Thoughts raced through my head as I ran. Thoughts about home, about Hana, and about the “truth”. I was so lost in thought that I hadn’t paid any attention to where I was going or what I’d passed on my way there. I found myself in the middle of a long dark tunnel. Completely blind I could only try to feel my way forward. Worrying that those guards could find me at any time, I pick up the pace.

After wail, I start to see light at the end of the tunnel, literally. Sliver moonlight was shinnying through the end of the tunnel-like a guiding light. It led me outside to a dilapidated garden. The grass was almost knee-high; the stone path was cracked and uneven, the trees had grown together blotting out a large portion of the sky, and the flowers had all withered and died. It was clear that no one had taken care of it for a long time. Heck, I’d go as far as to say that no one’s even seen this place in years.

At the other end of the garden was a large hexagon building that rested in one of the few patches of sky left. It had large circular windows on every wall of the building going up to what looked like a second floor, with large iron double doors.

Do you know that creepy house that every neighborhood has? The one that’s been there since your great, great grandparents were kids. People avoid it like the plague. Everyone says it is haunted and at least one person a year just gets eaten by it. I feel like I’m standing in front of the mother of all creepy haunted houses.

My gut told me that this place was trouble, but my head told me I had no real choice. It was already dark and getting colder by the minute. Going back in the tunnel could get me caught and I don’t want to know what’ll happen then. This place looks completely forgotten meaning this will be the last place they’ll look for me if they even remember this place exists. Either way, it’ll be safe for a little while at least.

Slowly I make my way across the garden. Wind rattles the leaves and shakes the trees causing the shadows to dance. Now that I’m closer the features of the building become clearer. Made of stone it looks seamless like it was carved from one large piece. Hand-carved flowers and vines decorate the outside. The large iron doors are beautifully made with words carved into the rusting iron. It read,

“Beati omnes qui huc intraverunt. Dii te tueantur itineri.”

I had no idea what it meant, but it didn’t feel like a threat or a warning, but even if it was it wouldn’t matter. I was going in no matter what.

As I pushed open the old rusty iron doors they creaked and rattled. I thought the inside would be pitch dark from the trees, but, to my surprise, it wasn’t. The inside was brightly lit by the moonlight that cascaded through the windows. Despite being an older building it wasn’t drafty or cold. It seems the builder made it to last.

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

After taking a good look around I decided that this was once a church. Pews lined both sides of the walkway. What looked like normal windows on the outside was really stained glass. They depicted different figures and scenes in brilliant colors, that were so vibrant that they looked to be alive. Out of all the pictures the one that caught my eye the most was the one behind the altar.

It depicted seven figures resting on clouds. One figure was a young man with glasses reading. Next to him was a dwarfish-looking man hammering away at metal. Then there was a woman with a blindfold on looking towards the others. After she was a child holding a quill pen. Then a woman dressed in all black was staring out into the church. And then the last two shared a cloud, one was a blonde-haired man holding a sun, and the other was a silver-haired woman holding a moon.

It was clear that these were the gods from the old king’s story. Looking at them made me boil with anger and frustration. I want to smash the window but don’t. It was clear that someone worked hard day and night to make it. For me to destroy it out of nothing more than petty rage would not faze those gods. All it would do is insult the craftsmen who did nothing wrong.

Thinking about this church and the king's long-winded speech, I realized that this truly isn’t earth. Putting aside the fact that most monarchies have long since died off (their castles are now dust). The story the king told would be considered a pure myth. Finding its place beside Mount Olympus and Asgard. Yet, to the king and the builders of this church, they are as real as Jesus and Buddha. It makes me wonder if they really exist because if they do it makes things worse.

“Why?” I ask out loud as I stare at the stained glass, my voice echoing off the stone walls.

“Why Hana!? How could you do that to her!? To anyone!? How can you call yourselves gods when the only thing you can do is make an innocent girl suffer!? You give her a family only to rip her away from them so that she can be your scapegoat! You can’t seriously expect me to believe that sacrificing one girl could really save the world! Or that after all this time you haven’t come up with a better solution! Do you know, can you imagine the pain and suffering she must be going through!?” My voice is horse, and I’m running out of breath, but I continue talking in a soft raspy voice.

“She’s afraid of storms and dark. She still can’t sleep alone without a night light. But even so, she dreams of being a doctor, and singer. She works hard to make sure that I take care of myself. And I told her everything would be ok. That everything would be fine once we got to the dinner. But nothing is alright. She’s god knows where and I’m here, in the castle of a crazy king, being chased!”

I couldn’t talk anymore, I wanted to, theirs was so much more on my mind, but the words just wouldn’t come out. Like they were stuck in my throat. Once I stopped talking the echoes died down giving way to silence. I didn’t expect a reply, because even if gods did exist, they wouldn’t be interested in the words of a human that doesn’t even believe in them…. right?

The air in the church changed. It became heavy and thick. I felt myself be pulled down, finding myself flat on my ass. Staring up at the stained glass as a voice replied,

“Is that all you have to say?”