Chapter 11: His Survival Game

The message on the wall twisted.

REMEMBER.

The crimson letters seemed to burn Raziel’s retina.

The metallic smell flooded the Restricted Section and churned his stomach, it was fresh blood.

Seraphina’s blood?

“Where are you?” he whispered, his voice cracking.

He spun on his heels looking for something, anything, but only found the oppressive silence of St. Celeste and that viscous puddle expanding on the floor.

[MENTAL STATE UNSTABLE] [WARNING: Critical Cortisol Levels]

’Calm down. Calm down, dammit!’

He forced himself to breathe.

If Seraphina wasn’t here, either they took her to extract the Echo, or she fled while bleeding out.

So Raziel ran towards the exit, wiping his sweaty hands on his tunic.

He had to raise the alarm.

He had to tell Marius.

But he stopped dead with his hand on the doorknob.

’Marius? What if he gave the order?’

If he went with stained hands and no proof, he would be the perfect culprit.

“No one is going to believe me,” he muttered, backing into the shadows.

“I am the crazy novice just the one who listens to hell music.”

He had to hide and survive the night before he could do anything.

Thirty minutes later, Raziel was in the Main Chapel.

He wasn’t praying, but was on his knees, scrubbing the stone floor with an old rag.

Scrub. Scrub. Scrub.

The stone was clean, but Raziel saw phantom red stains everywhere.

The smell of iron from the library had stuck to his nose, a sensory glitch his brain couldn’t turn off.

“Come out… it has to come out…” he murmured.

“Raziel?”

The sound was like a gunshot.

Raziel tensed up, his hand instinctively going for a knife he didn’t have.

Lara was at the entrance, holding a candelabra.

“You still here?” she asked. “Dinner ended a while ago.”

Raziel blinked, forcing his “mask” to assemble again.

It was painful.

“Lara,” he coughed to clear his throat. “Yeah. Just… extra penance. Marius said I needed ’guidance’.”

Lara lowered her gaze to the immaculate floor Raziel had been obsessively polishing and then looked at his trembling hands.

“You’re pale like a dead man,” she said, getting closer.

The smell of cheap soap she gave off was a brutal contrast to the stench of blood only Raziel could smell.

“And you smell like… iron?”

Raziel’s heart skipped a beat. ’Shit. Is it obvious?’

“My nose bled,” he lied fast, touching his lip. “Exam stress. You know.”

Lara narrowed her eyes. She didn’t seem convinced, but the atmosphere was too heavy to argue.

“Be careful, Raziel,” she whispered, lowering her voice. “St. Celeste isn’t a place to keep secrets.”

’If you only knew, Lara. We are standing on a mountain of corpses.’

“I will,” he said. “Go to sleep, don’t worry, I’ll go to my room soon.”

She hesitated, but finally nodded and turned around.

The sound of her footsteps walking away was the only relief Raziel had felt in hours. He let himself fall against a column, exhaling.

[MISSION TIME REMAINING: 05:00:00]

“Five more hours.”

Then, he heard voices.

They didn’t come from the hallway, but from the sacristy.

They were whispers, snake hisses in his ear.

Raziel stuck to the shadows, moving with the fluidity of an assassin.

He barely peeked out. Two figures and a lonely candle.

He recognized the first one immediately: Brother Reth, the History instructor.

The other wore a deep hooded robe that seemed to absorb the light.

“The Inquisitors are sniffing around,” Reth was saying, trembling.

“Marius is nervous about the boy. Says his song was… unnatural.”

“Let Marius pray his Hail Marys and shut up,” the Hooded One replied. His voice sounded wet, raspy.

“The girl is no longer a problem. Her Echo has been… harvested.”

Raziel bit his lip until he tasted copper. ’Is Seraphina dead?’

“And the boy?” Reth insisted. “He was in the library. He could have seen something or worse… what if he remembers?”

The Hooded One turned slightly and the light shined on a silver ring on his finger: The Order of Silence.

“He’s a novice, Reth. A traumatized kid,” he scoffed.

“Even if he saw the truth, who would believe him? But if he becomes a nuisance, we’ll use him. The Pact needs young blood to feed the Shadows.”

Raziel felt a chill. They weren’t talking about expelling him.

They were talking about sacrificing him.

He took a step back, his mind working a mile a minute. He needed to get out of there.

Creeeak!

The old wood of a pew creaked under his boot. The sound was deafening.

The two figures froze.

“Who goes there?” barked Reth.

Raziel stuck to the column, holding his breath until his lungs burned.

’Shit. Shit. Game Over.’

The rustle of fabric and approaching steps were heard.

“It’s just a rat,” said the Hooded One, stopping Reth. “This church is full of vermin looking for crumbs.”

There was a tense silence, an eternal pause where Raziel felt death breathing down his neck.

“Let’s go,” the dark figure finally ordered. “We have work in the basement and Reth… watch the boy. If he shows any sign of Awakening just rip his head off.”

The steps moved away toward a hidden door.

Raziel waited a whole minute before dropping to the floor, trembling.

Cold sweat soaked his back.

It wasn’t just corruption inside the institution, it seemed more like a cult and he was next.

He looked at the altar, at the giant cross hanging over him, mocking.

“Survive the night,” he whispered, and a twisted smile appeared on his face. “Piece of cake.”

[MISSION UPDATED] [NEW OBJECTIVE: Locate the entrance to the Basement without being detected]

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