Chapter 2 — The Sigil’s Whisper
Ashley
The sigil burned faintly beneath Ashley’s shirt as she stared at herself in the bathroom mirror, the flickering light overhead doing little to soften the lines of her face. Her amber eyes stared back, sharp and unblinking, shadows pooling beneath them from a sleepless night. The pupils—longer, narrower—seemed to pierce her reflection in a way that made her stomach twist.
She leaned closer, her breath fogging the glass. Somewhere, deep in the back of her mind, a voice stirred.
“It’s nothing. You’re just tired,” she muttered, though the lie felt brittle in the stillness of the room.
The voice—the one that wasn’t hers—had been quiet since she escaped the forest, but not absent. It lingered beneath her thoughts, an ever-present pressure that frayed the edges of her sanity. Sometimes, the sigil pulsed in response: a flicker of heat, a whisper of something less than words but more than silence. A warning. A threat. A promise.
Ashley gripped the edge of the sink, fighting the tremor in her fingers. The fabric of her sweatshirt shifted as she tugged it higher, covering the faint glow of the sigil etched into her chest. The weight of it—of the thing inside her—felt unbearable, as though her very skin carried the burden of something ancient and alien.
She turned away from the mirror and splashed cold water on her face, the shock of it grounding her for a moment. But the memory of those ember eyes—the creature’s gaze, predatory and eternal—remained.
When Ashley finally stepped out of the bathroom, the house was still. Quiet. Only the faint murmur of the television reached her ears, its sound muffled like a distant echo. Caleb was likely sprawled on the couch, the way he always was on lazy Sunday afternoons.
Her boots scuffed against the worn floorboards as she moved down the hall, each step heavier than the last. She hesitated at the doorway to the living room, guilt coiling tighter in her chest. Caleb didn’t deserve any of this—her secrets, her fear. But then, neither did she.
The living room was dim, lit only by the flicker of cartoons on the TV. Caleb was curled up under a blanket, his dark curls sticking out in wild angles as he snatched blindly for the bowl of popcorn on the coffee table. He didn’t notice her at first, his attention absorbed in the animated chaos on the screen.
“Hey,” Ashley said, her voice cracking slightly.
Caleb glanced over, his face lighting up as he saw her. The look made her chest ache. He always looked at her like she was unshakable, like she could fix anything. If only he knew.
“’Bout time you got up,” he teased, tossing a piece of popcorn at her. “You were out so late last night. Dad was freaking out, you know.”
Ashley caught the popcorn midair and tossed it back into the bowl, forcing a weak smile. “Yeah, well, I’m fine. Just needed some air.”
Caleb’s teasing expression slipped, replaced by quiet curiosity. “You went to the forest, didn’t you?”
Her stomach dropped. She forced a casual shrug, though her fingers tightened against the fabric of her sleeves. “What makes you say that?”
“’Cause you’ve got that look.” Caleb sat up, pulling the blanket tighter around him. “The one you get when you’ve been doing something you’re not supposed to.”
Ashley laughed, sharper than intended. “What do you know about it, huh? You’re just a kid.”
His brows furrowed, stubbornness tightening his expression. For a moment, she saw their dad in him—the same quiet resolve that refused to back down. “I’m not stupid,” Caleb said softly. “The forest is dangerous, Ash. You know what people say about it. About Mom.”
Her breath hitched. The sigil beneath her sweatshirt pulsed faintly, the heat matching the frantic rhythm of her heartbeat. “Caleb, don’t.”
He hesitated, his voice dropping to a whisper. “Did you see anything?”
The question hit her like a blow. Ashley stared at him, her throat dry, the weight of everything she’d seen pressing down on her. The creature. The sigil. The voice. How could she explain any of it? How could she tell him that the forest had taken something from her, twisted it into something she didn’t understand?
“No,” she said finally, her voice flat. “There’s nothing in the forest. Just stupid old trees.”
Caleb didn’t look convinced, but he didn’t press her further. He retreated back into his blanket cocoon, his shoulders hunched as though guarding himself from the cold. Ashley turned away before he could see the guilt etched across her face.
---
The air outside was brisk, sunlight filtering weakly through the clouds. Ashley hoped the chill would clear her head, but the pressure in her chest only grew worse, the sigil’s faint heat pulsing like a second heartbeat.
She walked the gravel path leading away from the house, each step accompanied by the crunch of tiny stones beneath her boots. The world felt different—off. The trees, their silver-gray bark gleaming faintly, seemed taller, more menacing. The shadows stretched unnaturally long, reaching across the ground like grasping fingers. Even the hum of insects, faint but persistent, grated against her ears with a sharpness that made her flinch.
She stopped at the wooden fence her father had built years ago, its boards weathered with time. Gripping the cold wood, Ashley felt her breath catch as the voice stirred again, coiling in the back of her mind like a predator waiting to strike.
“You’ve been quiet long enough,” she muttered under her breath. Her fingers dug into the wood as though it could anchor her. “What do you want?”
For a moment, there was only the sound of the wind, rustling the branches of the trees. Then, like smoke curling through her thoughts, the voice answered.
*You are bound to me, whether you accept it or not.*
Ashley flinched, the words threading through her mind like a whispered threat. “Bound to what? You? Some smoky monster that can’t even hold its shape? Yeah, sure, sign me up.”
The voice rumbled, low and faintly amused. *Defiant. They always are at first. But you will learn, child.*
“I’m not your child,” Ashley snapped, her grip tightening. “And I’m not your vessel or whatever you think I am. I don’t belong to you.”
*You carry my mark, girl. My power flows through your veins. You cannot deny what you are.*
The sigil flared beneath her sweatshirt, a jolt of heat radiating through her chest. Ashley stumbled back, clutching the fabric as her vision swam. The world around her dimmed, shadows creeping in at the edges of her sight as the voice wrapped tighter around her thoughts.
*You feel it, don’t you? The strength. The potential. It is only a matter of time before you embrace it.*
Ashley’s breath hitched as her legs wavered beneath her. Part of her—some traitorous, buried part—did feel it. A surge of power, almost intoxicating in its intensity. But she shoved the thought away, grinding her teeth. “Fine. You want to talk? Then talk. Why me? Why now?”
The voice paused, its presence stretching the silence. When it spoke again, its tone carried an ancient weight.
*The sigil binds your bloodline to the cycle. The time has come again, as it always does.*
Ashley’s stomach clenched. “My blood? What does that mean? What does this have to do with my family? With my mom?”
The voice hesitated, almost reluctant. *She fought well to keep me away. But the cycle cannot be broken. Only delayed.*
Her breath caught. Memories of her mother’s warm smile and quiet strength flickered painfully in her mind. She had vanished so many years ago, leaving only whispers and unanswered questions. What had she done?
“No,” Ashley whispered, shaking her head. “You’re lying. She wouldn’t—”
*You will see the truth in time.*
The voice retreated, leaving silence in its wake. The sigil’s heat faded, but the weight in Ashley’s chest remained, heavier now with the burden of new questions.
As she turned toward the house, her legs felt like lead, her mind racing. Whatever this thing was, it wasn’t going to let her hide. Not from the sigil. Not from her past.
But she could still fight.
When she reached the porch, Caleb peeked out from behind the door, his face scrunched with worry. She forced a smile, though it felt brittle.
“You good?” he asked cautiously.
“Yeah,” Ashley lied, ruffling his hair as she moved past him. “I’m fine.”
The sigil pulsed faintly, mocking her.
Fine wouldn’t last long. And Ashley knew it.
