CHAPTER 252: THE CURSE OF THE MIST

Kael nodded firmly, feeling the weight of responsibility grow on his shoulders. Klee, still panting, began to lead the way through the trees, blazing an uncertain trail through the thick fog that seemed to swallow every step. The air was cold and damp, and the fog—dense and almost palpable—curled around Kael’s legs as if trying to trap him there forever.

The silence of the forest was broken only by the occasional sound of branches breaking and dry leaves being crushed, but nothing else seemed alive or natural. The feeling of being watched did not leave Kael; the fog distorted the light and shapes, creating illusions that made his skin crawl.

"This fog..." Kael muttered, squinting to see beyond the gray curtain. "It seems... alive."

Klee looked back, her expression tense. "It’s the curse. The closer we get to the village, the stronger it gets. It makes us lose track of time, of space... and if you’re not careful, you may never leave here."

Kael nodded, keeping his hand close to his dagger and his senses on high alert. The winding path seemed endless, and each step was a battle against growing fear.

Finally, through the veil of fog, something appeared that made Kael freeze for a moment: the first houses of the village. But they were no ordinary houses—their walls were worn, covered with moss and dirt, windows broken and doors hanging from their hinges, as if time had forgotten this place. The silence that dominated the village was deep, almost suffocating.

Kael took a deep breath and moved forward, his eyes searching for any sign of life. That was when he saw the villagers.

They did not walk, they staggered—their movements were erratic, clumsy, almost as if they had been torn from a nightmare. Their clothes were torn and dirty, their faces pale with empty stares and dilated pupils that did not correspond to any conscious thought. Some held farming tools, but their arms moved aimlessly, as if they were uncontrolled puppets.

What shocked Kael most was their expressions: half-open mouths, guttural mutterings and disjointed whispers, incoherent words mixed with muffled cries and a constant murmur of pleas for relief. It was as if each villager was trapped in a limbo of pain and madness.

Klee swallowed hard, fear evident in her eyes. "This... this is no longer my village," she whispered, her voice breaking. "These people... they’re not really alive. They’ve been taken over by something terrible."

Kael felt his stomach churn, the scene before him reminiscent of stories of darkness that consumed even the strongest souls. He crouched slightly, maintaining a defensive stance, analyzing his surroundings.

"They seem possessed," he said, his voice low. "Or undead... something in between. But not ordinary zombies. They have fragmented consciousness, pain, fear... but they can’t escape it."

Suddenly, a nearby villager slowly turned toward him. His eyes met Kael’s for a moment—or so it seemed—and the confusion mixed with anger in his gaze made Kael’s heart race. The man let out a hoarse groan, shaking his head as if trying to ward off invisible pain.

Klee took a step back, her arms trembling. "I don’t want to stay here," she whispered, almost crying. "Please, Kael, let’s go. Now."

Kael raised his hand, signaling calm, but his expression was serious. "I know you want to, Klee. But if you try to leave now, the fog will swallow you up again. You’ll get lost, and the forest won’t let you go so easily."

The girl looked at him, her eyes wide and shining with fear. "Then what do we do? Stay here and...?" Her voice broke.

"First, we need to understand what caused this," Kael replied, looking around the deserted village. "If this corruption spreads, no one will be safe. Not here, not in the other villages."

Klee took a deep breath, wiping away a tear that had escaped. "I know where the center of the village is. The village chief’s house. He used to be a wise man, but... now, I don’t know. They say he tried to fight this darkness, but no one knows what happened to him."

Kael nodded. "Then let’s start there. But stay alert. We don’t know what might be waiting for us."

They advanced cautiously, doing their best to avoid attracting the attention of the possessed villagers. The fog seemed to thicken even more, and the shadows around them seemed to move subtly, as if stalking their footsteps.

On a side street, Kael stopped abruptly. A group of villagers was gathered around a dying fire, their eyes glowing red in the dim light of the fog. One of them turned abruptly toward them, letting out a shrill cry that sounded like a mixture of supplication and threat.

"Stay behind me," Kael ordered, and the girl obeyed, stepping back a little.

The cry echoed through the village, and other villagers began to move slowly toward them, muttering in broken tongues and emitting guttural sounds.

Klee gripped Kael’s hand tightly, panic rising in her chest. "Kael, I can’t take this anymore. Let’s go."

"I know it’s hard," he replied, "but we have to keep going. If the village is like this, the center may have the answers we need."

They moved faster, their hearts racing, the feeling that they were walking into a trap becoming more and more real.

Finally, they reached the village chief’s house. The door was ajar, creaking in the icy wind that blew through the place. Kael pushed the door slowly, revealing a dark and damp interior, with overturned furniture and strange marks on the walls—like symbols of black magic, burned into the wood.

In the center of the room, an old book lay open on a table, its yellowed pages covered with notes and drawings of unknown runes. Around it were traces of an ancient struggle—dried blood, broken glass, and an oppressive sense of suffering.

Klee swallowed hard. "This is... where he tried to fight the curse. He was trying to protect the village."

