The morning brought no clarity, only a deepening sense of foreboding. Elias stood in the shed, his hands pressed against the edge of the table as he stared at the journal. The words Abel Carter had written swirled in his mind like a dark chant: “The Veil sees all.”
The vial remained hidden beneath the floorboards, its ominous presence lingering in his thoughts. It was a gamble to keep it, but Elias felt an inexplicable pull toward understanding its purpose. Destroying it would be simple—but knowledge, no matter how dangerous, was a weapon.
The air was heavy, damp from the storm. Outside, the cemetery glistened under a pale sun, the gravestones standing like silent sentinels.
Elias’s thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the shed door. This time, it wasn’t the ominous knocking of the previous night. It was hurried, almost desperate.
He grabbed the spade out of habit and moved cautiously to the door. “Who’s there?”
“It’s me, Jonas!”
Elias opened the door to find the barkeep standing there, his face pale and his eyes darting nervously. Jonas’s usually jovial demeanor was replaced with something far darker a man teetering on the edge of panic.
“They know, Elias,” Jonas said, pushing his way into the shed and slamming the door behind him. “The Veil knows you’ve been digging where you shouldn’t.”
Elias frowned, gripping the spade tighter. “What are you talking about? What do they know?”
Jonas paced the small room, wringing his hands. “Last night, someone came into the tavern. One of theirs a Watcher. They didn’t ask for you outright, but they didn’t have to. The questions, the way they looked at me… they’re circling, Elias. They’re waiting for you to make a mistake.”
Elias felt a cold knot form in his stomach. “Why are you telling me this?”
Jonas stopped pacing and looked at him, his expression a mixture of fear and guilt. “Because I owe you. You saved my brother’s life when no one else would. But I can’t protect you from them, Elias. No one can.”Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.
Jonas’s warning lingered long after the barkeep had left. The idea that the Black Veil was actively hunting him turned his unease into a palpable dread. They weren’t just an abstract force anymore—they were here, in his world, closing in.
He sat back at the table, staring at the journal. Abel’s words suddenly felt more like a prophecy than a warning.
“Trust no one.”
Elias leaned forward, flipping through the pages again. Each passage seemed more urgent, more cryptic, than the last. Then his eyes fell on something new, a page he hadn’t noticed before.
The handwriting was different, sharper, as if written in haste:
“When the Veil sends its Watchers, they come not for answers but for silence. Do not run. Do not hide. Draw them into the light, for shadows are their refuge.”
The words chilled Elias. He’d heard of the Watchers figures spoken of in hushed tones by the town’s drunkards and gossips. They were said to be the enforcers of the Veil, faceless and merciless.
But drawing them into the light? It sounded like a death wish.
Elias closed the journal, his thoughts a tangled mess. The answers he sought were buried in secrets Abel had taken to his grave. And if the Watchers were coming, Elias needed more than just warnings and riddles—he needed a plan.
The day passed in uneasy silence. Elias stayed in the shed, going over Abel’s notes and the cryptic carvings on the medallion. He sketched the symbols in his notebook, comparing them to the few references in the journal.
As dusk approached, he made his way to the church. If anyone in the town knew about the Watchers, it would be Father Bennett.
The church was empty, its stone walls bathed in the golden light of the setting sun. The priest stood at the altar, lighting the last of the evening candles. He turned as Elias entered, his expression guarded.
“Elias,” Bennett said, his voice low. “You shouldn’t be here.”
“I need answers,” Elias said, stepping forward. “About the Watchers. About the Veil.”
Bennett stiffened, his hand tightening around the brass candlestick. “You’re playing a dangerous game, gravedigger. The kind that ends with a shallow grave and no one to mourn you.”
“They’re already watching me,” Elias said. “If I’m going to fight them, I need to know what I’m up against.”
The priest’s gaze softened, though his expression remained grim. He gestured for Elias to follow him into the vestry.
The room was small and dimly lit, filled with the scent of old wood and candle wax. Bennett closed the door behind them, his voice barely above a whisper.
“The Watchers are the Veil’s eyes and ears,” he said. “They’re not men, not entirely. What they are… is unnatural. They see into the soul, Elias. They know your fears, your doubts, your sins. And they use them against you.”
“How do I stop them?” Elias asked.
Bennett shook his head. “You don’t. The only way to survive is to stay out of their path. If they’ve marked you, there’s no escape.”
Elias clenched his fists. “There has to be a way. Abel Carter fought them.”
The priest’s face darkened at the mention of Abel. “And look where it got him. Dead and buried, his secrets with him.”
“Not all of them,” Elias said, pulling the medallion from his pocket. “He left this. And a journal.”
Bennett stared at the medallion, his expression unreadable. “You’ve gone too far, Elias. That’s no ordinary token it’s a key. And the door it opens is one you’re not prepared to walk through.”
Elias stepped closer. “Then tell me how to use it. Help me fight them.”
The priest sighed, his shoulders slumping. “If you truly mean to defy the Veil, you’ll need more than faith. You’ll need to understand what they fear. But know this: the price of truth is always blood.”
Elias nodded, his resolve hardening. “I’ve already paid that price. Now it’s their turn.”
As Elias left the church, the first stars appeared in the night sky. The Watchers were coming, and he knew the fight ahead would test every ounce of his strength and courage.
But for the first time, he felt ready.