Chapter 87 Malevolence

"Wake up my love,"

He was awoken by a woman's sweet voice that seemed to dance on his eardrums. As he slowly opened his eyes, he saw a woman with striking features standing in front of him. She was like a rose, with beauty as mesmerizing as it was dangerous.

He slowly sat up, his eyes darting around the murky surroundings. The thick mist engulfed the carriage, limiting his visibility to only a few feet ahead.

"Where are we, Elizabeth?" he asked, his voice hushed, as if not wanting to draw attention.

"This is the secret path to Silent Hill, the birthplace of all witches," she answered with a sly smile.

Fenrir's eyes darted warily around the mist-encased carriage.

Witches were synonymous to wickedness and evil, a potent mix of cunning and malevolence that even vampires and werewolves avoided like the plague. They wielded curses and charms with ease, and were known to stop at nothing to achieve their twisted aims.

"Are you sure this place is safe?" he asked, his eyes locked on Elizabeth's.

"Don't worry, I'm acquainted with someone here," she reassured him, her tone firm and unwavering.

He nodded, feeling a little better. He trusted Elizabeth with his life, and he knew she wouldn't lead him into danger. But still, he remained vigilant, his eyes scanning the area for any signs of danger.

-Screech!

Miguel's(coach man) heart skipped a beat as the carriage came to an abrupt halt, throwing him off balance. He grasped the edge of his seat

Then the horses started whining in distress as black, shadowy flying figures began to swarm around them. But Fenrir and Elizabeth remained calm, poised for the inevitable confrontation.

"I'm going out ! " Fenrir's eyes instinctively turned gold, but Elizabeth placed a reassuring hand on his arm.

"Stay calm," she said, her voice steady despite the chaos around them. "These are the wraiths of Silent Hill. They won't harm us as long as we have the key."

"Are you sure ?" He asked with a hint of doubt.

"Trust me " Elizabeth answered with a smile.

"I trust you " Fenrir nodded, his eyes fixed on the swirling mass of shadows. He could feel the tension in the air, like the calm before a storm. He braced himself for the worst, ready to fight if necessary.

But then, Elizabeth raised her medallion, and the shadows began to recoil, shrieking in agony.

Fenrir watched in awe as the light from the medallion dispersed the mist, revealing the true nature of their surroundings. The mist cleared, and before them lay the winding path to Silent Hill, shrouded in mystery and danger.

"What an evil place! " he voice out his thoughts.

The road that stretched out before them was a barren wasteland of grey grass and twisted bones. The fences that lined the road were fashioned from the very remains of the dead, a macabre sight that would make any human vomit from disgust.

With a steady hand, he opened the carriage door and peered outside, taking in the crimson sky and the eerie silence that surrounded them. The air was thick with a strong smell of the dead, and even Fenrir, a creature of the night, felt a twinge of fear.

Fortunately, the specialized mask he wore filtered out most of the putrid smell.

As for Miguel , he had covered his face with a special cloth, safeguarding himself from the horrors of the journey ahead. Elizabeth had warned him of the dangers of Silent Hill, and he knew better than to take any chances.

As the carriage rolled forward, the road ahead was straight and unrelenting, a never-ending stretch of terror that seemed to go on forever. But they pressed on, knowing that they had to face whatever lay ahead in order to reach their goal

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After an hour of treacherous travel, they finally arrived at their destination: Silent Hill.

"This is Silent Hill?" he exclaimed, still in awe of the sight before him.

Fenrir's jaw dropped at the sight of the grand city atop a colossal hill. He had expected a desolate town filled with creepy houses, but instead, he found himself staring at tall walls and imposing structures.

"This is the birthplace of witches, one of the most advanced races in the world. What did you expect?" Elizabeth giggled, clearly amused by his reaction.

Fenrir couldn't help but wonder about witches' intelligence and technological advancements to create a city like this.

"Are witches really that much smarter and advanced compared to humans?" he asked.

Elizabeth paused for a moment, thinking about the best way to explain the significance of the Witches in the supernatural world.

"They are are only second to wizards and sorcerers. Their technology is not something that normal humans can comprehend," she explained, her words laced with a hint of reverence for the powerful race.

"Do you know why vampires are not keen with Witches?" she asked, her eyes glinting in the dim light.

Fenrir shifted uncomfortably. He knew that Witches were not to be trifled with, and their reputation as cunning and manipulative creatures preceded them.

"Because they're really evil?" he ventured.

Elizabeth chuckled softly.

"My love, all of us are evil in our own ways. Vampires are in no way less evil than Witches." She paused.

"The reason why we rarely interact with them is because they are a truly terrifying enemy. They might not be as physically strong as an Original like me, but they more than make up for it with their intelligence and their cunning personalities. Whatever you do, never anger a witch in their territory" She added.

"I understand "Fenrir nodded in agreement, and his senses became more alert after hearing Elizabeth's warning.

As the they passed through the gates, they were greeted by an eerie sight. Puppets made of dead corpses stood guard, their lifeless eyes scanning the carriage as it passed through.

These creatures were little more than empty husks, animated only by the necromantic magic of the witches who ruled this city. Despite their grotesque appearance, the corpses were surprisingly well-preserved, thanks to a special chemical used by the witches to prevent decay.

"What an evil place," he muttered, repeating the phrase again to emphasize the weight of his feelings.