James Mightypen

THE FRAME OF BLOOD

Three years since I opened the door on the outskirt of the school library, I found myself here; they call it "the grave land".
Anyone who finds himself/herself here is a potential sacrifice; no natural death.

We spent everyday we lived to see ourselves alive like it was our last. No one knew who'd be next, no pattern of killing, just spontaneous. Each day, our people lived in sin knowing they could meet their end any night.

One person sacrificed is solicited for by the entry of two new captives, all appeared from the wall in the middle of the village.

For three years I'd never lost hope. I still believed I would find a way out of this sh****le. while they spent each day in immorality, I worked out myself finding the truth behind the one sided wall in the middle of the village with a frame of blood inscriptions.

The inscriptions were names of past, death residence who were sacrificed. One name stood out different—boldly written, like a topic while all others were like subjects scattered beneath it. 'Selene Morgan', the people said she's the first maiden born of the village , every other person came through the portal frame.

My name is Mira, I'm an archaeologist, and Jace is my high school friend, we were captured together, and together, we would navigate through the mystery of this timeless village.

Jace and I wandered the forest covered with thick fog, where Spirit cries echoed like enchantment filling the atmosphere with suspense; untraceable but everywhere, birds chirped ominously like dissonant strings in a horror score, yet invisible, skulls scattered everywhere like a battlefield. The stench assaulted our nostrils, thick with dread.

Night came but we were one day's walk away from the village; no going back. Right in the middle of the forest, surrounded by the skulls, was a tomb. Jace and I spent the night in the tomb. within it were incense burning, the cave reeked of garlic, quiet and peaceful, yet fe**sh like a sorcerer's cabin.

"Selene Morgan; the virgin mother" The name well carved on the stone which served as the door to the tomb—in red.
Within her grave was a scroll with a bottle of blood—her blood. Written on it were incantations and prophecies.

Guess who the prophecy was about? me. I was here to fulfill a seven thousand years prophecy that has never been told, but hidden. Today marks seven thousand years since the village came into existence.

The scroll carried symbols same as the frame in the village. We took the blood and the scroll out of the grave and headed to the village at sunrise.

Suddenly, darkness covered everywhere, lightening strikes and thunder rumbled, the guardian spirits growling at rage. The blood has left the tomb, and the prophecy's about to be fulfilled

WHAT HAPPENED NEXT ❓❓

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