Even in the Grave

"I was home," Marcus muttered. "Then in a coffin. Now… this."

Ella raised her eyebrow, giving Marcus a confused look.

"You're not making any sense."

"I'm not trying to…" Marcus snapped back at her.

"I don't even know where I am, I'm confused, I'm starving, and I just want to go home."

She paused, then tilted her head.

"Wait… how did you even get to know about Yonder?"

Marcus scratched his head and responded,

"An old man mentioned it. He also said something about not going to Yonder and warned me about something called a Profanity too."

The moment he said that Ella began muttering to herself.

"Just knowing the name shouldn't be enough to bring you here," she said slowly.

"It usually takes more, much more."

She studied him now with a judging look.

"That man… he wasn't just some random old man, was he?"

Marcus hesitated. Ella continued, now lowering her voice.

"And if he spoke of Profanities too, then they'll be coming for you. They don't like being known. The moment someone says their name or even thinks too loudly about them, they notice."

Marcus, now even more confused by her statement, asked,

"What the hell is a Profanity?"

Ella's tone darkened as she turned to Marcus and said.

"Things that shouldn't exist. Not gods, not demons, not creatures, just wrong, twisted truths the world keeps trying to forget."

"The Unseen? That thing you nearly looked at? That's just one of them."

"They leak into the world from Yonder. No one knows what they truly are. But the more you learn about them… the more they learn about you."

She looked back at him even more seriously this time.

"Marcus, was it? Knowledge is a curse in the world of a Herald. Be careful who you speak to… and what you choose to read."

Marcus swallowed, now aware of the air pressing in. The endless corridors seemed to hum as the torches flickered slowly.

"I'm losing my mind…" he whispered sarcastically.

"Erm, Ella... how are we supposed to get out of this place?"

Ella sighed and gestured for him to follow as they began walking along one of the endless corridors.

"I'll try to get you out," she said. "But no promises. Yonder is unpredictable, and I don't know what'll happen next."

Trying to distract himself from their echoing footsteps and her disturbing words, Marcus opened the old diary the old man had given him. He flipped to the first page and read:

"All I wanted was to sleep. But he wouldn't let me. He wants me to stay awake… forever."

The handwriting, the language it was written in, and the words everyone else spoke.

It was all the same. Then it hit him.

"Wait… how come I can understand you?"

Ella blinked at him, confused at his statement, then she laughed.

"Seems I've got myself a comedian."

But when she looked at him and noticed his expression hadn't changed, her smile faded.

"You're serious?" she said, squinting. "You're quite the strange one."

Ella folded her arms as they continued walking, then she said

"We're speaking Aenglith, obviously."

Marcus blinked, then whispered,

"Huh… Aenglith… you mean English?"

Before Ella could respond they began to fall. The floor ceased being a physical object and they both phased through it.

 Marcus let out a startled yell as they crashed into a fruit cart, toppling crates and sending apples flying.

Ella rolled to her feet with a grunt, grabbing his wrist.

Screams erupted from all sides of the market square.

Vendors ducked, and children cried as a man pointed with a trembling hand.

"Witchcraft!"

"Heralds! It's the Heralds!"

"Get the guards!"

Ella didn't hesitate as she yanked Marcus up by the collar.

"Run… Now…"

They bolted into the nearest alley, weaving through laundry lines and scattered crates. Shouts echoed behind them, but no one followed.

Panting, Ella stopped behind a crooked barrel and then slumped to the ground.

 From the inside of her cloak, she pulled out two apples and tossed one to Marcus.

"Haven't eaten in two days," she muttered, biting into hers. "Yonder doesn't do snacks."

Marcus blinked, still winded, "Two… days?"

She nodded then said,

"Time moves weird in there. Sometimes it's slow or maybe fast, other times it forgets to move."

He stared at the apple in his hand,

"Am I gonna end up there again?"

Ella sighed, "If you know about it? Yeah probably. Yonder likes pulling on loose threads. It doesn't like being forgotten"

Ella finished the last bite of her apple and stood up, brushing dust from her cloak.

"Alright," she said, eyes scanning the alleyway. "I've got to go."

Marcus blinked. "Go? Go Where?"

"I'm in a hurry," she said without looking at him,

"I wasn't supposed to get stuck in Yonder that long. There are things I've got to do."

Marcus stood up too, frowning as Ella began walking away from him.

"But I don't know anything about this place. I just woke up in a coffin, got chased through a haunted hallway, and dropped back to right where I started."

Ella sighed, "Look, I get it, you're lost. But I can't help you get home."

She started walking off, tightening her cloak as she moved.

"Wait..." Marcus stepped forward. "Can you at least take me to the House of Ashbourne?"

Hearing that, Ella froze in place, turned back slowly, with brows furrowed.

"How do you know that name?"

He hesitated, then lifted the diary from his hoodie and held it up.

"I'll explain once we get there… Promise."

Ella studied him for a long second, then finally exhaled and gave a slight nod.

"Funny enough… that's exactly where I was heading."

She turned back around and started walking again.

"Come on then," she said. "You can tag along, but don't slow me down."

Marcus followed her into the street, the market still buzzing behind them,

The city of Everborn during the day looked even more different.

