Archie POV
Templar Cathedral
Present Day
The crypt beneath the Templar Cathedral smells of damp stone and stale air. My flashlight's beam cuts through the dark, tracing the rough walls of a narrow passage. The air's thick, heavy with silence. A faint drip of water echoes deep. My pen's tucked behind my ear.
I adjust my glasses, fingers brushing my jaw.
The university's funds are running dry. I keep moving through the crypt.
What am I doing here?
My flashlight catches a glint on the wall—a sharp carving. I shuffle closer, boots scraping the floor. The air feels heavier, pressing my chest. The carving's a tangle of lines, not letters or pictures. Glyphs, maybe, old as time.
Is it the dark playing tricks?
I shake it off. I've been in creepy spots before. My pulse races. I snap a picture of the glyphs with my phone. The flash lights up the crypt.
Did something just move?
I squint into the corner. Nothing's there. Just shadows. I'm alone down here. My heart's pounding.
Am I really alone?
I kneel to look closer. The glyphs are deep, carved to last. My finger brushes one, cold and smooth. A jolt hits me, sharp like a spark. I jerk my hand back, cursing.
This place is messing with my head.
My nose itches. I touch it. My fingers come away wet. Blood. Must've bumped it in the tunnel.
What's happening?
A drop of blood hits the floor. It sinks into a crevice. I freeze. The crevice pulses, a faint red glow, like a heartbeat. My stomach twists.
That's not normal.
Another drop falls. The glow spreads, tracing crevices. I pull my sleeve over my nose, wary of the air. Old tombs can hide bad gas, traps. My head's foggy, but I keep watching.
Is the air toxic?
A third drop falls, despite my sleeve. The glow forms a circle under my feet. The same glyphs are etched into it. The air hums, low and deep. My sleeve stays pressed to my face.
What's causing this?
I stumble back. My flashlight shakes. The glow brightens, stones shift. They grind like gears. A slab sinks, revealing a chamber below.
How is this happening?
My breath catches. I should step back. My feet won't move. The chamber's open, dark and waiting. I try to turn toward the tunnel, but my legs feel stuck.
Why can't I leave?
I edge closer to the chamber. I peer into the darkness. Something floats in the center. An orb, black and shimmering, like liquid glass. It hovers, not touching the ground.
What is that thing?
Another drop of blood hits, slipping past my sleeve. The orb flares brighter. My head spins. This isn't science. It's something else.
Is this even real?
I try to back away, aiming for the tunnel. My boots drag, like the floor's holding me. The orb's glow pulls me in. I push against it, but my body won't obey. My sleeve's still at my nose.
What's stopping me?
My hand trembles. I reach out, sleeve at my nose. The orb feels warm, pulsing. My fingers are inches away. A voice whispers, soft and clear.
"You are chosen, Archibald."
My heart skips. The voice is calm, warm. God? That's insane. I've never heard voices before—blood loss? Bad air?
"Who are you?" I mutter, voice shaking.
Another voice cuts through, cold, sharp. "Take it. Break it. Claim it." My skin crawls. That one's wrong, evil. No job's worth this—I need a doctor.
"Shut up!" I snap, my voice echoing.
I don't believe in demons. Or do I? The orb pulses. The air hums, vibrating my bones. The walls shift. The glyphs glow brighter.
What's moving the walls?
I pull my hand back. My heart pounds. I'm not ready. The voices keep going. I touch my pen, behind my ear.
Which one's real?
The warm one says, "Step forward." The cold one hisses, "Take it now." My flashlight flickers. The crypt feels smaller, closing in. I try to turn toward the tunnel again, but my feet won't budge.
Why can't I move?
I step back. My boot catches a stone. The orb's glow doesn't fade. It's waiting. The voices clash in my head.
Are they in my head?
The hum grows louder. The orb pulses faster, impatient. I try to run for the tunnel, but my legs lock up. My breath's shallow through my sleeve. The warm voice speaks, softer.
"You must choose, Archibald."
The cold one laughs, cruel. "You can't run." My flashlight dies. The crypt goes dark. The orb's glow lights the chamber, casting shadows.
Why's my flashlight dead?
I shake it. Nothing. The orb's light is all I have. It's red, unsteady, pulsing with intent. The glyphs pulse with it.
Why's it reacting like that?
The air's thicker, pushing me toward the orb. I lean toward the tunnel, sleeve tight to my face. My legs won't move. The warm voice whispers, "Trust me." The cold one sneers, "Trust yourself."
"Stop talking!" I shout, voice hoarse.
I take a deep breath through my sleeve. My hands shake. The orb's there, floating, waiting. My nosebleed drips past my sleeve. The orb flares, brighter.
What's triggering it?
The hum's deafening. It shakes the stones. The chamber feels bigger, like it's part of something vast. I reach out again. My fingers tremble.
What's it doing?
The orb's warmth pulls me. The voices fight in my head. The warm one feels true, guiding. The cold one promises power, but it's wrong. I freeze, hand hovering.
Is this a trap?
I glance at the tunnel. It's pitch black, the way out hidden. My chest tightens. The air's harder to breathe, even through my sleeve. Is it the blood loss, or something in the crypt?
Am I stuck here?
The crypt shakes, a rumble from below. Dust falls. The orb pulses faster, urgent. I try to step back, but my feet stick to the floor. My heart races.
What's holding me?
The walls groan, like they're straining. The glyphs flare, brighter than ever. Another drop of blood escapes my sleeve, hitting the floor. The orb surges, its light swallowing the chamber. My ears ring with the hum.
What's it doing now?
I push toward the tunnel, but my body won't move. The voices scream, relentless. The warm one pleads, "Choose." The cold one mocks, "Too late." The air presses me back toward the orb.
Why can't I get out?
The chamber shakes harder. Stones crack above me. The orb's glow pulses wildly, like it's about to burst. I stumble, my hand brushing the orb. Everything goes white.
Where am I going?
Notes: Day 55
Discovery of an undocumented chamber beneath the Templar Cathedral, accessed via a mechanism triggered by blood contact with glyph-inscribed stonework. Glyphs are of unknown origin, potentially predating the cathedral (circa 12th century). Chamber contains a suspended orb, material unidentified, exhibiting anomalous luminescence and thermal properties. Auditory phenomena observed: two distinct voices. The first, calm and authoritative, suggests purpose; the second, hostile and coercive, implies manipulation. Hypothesis: the orb is an artifact tied to esoteric Templar or pre-Templar practices. Further observation required to determine function and source of auditory effects. Noted: blood may act as a biological trigger for the mechanism. Implications unclear. Potential instability in chamber structure noted; seismic activity possible.