Standing next to the engraved iron doors, a prompt appeared.

  Dread Spire Keep. Locked.

  You have the key!

  Would you like to unlock the Keep? Yes or No.

  He selected Yes.

  A metallic grinding noise broke the silence as a keyhole appeared on the gate.

  "Here we go."

  His heart thumped in his chest as his hand met metal. The vines of the Keep coiled at his touch, snakes ready to strike. One shot out aimed for his head, Jason barely moved in time as the vine shot past a thorn catching his cheek, drawing a small amount of blood.

  Stepping back, the vines uncoiled, falling lazily against the Keep.

  "You alright?" Maggy asked, turning his face, looking at the wound.

  "It's just a scratch." He said, whipping the blood away.

  "I'll need to be quick, this shouldn't be a problem," Jason muttered, under his breath.

  With a quick motion, he pushed the key into the slot and turned.

  Vines shot out their movements, reminding him of the Brierhounds.

  He stepped out of their reach as the massive iron doors flung open, eerily silent. A rush of air whooshed out. The torrent of air rushed out of the Keep, and the ice chill of the wind sent chills down Jason's spine.

  Laughing nervously, Jason spoke. "At least it won't be hot."

  "If whatever is inside here does not kill me, your humor just might," Maggy said, with a smile.

  Jason and Maggy entered the foreboding halls. The vines falling dormant as if in defeat.

  The aura of despair that emanated from the halls was palpable, and an oppressive weight pressed down on them as soon as they crossed the threshold. The air hung thick with the scent of damp stone and decaying wood, and an eerie stillness filled the corridors.

  The world around them was twisted in unnatural ways. Blackened vines, thick and pulsing faintly with dark energy, slithered up the cold, cracked stone walls. The ceiling loomed high above, lost in shadows that shifted and moved like something unseen lurked within them. Occasional torches flickered dimly, their flames barely able to hold back the encroaching darkness. The oppressive silence was broken only by the distant, hollow echoes of unseen movements deeper within the Keep.

  "The whispers are growing stronger," Jason said, his voice steady despite the rising tension. "I think we are about to find out whatever is responsible for all of this."

  Jason clenched his fists, feeling the cold dread creeping at the edges of his mind. "Thank you, Sabrina," Jason muttered under his breath as The Blessing of the Forgiven pulsed within him, a small but steady light, candle in a room of darkness, pushing back the whispers. The memories they tried to dredge up no longer held the same power over him. His resolve remained firm, even as the malevolent aura wanted to break him. The Blessing had already begun to show its worth.

  This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

  Maggy, on the other hand, faltered. Her hand reached up, tightening the hood of the Harrower. The whispers clawed at her insecurities, gritting her teeth, she pressed forward, determined not to give in to the despair that lingered in the air like a poisonous fog.

  "This place…" Maggy whispered, her voice strained, "It feels alive."

  Jason nodded grimly. "Stay close. We'll face whatever comes together."

  The halls of the Keep seemed to stretch endlessly, each turn revealing more of the same. Every step echoed hollowly, amplifying the sensation of being watched by unseen eyes. The stagnant air made each breath feel labored, and the deeper they ventured, the heavier the weight of the whispers became.

  Then—

  A wail.

  A Harrower emerged from the shadows.

  Jason did not hesitate as ink flowed from his arm, pooling into the familiar shape of Scraps.

  "Sic 'em."

  Scraps darted at the Harrower. Vines lashed. Bone cracked. The Harrower slammed into the wall. Falling still.

  Scraps trotted back to them, vines wagging. "Who's a good boy? You're a good boy?" Jason said, patting his knees.

  Maggy smiled as she watched the exchange, eyes scanning the corridors.

  Three more emerged.

  Jason crushed one with his mace. Maggy fired a Spirit Bolt. Scraps tackled the last.

  Jason flexed his fingers. "Crazy. One of these nearly killed me when I first got here. Say what you want about these games, but the power we're gaining is amazing."

  As if summoned by his words, the halls began to echo as mournful wails cried out. One after another, Harrower formed from shadows, quickly outnumbering them.

  One of the Harrowers flicked its arm, and a chain shot out, wrapping around Jason's forearm. The moment it made contact, the whispers clawed at his mind, dragging him towards the night of Sabrina's death.

  The Blessing pulsed, dissolving the chain. Spinning toward the Harrower, his mace was already in motion, and with a satisfying crunch, the Harrower fell still.

  "There are too many!" Maggy cried. Her hands trembled. Another Spirit Bolt shot out.

  Jason turned, scanning their surroundings. Scraps and Maggy stood their ground, backs facing him, creating a ring of safety. Their determination was palpable, a testament to their resilience despite overwhelming odds. For every Harrower they felled, another two emerged, seeping from the cracks of the Keep itself. The air thickened with their presence, the very walls whispering their despair. The stone beneath Jason's feet pulsed, seeming to give way to chains trying to drag them under.

  "Stick together," he ordered, stepping in front of Maggy. "We cut through, we don't stop!"

  Another Harrower rushed them, a vine whipped out, battering it away. "Scraps, clear the way!"

  Scraps charged down the hall, vines whipping back and forth, battering the harrowers away.

  "Run!" Jason shouted as he grabbed Maggy by the arm, following Scraps.

  The two bolted down the corridor behind Scraps, dodging outstretched chains and spectral hands that clawed from the walls themselves.

  The Keep howled around them, as if enraged at their defiance. The halls twisted, shadows deepened, doorways seemed to vanish, and the air thickened with dread.

  Whispers berated them.

  "You should have saved her!"

  "Your Father always knew."

  The intensity of the whispers forced them to stumble. They continued to push forward, pushing against the suffocating force of despair, battling through the endless tide of Harrowers. With every step, Jason felt the Blessing of the Forgiven burning within him, keeping the crushing weight of the Keep's influence at bay.

  Heart pounding, Jason didn't know where to go. The gravity of the situation was not lost on him, and fear gripped his heart. He feared they would get lost in the endless halls and be overwhelmed, especially if they ran into a dead end.

  Then, finally…

  A massive set of doors loomed ahead, towering monuments of black iron etched with symbols long worn away by time. Every step forward felt like wading through a tide of misery, the air thick and suffocating. The whispers screamed, a deafening chorus of agony demanding they turn back.

  He didn't slow. "Maggy, together!"

  With a shared nod, the three threw their weight against the doors. Stone groaned, reluctant, before the hinges finally gave way. The doors yawned open, unveiling the heart of Dread Spire Keep… and the nightmare waiting beyond.