As they walked, Marcus looked around with wide eyes. Tall black buildings stood next to crooked wooden houses as lanterns floated in the air like fireflies beside them all. A boy ran by, chasing a paper bird that flew on its own. Street vendors sold things from glowing jars, saying strange words to make them move. "What are those?" Marcus asked, pointing at a group of armored men whose capes shimmered like oil on water.

"Those are the Royal Guards," Ella said. "Sworn to serve the Crown... and silence Heralds when they step out of line."

"And that?" he asked, watching a woman in a cloak whisper to a floating slate that glowed as it wrote back. 

"Spell tablets," Ella said casually. "Helps her track trades. It's mostly merchant tech now, but it was previously used for war."

Every street felt strange and full of stories. A man with no mouth played a flute. A clock tower chimed slowly, its hands turned.

As the sun sank, Everborn's shadows stretched out long and thin.

Soon, the busy city faded into quiet streets and old buildings. The air became still as the scent of spice and smoke was replaced by cold stone and silence.

They reached the outskirts, there, perched on a lonely hill behind an ancient black gate, stood the House of Ashbourne.

A church-like structure, but wrong. It had twisting spires that clawed up at the sky.

Its facade was carved with angels, hundreds of them, each weeping. 

Some reached for heaven, others covered their faces. But there was one thing they all had in common. All of them were crying.

Marcus slowed to a stop, staring up at the towering structure.

"This place… why he hell is it so creepy?"

Ella didn't answer at first. Her gaze lingered on the statues, then she turned back to Marcus,

"We're here," she said as she glanced at him.

"Now... tell me how you knew the name Ashbourne." 

Ella came to a stop in front of a tall, black gate.

It was built from heavy stone, covered in vines, worn and cracked with age. A line of the creepy angel statues stood above it, all with their faces in their hands, as if crying for something long lost to time.

Marcus stopped next to her, breathing hard. The wind had turned cold, slipping past them like soft whispers.

Ella spoke quietly. "This is it, The House of Ashbourne."

Marcus stared up at the building. It looked more like a cathedral than a house, with tall towers, stained stone, and heavy iron doors.

He swallowed hard as he kept staring at the humongous structure.

Ella looked over at him, her tone sharpened now.

"Now, tell me. How do you know that name?"

Marcus reached into his black hoodie without a word and pulled out the small leather book the old man had given him.

Ella's eyes narrowed the moment she saw the cover. She stopped moving and just kept staring.

"Where did you get that?" she asked, her voice lowering her voice.

"I told you already," Marcus said. "Some old guy gave it to me. Said it used to belong to a friend of his."

She stared at the book for a long time, then finally nodded.

"Alright," she said. "Come on. But don't say anything stupid."

She pushed open the stone doors and they groaned loudly as they swung inward.

The inside was darker than the outside. Marcus noticed it was much darker than it was supposed to be.

Candles flickered on the walls, casting a faint glow from black iron holders as shadows shifted and crept across every surface.

And the angel statues… There were so many. Dozens, maybe hundreds.

They filled the halls, stood silently in corners, and sat curled in small alcoves carved into the stone. Each one hid its face in its hands, quietly weeping.

Marcus looked around the interior, feeling uneasy. The air felt cold and stale, like it hadn't been breathed in for years.

Ella turned to him, her voice a whisper now.

"Stay here," she said. "I need to go to the Most Holy Place."

Marcus raised an eyebrow. "The what?"

She ignored the question and then said sharply,

"Don't follow me, don't touch anything, and whatever happens… just wait."

Before he could reply, Ella was gone, walking through a narrow archway and vanishing into the deeper shadows.

Marcus just stood there, unsure of what to do. Then, spotting an old stone bench, he walked over to it and sat down.

For a while, it was quiet, the kind of quiet that made you hear your own heartbeat.

Bored, he opened the book, but before he could start reading, something made him stop.

He felt it like something had shifted right on top of him.

He quickly looked up. And noticed something, it was as if one of the angel statues was different now.

It had moved, he was sure of it.

Before, it had been facing the wall. Now, its head was tilted, just slightly as if it were watching him.

He slowly shut the book and tucked it under his hoodie.

A sound reached his ears.

Humming.

Light, Soft, Childlike.

Then came singing, just a few notes, drifting through the air like they were being whispered through the stone.

Marcus turned around slowly and saw someone. A figure stood at the far end of the hall. It wasn't moving, it was just there.

It wore long, black robes, and its face was covered with a smooth porcelain mask.

No eyes, no mouth, just a blank white face staring back at him.

Marcus blinked, and then the figure was suddenly closer.

It hadn't moved or made a sound. But now it was only a few meters away from him.

He stood up, heart pounding, and looked around.

This time, there were more statues than before. They were everywhere.

Behind him, to the sides, near the walls, by the ceiling.

He was completely surrounded.

The figure in the mask raised its hands slowly and Marcus suddenly dropped to the ground. Just like that.

He didn't fall, he just dropped as if his legs just stopped working.

A sharp pain suddenly exploded through his body.

He looked down and what he saw shocked him almost to death… it was… Blood, a lot of it.

He turned and froze, as he noticed the two angel statues right behind him. Their hands were red, dripping with his blood, they had torn through his legs. He began to breathe heavily and fast, then screamed.

"Ahhhhhhhhh!"