Just as Omen entered the throne like hall, the doors behind him instantly closed, making the boy flinch as he realised any form of light that had been protecting him until now had vanished.
A faint fluttering sound came from above, freezing the boy in place.
Slowly, he tilted his head up and in the newfound darkness became visible, countless red eyes glowing in the dark.
Hundreds of bats were hanging from the ceiling, silent and still, Omen realised.
"…oh, hell no," he whispered as one of them moved, it's wings twitching.
Another followed.
Then another.
Before the boy could even take a step back…
*FWOOSH!*
A wall of black wings exploded from above. The sound of screeching filled the air as the bats swarmed, rushing past him like a living storm.
To make it worse, the tall boy still hadn't gotten used the the absence of light.
Omen screamed in horror, sweat covering his head as the creatures scratched against his face and neck.
The air turned wild, cold, and thick with dust and feathers.
He stumbled backward, falling hard onto the ground, and waited until the noise faded.
When the last of screech disappeared into the distance, silence returned.
Omen sat still for a few seconds, gasping for air. His whole body was shaking. "Okay," he muttered under his breath, his voice trembling, "that was…that was just bats hanging in the air. Just…normal creatures, right?"
The 18 year old boy forced himself to stand again, brushing the dirt off his clothes. That's when he noticed something.
The bats had knocked loose a thick layer of dust from the far end of the hall.
And behind it…was a throne?
Omen blinked, trying to see clearly.
The faint light from outside the space between the hinges of the door crept in, sliding over the surface of a wide staircase that led up to an elevated platform.
At the top, the throne stood tall and cracked but still regal, carved from black stone, its back shaped like two curved wings.
But it wasn't empty.
A unknown figure sat atop it, making Omen freeze in place.
The shape was faint at first, almost blending into the shadows, then the moonlight touched her face.
The lady was thin, too thin. Her skin was pale, almost colorless, the colour running over her sharp bones.
Her long hair fell down in messy strands, black and tangled. Her hands, resting on the throne's armrests, looked almost skeletal.
She wasn't moving or even breathing.
For a moment, Omen thought she might be dead. But something deep inside him said otherwise.
The air around her felt heavy to him, almost wrong. Like she was the source of the cold that filled the entire place.
A sudden pressure appeared on his body as his instincts screamed at him to run, but his legs refused to move.
The silence was too much for him to handle as he felt like his ears were bleeding.
Unknown to him but even the wind outside had stopped.
'What is happening to me, why can't I move?' The boy screamed internally as he stood at the same place, frozen like a statue.
He could hear his own heartbeat thundering in his ears.
Ba-dump.
Ba-dump.
Ba-dump.
Then, the unknown lady's fingers twitched.
Her head tilted slightly to the side, hair falling away from her face. And even though she hadn't opened her eyes yet, the boy felt it, like something ancient and abnormally strong was staring right through him.
When he finally felt that he could move all of a sudden, as if th pressure had weakened, Omen took one step back, then another, barely breathing.
The skeleton figure siting atop let out an eerie, bone chilling screech as her red eyes stared directly at Omen's.
A sound so sharp and shrill rang in the hall that it didn't just fill the air, it pierced it.
The boy held onto his ears and fell backwards, cursing Agnus a hundred times inside his mouth, wondering if he should just call out the skull as usual and go back.
But it was times like these that the cute figure of his sister appeared inside his mind along with th resolve that he wouldn't show his face to her until he atleast found some way to gaining strength.
As for the women on the throne, her sound wasn't human. It was too high and broken, full of something he couldn't name.
Her thin frame convulsed all of a sudden as dark strands of her hair flew like it had been caught in a storm.
Then, her head jerked up, and two glowing red eyes snapped open.
Those eyes, bloody, bright, and soulless looked directly onto his.
He couldn't breathe, couldn't think.
His heart pounded so hard that it hurt.
The air around the throne trembled, vibrating like the ground before an earthquake.
Then, just as suddenly as it began, her body started to crack. Tiny white fractures spread across her skin and a gust of cold wind rushed through the hall, blowing her hair upward.
Omen's mouth opened, but no sound came out as the woman's body glowed faintly for a second, then,
Shhhh…
She shattered into dust.
The ash-like particles floated down gently, disappearing before they could even touch the ground. The throne was empty once again.
"…what…the hell was that," the boy whispered, tying his white hair back again.
He looked around the hall, hoping it was over, but deep inside, something told him it wasn't.
Just then, a faint voice echoed in his surroundingss.
It was a low, muffled sound.
The voice was soft, barely there, like someone was calling out for help.
"…elp…"
Omen stiffened, his first thought was to run. Every bit of common sense told him to get the hell out of this place, to open the gates of this hall and run away. But that same sound came again, clearer this time.
"H-help…"
The boy's gut twisted, his moral compass slipping out.
After all, it wasn't a ghostly sound this time but weak, broken, and desperate sound, exactly the one like he used to make all those years back when he had lost everything to the heavens.
Omen looked towards the place from where. The sound was coming, gulping.
"…I'm going to regret this."
***