The Cursed Extra: Bloodline of Sacrifice - Chapter 81

Chapter 81: The Whispering Fog: Memories

Not a single person stirred.

It was like no one had heard it.

Or… like no one dared to react.

Ed’s jaw clenched. “That wasn’t normal.”

Zareth scanned the fog-covered streets. “It went toward the forest.”

Vynesaa didn’t hesitate. “Then we follow it.”

The trees loomed overhead as they moved through the jungle, the mist twisting through the branches.

The deeper they went, the quieter it became. No insects. No wind.

Then—

A structure in the distance.

A castle.

Dark stone, old and crumbling, partially swallowed by vines.

It stood alone in the jungle.

Ed felt the weight of it settle in his chest. “What the hell is this place?”

No answer.

Because no one knew.

They stood at the base of the worn stone steps, staring up at the entrance.

The doors were ajar.

Just enough to see inside.

Just enough to invite them in.

Zareth’s fingers twitched near his sword. “This feels like a trap.”

Vynesaa exhaled. “Then we should go back.”

A pause.

Ed didn’t like leaving unanswered questions. But this…

He nodded. “Agreed. Not without more information.”

They turned back.

The way the fog curled around the trees, the way the silence stretched—it felt like something was waiting.

Watching.

And as they left, the doors of the castle creaked open just a little wider.

By the time they reached the village, the air felt heavier.

The house was exactly as they left it.

But this time—

The village head was waiting outside.

Not startled. Not confused.

Waiting.

His dark eyes met theirs. He didn’t speak right away.

Then, slowly—

“You shouldn’t have followed it.”

His voice was calm. Too calm.

Vynesaa’s eyes narrowed. “You knew.”

The village head exhaled, rubbing his temples. He looked… tired.

Finally, he gestured toward the house. “Come inside.”

They followed.

As the door shut behind them, the atmosphere changed.

The warmth from earlier felt distant.

The village head sat down, elbows resting on the table.

“You saw it,” he said.

Not a question. A statement.

Ed crossed his arms. “And you knew it would be there.”

The village head didn’t react. Instead, he leaned forward, voice quiet.

“People disappear here.”

A heavy silence followed.

“For how long?” Zareth asked.

The man’s gaze darkened. “Years.”

His wife finally spoke, voice barely above a whisper.

“Not every night. Not even every month. But when it happens…” She hesitated. “The person is never found.”

Ed felt his stomach tighten. “And no one does anything?”

The village head’s jaw clenched. “What would you have us do?”

“Leave or tell police about it.”

His lips pressed into a thin line. “It’s not that simple.”

“It’s simple though,” Ed thought

Vynesaa’s gaze sharpened. “Then you know what’s taking them.”

Village head’s gaze flickered toward the window.

“Not what,” he said.

“Who.”

Ed felt something cold settle in his chest.

Outside, beyond the thin wooden walls of the house, the village remained silent.

And for the first time since arriving, he realized—

It wasn’t just the cold making his skin crawl.

.

Morning came slowly.

Ed hadn’t slept much. None of them had.

The village head’s words sat heavy in his mind.

“Not what. Who.”

The question remained: Who was taking them?

Or perhaps more importantly—why?

.

Over breakfast, they made their choice.

“We go back to castle,” Zareth said simply, cutting through the silence.

Vynesaa nodded.

Ed was quiet for a moment.

His thoughts lingered on the castle. On the way its doors had stood slightly open, like it had been waiting for them.

Something was there.

Something wrong.

He exhaled. “Alright.”

They rose from the table.

And that’s when it happened.

As they moved toward the door, Ed brushed past the village head’s wife.

It was nothing—just the faintest touch of his fingers against her arm as he passed.

A heartbeat later—

Pain.

Blinding, searing pain shot through his skull.

His vision blurred.

Then—

Darkness.

________

A dimly lit room.

A broken mirror.

A woman stood before it, trembling.

Her hands clutched the edges of the sink.

Her breath came in ragged gasps, her chest rising and falling too quickly.

Tears streaked her face.

But it wasn’t the crying that sent a chill through Ed.

It was what she was doing.

THUD! THID!

She was slamming her forehead against the mirror.

Over and over.

Each impact sent cracks across the glass, distorting her reflection.

Blood trickled down her skin, but she didn’t stop.

Her shoulders shook with silent sobs.

And then—

A shadow moved behind her.

A man.

Tall. Broad-shouldered.

Reeking of alcohol.

She froze.

The room went silent.

Her reflection—shattered and fragmented—watched as she slowly turned.

“H-husband… dear…” she whispered, voice barely audible.

The man stepped closer. His breath was heavy, uneven.

And then—

SLAM!

The first blow landed.

She crumpled to the ground.

SLAM!

Another strike. And another.

Her body curled inward, arms trying to shield herself, but it didn’t matter.

The blows kept coming.

Fists.

Feet. Words.

“You think you can talk back to me?”

SLAM!

Another hit.

“You think you can just cry all night like a damn child?”

Another.

She didn’t scream. She didn’t beg.

She just took it.

Took it like she had every time before.

And then—

The door.

It was open.

A chance.

Run.

She moved before she could think, her body acting on pure desperation.

Out the door. Down the street.

Barefoot on the cold ground.

Behind her, the man stumbled, cursing.

She ran.

Ran until her lungs burned. Until her legs shook.

Until the houses gave way to fields, to forests, to freedom.

And there—

She met him.

The village head.

Standing beneath the moonlight, his expression unreadable as he watched her collapse at his feet.

And when she looked up, with tears and blood streaking her face, he didn’t speak.

He just held out his hand.

________

Ed’s breath hitched.

He staggered back, his heart slamming against his ribs as reality rushed in.

The room. The light.

The village head’s wife staring at him.

Her lips were parted slightly, her expression unreadable.

He sucked in a shaky breath.

His hands were trembling.

“What…” His voice came out hoarse. He swallowed, trying to steady himself. “What was that?”

No answer.

The village head’s wife didn’t react.

She just watched him.

Ed looked to Zareth and Vynesaa, but neither of them seemed to have noticed anything.

They were standing by the door, waiting for him to move.

Which meant—

It had been only him.

Only he had seen it.

He exhaled slowly, his mind racing.

This wasn’t normal.

Even for him.

Why had he seen that?

And more importantly—what did it mean?

He cast one last glance at the village head’s wife.

She was still staring.

And for the briefest moment—just a flicker—

He thought she looked afraid.