Kael examined the notes. "If this corruption started here, it could be a clue to undoing the spell... or at least containing the curse."

Suddenly, a low moan rose from behind them. Kael spun around, seeing a shadow move in the corner of the room. The red eyes of a possessed villager glowed in the dark, his mouth opening in a silent scream.

"Get ready, Klee," Kael murmured, raising his dagger. "We can’t fail."

Klee swallowed hard, her fingers trembling as she gripped the small blade she carried. The shadow in the corner of the room advanced slowly, its jagged silhouette contorting in disjointed, frightening movements. The sound of the low moan echoed through the damp, gloomy room, mingling with the distant sound of the hissing mist outside.

Kael positioned himself between Klee and the creature, his eyes alert, searching for any weakness or opening. The possessed villager seemed more conscious than the others, his red eyes glowing with a sinister intensity—a mixture of rage and agony. His movements, though slow, had a restrained violence, a latent threat.

Suddenly, he took a step forward, emitting a guttural sound that seemed like an attempt to vocalize a word, something almost human but distorted by torment. Kael realized that the creature was trying to communicate, but the words were lost in a whirlwind of pain.

"No... we’re... trapped..." The voice was almost inaudible, like a broken whisper.

Klee pulled Kael by the sleeve, fear overflowing in his eyes. "Kael, what is this? What happened to them?"

He shook his head, focused. "I don’t know exactly, but it seems that the curse not only transformed their bodies, but imprisoned their souls. They are conscious, but trapped in a cycle of suffering."

A noise coming from the hallway made them turn quickly. Other possessed villagers were beginning to invade the house, attracted by the sound and presence of the two strangers. Their shuffling footsteps and the sound of distorted moans filled the air.

"We have to get out of here, Klee. Now," Kael warned, taking her hand firmly.

Klee hesitated, looking back one last time at the red eyes watching them, before running toward the exit. Kael followed her, dodging the villagers surrounding them. The door creaked violently as Kael pushed it open, and they stepped out into the cold street, where the fog seemed even denser.

"This village... is trapped in a nightmare," Klee murmured, panting. "I don’t know if we’ll be able to save anyone."

Kael looked at the fog around him, feeling the air charged with evil energy. "The key is in that book. We need to understand what the village chief tried to do to fight this."

Klee nodded, wiping the sweat from his forehead. "But for now, we need to find a safe place. Something tells me this curse won’t give up easily."

Kael squeezed Klee’s hand, feeling the urgency in his grip. The fog, now thicker than ever, seemed to enclose them in an invisible prison. Each step they took seemed to take them deeper into a nightmare from which it would be difficult to awaken.

"Let’s try to find the church," Kael suggested, his voice steady despite his fear. "It’s the only place that, they say, still holds some protection against this darkness."

Klee nodded, and together they began to make their way along the muddy path between the decaying houses. The silence was oppressive, broken only by distant mutterings and the sound of the uncoordinated footsteps of the possessed villagers who still watched them, like doomed specters.

As they walked, Kael felt something brush against his leg. He looked down and saw a small creature scurrying away—a rat, grotesque and red-eyed, as corrupted as the villagers. A chill ran down his spine.

"They’re not just people... this curse has touched everything here," Kael muttered, kicking the animal away.

The village seemed to breathe a heavy air of despair and ancient violence. Kael and Klee passed a dry well, its edges stained with dried blood and symbols carved into the stone. Klee stopped, pointing to the inscriptions.

"This... is something the chief did to try to ward off the curse," she explained, her voice trembling. "But it didn’t work."

Suddenly, a distorted scream cut through the air—the sound of a child crying, but with a strange, almost inhuman tone. Kael instinctively grabbed Klee by the arm.

"That’s not normal crying. Stay alert."

They ran toward the sound, arriving at a small square where a group of possessed villagers surrounded a figure lying on the ground: a woman, covered in blood and her eyes glazed over in absolute terror.

Kael felt the pain and suffering emanating from her, like a suffocating wave. He crouched beside her, trying to understand if there was still any light there.

"Is she... alive?" Klee asked, her voice barely audible.

"Not for long," Kael replied, looking into the woman’s eyes, which were blinking vaguely. "This curse sucks out everything human."

Suddenly, a possessed villager staggered forward, letting out a menacing growl. Kael pulled Klee back and drew his dagger, ready to fight.

"We have to get out of here, now!" he ordered.

They ran across the square, dodging the villagers’ erratic attacks, the fog closing in around them like a deadly cloak. The sound of footsteps and screams echoed behind them as they desperately made their way toward the church.

When they finally reached the church door—an ancient building with worn stones and broken stained glass windows—Kael pushed it open with force. The loud creak sounded like a cry for help, but it was their only refuge.

Inside, the air was different. Despite the dust and neglect, there was a faint sense of peace and protection. Extinguished candles, broken pews, and on the altar, a wooden cross, half burned but still standing.

Klee knelt down, exhausted. "Is there still hope here?"