Joe and Raffin moved stealthily beneath the night's dark canopy. The cold, damp air clung to their skin, and the distant hoot of an owl punctuated the silence.

Under the church grounds, a curved tunnel twisted and wound its way deeper into the village's heart. The walls, slick with moisture, glistened in the torchlight, and the faint echo of dripping water added to the unsettling stillness.

Their breaths formed thin wisps of fog, lingering in the air and blending with the darkness.

As they approached a dark wooden door, they exchanged nods. Father Joe paused, searching his pocket for the key. The villagers believed this door led to a secret chamber where the priest had allegedly performed rituals for years.

Out of fear and respect for the old man, they never dared to enter. The key, cold and heavy in Joe's hand, felt like a relic from another time, its intricate engravings barely visible in the dim light.

Brian and Asdras trailed cautiously behind, treading softly on the damp ground to avoid detection.

"Ready?" Joe whispered, his voice barely audible over the sound of their own breathing.

"Ready!" Raffin replied, his eyes wide with anticipation.

With a gentle nudge, Joe pushed open the door, revealing a room bathed in the feeble, flickering glow of a solitary torch. Dim light cast elongated shadows that danced across the rough-hewn stone walls, adding to the room's ominous atmosphere.

In one corner lay an improvised bed, little more than a neglected pile of straw and coarse sheep wool.

The most horrifying sight was the solitary chair in the center of the room with a man bound to it. His skin was a ghastly combination of purple and blue, with fresh wounds marring his battered flesh. A small, distinctly colored stone nestled in the man's matted hair, glowing with a reddish-purple hue, cast an eerie glow across his lifeless face.

"Tha-hats!" Raffin stepped back. "Is this what I think?"

"It is," Joe said, approaching the body. "This poor soul failed his awakening. But the problem is..."

He grabbed the body's head and rotated it slightly to the left, revealing the neck. "Look!"

Raffin fixed his gaze on the exposed neck. A worm-like creature slithered beneath the pallid skin, creating unnatural bulges and ripples. The skin stretched and contorted as it zigzagged upwards, leaving a trail of sickly, greenish ichor. "Poiso—no, a curse?" he whispered, his voice trembling.

"Perhaps." Joe gently adjusted the head. "I don't recall any mention of such a curse in our holy texts, but it should be documented."

"Where did you find the body?"

"Down by the river." Joe sighed wearily as he perched on the bed.

"I was wandering aimlessly, seeking clarity amidst an uncertain future, when I stumbled upon the lifeless form by the riverbank three days ago. The peculiar part is that this individual isn't one of our own."

"Has this happened before?" Raffin asked, studying the chamber.

"No," Joe replied, adjusting his robe. "In my three years here in Bamor, I've never seen such a thing. The former priest, God rest his soul, never mentioned anything like this."

The curse that plagued the village had caused fear and unease for years. Those who experienced its effects faced sickness, misfortune, and even death.

Since the church checked this area two years ago and found no strange diseases, Father Joe believed these stories were just superstitions.

"This brings something to mind," Raffin said, circling the lifeless body with a thoughtful frown.

"During my travels here, I encountered some unusual occurrences. It's intriguing, considering these fields have always been calm." Raffin's voice was barely above a whisper, his eyes darting nervously as he spoke.

The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

"What is it?"

"The beasts usually keep their distance from the main road because of the protective measures," Raffin whispered, hands trembling as he leaned against the wall. "I came close to meeting my end out there, but that wasn't the worst of it."

"I... I was on the road here when I saw him. A figure cloaked in darkness, with an ominous hood hiding his face, he wore a necklace with a silver cross gleaming in the moonlight. It sent shivers down my spine. I thought I was alone, but there he was, like a shadow in the night. I couldn't see his face, but his presence..."

"An exorcist?" Joe's eyes widened. "Here, in these parts?"

"He told me he's hunting a woman armed with a whip. He warned me to avoid the hidden paths."

"It appears this Eruption—" Joe began, but he stopped abruptly as footsteps echoed in the distance. "These little rascals."

"Oh!" Raffin strained his eyes, peering through the underground darkness.

"Ah, never mind," Joe said, approaching. "I have a favor to ask."

Father Joe's last words echoed through the tunnel as Brian and Asdras quietly exited. The revelation about the curse weighed heavily on their minds.

As they emerged into the open, the chilly night air brushed their faces, contrasting the oppressive underground chamber. They moved swiftly yet cautiously, merging with the moon-cast shadows on the church's aged stone walls.

With a shared sense of urgency, they climbed the church's steep roof, gripping the cold, snowy tiles.

"Y'hear that?" Brian asked, and his voice quivered as his gaze darted around.

"Yes." Asdras nodded firmly.

Reaching the rooftop, they paused to catch their breath. From their elevated vantage point, they surveyed the houses below.

Flickering lamps from the houses cast dancing shadows outside the buildings, with a light mist hanging in the air.

"A fuckin' dead, the awakening, and the—" Brian stopped, noticing his friend's hand. "The curse..."

Asdras stared at his palm, where a faint red crow emblem was etched. Memories of a crow helping him in the wilderness resurfaced, puzzling him.

"Why?"

"Well, maybe it ain't all bad. Considerin' what the old man's been sayin', you might have an edge when it comes to awakening. Just look at your arms."

Asdras examined his arms, noting the healed skin without a single scar or mark.

"And what 'bout that exorcist?" Brian asked, changing the subject. "D'ya recall the tales we heard in the city?"

"Asdras, those exorcists hunting criminals for the church, they're somethin' else. Their rituals, the rumors... It's all so strange. I heard they're brutal, but they got this calm demeanor that chills ya to the bone."

"They say they wield cursed weapons," Asdras said, shaking his head. "I reckon we'll find out once we sign up and get our awakening. Sometimes I wonder if our fate will be the same as that dead man..."

"I dunno," Brian grinned. "We're too good-lookin' and sharp-witted for all that nonsense, don't ya think?" he added with a wink, earning a chuckle from his friend.

"Sure, it'll be a challenge, but we're ready. All those battles and training with old Joe have been the perfect warm-up!"

As their discussion drifted, Asdras' keen eyes flickered, catching a glimpse of something unusual moving among the tree branches.

At first, a mere wisp appeared, a pale white light that danced and took on a spectral form. Asdras gently nudged Brian and pointed at the strange apparition.

As they strained their eyes and focused their senses, a simultaneous realization struck them like lightning. In hushed unison, they spoke, their voices barely louder than night whispers.

"Is that a child?"

"Is there really a kid standin' all alone in the middle of the trees?" Brian gasped.

Asdras and Brian watched in disbelief as a small, pale figure, barely visible in the darkness, floated closer to the village.

It glided like a wraith, its movements both graceful and eerie, as if one with the shadowy night.

The thin veil of fog blanketing the landscape seemed to embrace the child, shrouding it in an ethereal cloak.

As the apparition approached, it came within the flickering torchlight marking the village boundary.

For a brief, heart-pounding moment, the pale figure remained illuminated by the warm, flickering glow.

The child's form became more defined, revealing tattered clothing and a mournful expression that sent shivers down the observers' spines.

But then, as if the torchlight had uncovered a hidden secret, the apparition began to dissipate.

It dissolved into the air like mist, leaving no trace of its presence. The fog that concealed it closed in, swallowing the apparition until it vanished completely.

Asdras and Brian exchanged wide-eyed glances, hearts racing with astonishment. The rooftop seemed to quiver beneath their feet as they struggled to comprehend what they had witnessed.

"Y'see that?"