Chapter 16: The Ritual of the Forgotten
The house groaned.
It wasn't just a creak from old wood or the wind pressing against the windows it was a deep, guttural sound. Alive. Breathing. Watching.
Lerato stood in the center of the room, the candle flickering in her trembling hand. Thabo and Simo stood close, both trying to mask the fear that had sunk into their bones. The blood on the walls from the previous night had dried into deep brown stains, but the stench of rot remained.
They hadn't slept.
After discovering the bleeding walls and the whispers that seemed to rise from beneath the floorboards, they had barricaded themselves inside the room, hoping for daylight. But the sun never came.
Not inside the house.
Outside, it could've been morning, but the windows remained pitch black as if the forest itself had swallowed the light.
I had a dream, Simo whispered, his voice hoarse. The house… it was feeding.Lerato turned to him sharply. What do you mean?
I saw them. People. Dozens of them. Screaming. Their souls trapped in this place.
Thabo scoffed, but there was no confidence behind it. Dreams aren't real.This one was, Simo said. And it told me something about a ritual. A way to escape.Lerato's eyes narrowed. A ritual?
He nodded. But it's dangerous. We'd have to go to the center of the house. The Heart Room.Thabo crossed his arms. What the hell is the Heart Room?
Simo pointed to the map they had drawn earlier from the old blueprints they found under the staircase. It's not on the blueprint. But in my dream, it was behind the third basement door the one chained shut.
Lerato swallowed. The one with the symbols etched into the walls?Yeah, he said. We have to break it open.But the voices...Thabo began.
Are trying to stop us, Simo interrupted. They don't want us to find it.For a long moment, the three stood in silence.Then Lerato spoke. Let's do it.
They moved cautiously, retracing their steps to the basement. The further down they went, the colder the air became. Their breath fogged before their faces. The stairs groaned with each step, and every sound echoed unnaturally long, as if something were listening and replying with silence.
They reached the final door.
It stood taller than the others, chained and padlocked, with ancient symbols carved deeply into the wood. Lerato reached for the bolt cutters they had found in the attic.
The lock snapped. The chain slithered to the ground like a dying snake.The door creaked open.Darkness spilled out like smoke.They stepped in.
The Heart Room wasn't made of wood or stone it pulsed. The walls moved subtly, like the inside of a living thing. Red veins ran along the surface, and at the center stood a pedestal… with a book.
An ancient tome, bound in what looked like skin.This is it," Simo whispered. The ritual.
He opened the book. The pages moved on their own, flipping until they stopped at a page marked with blood.The Ritual of the Forgotten
To break the house's hold, one must offer what it feeds on fear, memory, sacrifice. Only then will it release the soul.What does that mean? Thabo asked.
Lerato stared at the text. I think… we each have to confront it. The thing we fear the most. Or lose the memory of something we love.
They all went silent.Then the floor beneath them shifted not collapsed, not cracked shifted. Like something waking up.
The walls moaned.
The door behind them slammed shut.A voice soft and ancient echoed around them:
Let the offering begin.
Lerato found herself alone.The room had vanished. The others were gone.She was standing in her childhood home.
The walls were familiar the green paint, the framed pictures, the scent of her mother's cooking.Lerato?She froze.It was her mother's voice.But her mother had died years ago.
She turned slowly… and there she was. Smiling. Whole. Alive.Come here, baby,the woman said.
Tears welled in Lerato's eyes. Mom?The woman held out her arms.Lerato stepped forward… then stopped.The walls flickered.The woman's eyes turned black.
The voice changed:Stay. Forget the pain. Let the house keep you.Lerato clenched her fists.
No.
She stepped back.
The illusion shattered. Her mother vanished in a scream.And the house roared.Thabo was back in his old school.
Children laughed around him. His bullies.He felt small, weak, ashamed.Then the laughter turned cruel. The faces twisted.
You never mattered, they said. You're nothing.The classroom door burst open, and shadowy figures dragged him toward the blackboard.
He screamed.
But then a voice echoed in his mind Lerato's.You're stronger than what they say.He stood tall.I am not nothing.The shadows shrieked… and vanished.
Simo stood in an alley.Blood stained his hands.A memory from long ago the day he couldn't save his sister.She had begged him to run, to hide. He didn't.She died.He'd carried the guilt for years.
You failed, a voice whispered. Because you are weak.Simo fell to his knees.I know, he whispered. But I'm done living in that pain.The air grew warm. Light poured into the alley.
The memory faded.And he woke up.They were back in the Heart Room.The book was gone.
But the door stood open.The house moaned… then fell silent.The darkness began to lift.A crack appeared in the wall sunlight.Real, warm, golden light.
They ran.
Through halls that no longer bled. Past rooms that no longer whispered.Out the front door.
Into the forest.They didn't stop running.Not until the house was far behind them, swallowed by the trees.
Hours later, they reached the village.An old man greeted them with wide eyes. You came from the forest?
Lerato nodded.
The house, the man whispered. It let you go?They nodded.Then… you must've given it what it wanted.They said nothing.
He simply stepped aside. You're free.They didn't feel free.Not yet.But they were alive.And the forest was finally quiet.