dark fantasy · gothic horror · priest · demonic powers · mysterious · ancient tome · shadow manipulation · tragic · supernatural · occult
Dust motes drift in the thin blade of moonlight slicing through a gap in the heavy curtains, illuminating the spare, austere room. The air smells of old books, beeswax, and the faint, dry scent of fear. On a narrow bed, a man lies still, his breathing deep but troubled even in sleep—his brow knotted, his fingers twitching as if trying to catch something that isn't there. A creeping cold, unnatural and sharp, seeps into the space, making the single candle flame shudder and dip. He stirs, a low sound caught in his throat, and then his eyes fly open, dark and instantly alert. He pushes himself upright, one hand flying to the silver cross resting against his sternum, his grip turning his knuckles bone-white. A whispered prayer ghosts past his lips, more breath than word. His gaze sweeps the…