They moved quickly.
Ben carved the ancient symbols into the stones using his knife, working up a sweat under the cold, heavy air. Each symbol seemed to hum with power once completed.
Sarah stood in the center, reading the chant from the book aloud. The words were thick and wrong in her mouth—alien syllables that didn't belong in any human throat. Still, she forced them out.
Mark stood over the central slab, the necklace of his grandfather around his neck, his hand clenched tightly.
Then... the forest erupted.
From the shadows came movement—slithering, twitching, scuttling. Dozens of creatures burst through the trees, their limbs twisted, faces blank, eyes non-existent. Tentacles flailed. Screeches pierced the night.
Ben swung his machete at the first. Sarah screamed but kept chanting.
Mark stepped onto the center stone, heart racing, the final words of the chant echoing around him. He drew a knife across his palm and let the blood drip onto the stone.
He closed his eyes and whispered, "This is for you, Grandpa."
A bright light exploded upward.
The monsters screamed in unison, their bodies twisting and writhing as they were pulled backward—sucked into the sky, the ground, the stones.
Then, silence.
YOU ARE READING
The dark Inheritance: The Gate to HELL
HorrorWhen Mark inherits his grandfather's remote farmhouse, he thinks it's a chance to escape his crumbling city life. But the peaceful countryside holds ancient secrets-and something far darker than he ever imagined. Beneath the ruins of a rusted barn l...
