged with an electric charge.

The screams grew into a crescendo, now seeming to come from all directions.

"What's going on?" Evelyn whispered, her voice barely audible above the cacophony that now enveloped the room. However, she felt a strange pull towards the medallion, as if it were drawing her closer. Even as she hesitated, a deeper instinct urged her to strike. This moment seemed crucial, for everything around her had changed, transformed into something beyond her comprehension.

The symbols on the locket moved with increasing speed, and the edges of the photographs blurred as if consumed by light. Evelyn's breathing came in short, anxious gasps (due to the growing anxiety she felt) as the attic door slammed behind her with a deafening thud. She turned, her heart pounding in her chest; yet no one was present, only an oppressive silence hanging heavy in the air.

He tried to walk toward the door, but something held him in place. His legs felt like lead, as if an invisible force was holding him in place. The scream filled his head now, a hollow sound, embracing everything else, drowning everything else out. His skin trembled with a strange energy, the mark on his shoulder pulsed in response.

The medallion glowed brighter now, its energy flowing through it, causing it to open wider. Without thinking, he opened the locket completely, revealing the two photographs.

As soon as he did, the light from the locket shone blindingly, forcing him to shield his eyes. The screams reached a deafening crescendo and, for a split second, everything went silent.

The air seemed to freeze, holding its breath. And then it was all gone. The scream stopped. The light in the medallion went out, leaving only a faint, pulsating glow. Evelyn's heart pounded in her chest as she lowered her hands, staring at the medallion in disbelief.

The symbols stopped moving. The images were no longer blurry, but completely still, frozen in place. She felt a strange energy settle around her, a dense presence that seemed to be watching her from the darkness. The attic quieted down again, but the weight of what had just happened weighed on him.

The attic door slowly opened. Evelyn's eyes widened as she turned toward the noise, the locket still in her trembling hands. She didn't know whether to run or stay. She didn't know if she was safe or if something would happen to her.

But she couldn't ignore this feeling, this unmistakable impression that, no matter what, everything would change. The attic door opened and a shadow stood in the doorway.

For a moment, Evelyn couldn't breathe. The figure at the entrance was tall and hunched in the darkness, its features hidden by the shadow. But the eyes-bright, familiar eyes-pierced the darkness and closed on hers. Then a low, familiar voice broke the silence.

"You shouldn't have opened it." Evelyn gasped as she took an instinctive step back, her pulse pounding in her chest. She felt the cold weight of the stranger pressing around her, trapping her.

The locket in her hands pulsed again as if reacting to the figure at the entrance, but she couldn't tear her eyes away from the dark presence. What was that? Who was he? And what did he want from her?

Her heart pounded (in her chest) as this shadow advanced, revealing a face she had only seen once before (the man in the portrait).

In any case, the memory was vivid, but the fear it aroused was overwhelming. Even though he tried to stay calm, because this meeting was unexpected, his breathing quickened.