Sacrifice || ENHYPEN FF

𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 28

~Dont forget to VOTE and COMMENT~

-Start of Chapter 27-

I didn't realise when tears started to flow. I wipe them away with trembling hands.

She loved me so much... Yet... She had to die at the hands of her beloved daughter...

I take a deep breath before closing the diary. I look at the compartment underneath to find if anything else is there. Nothing... I was hoping for some clues related to ENHYPEN...

Aishh... Nothing...

I start to getting up when something catches my eye. Something- attached to the leg of the bed by an almost invisible piece of thread.

I quickly untie it.

My breath catches in my throat as I examine the contents – names of unique flowers and spells, meticulously written in my mother's hand.

I think these are names of unique flowers... And spells... This could be useful!

Quickly rolling the paper back up, I held it tightly in my grasp

I use the free hand and presses underneath the bed. I feel my palm touch something cold. I quickly pull it out - a big, thick book.

Desperately, I open the book, its pages filled with my mother's handwritten notes and observations. Each word seems to pulsate with a silent energy, urging me to dig deeper into the secrets they hold.

One entry catches my eye – a description of a forgotten spell, whispered in the shadows of time. My mother speaks of a ritual imbued with ancient magic, capable of bending reality to one's will. Illusion...

Another passage references a hidden chamber, concealed within the depths of the palace. My mother's words hint at a place of power, guarded by ancient wards and protected by the spirits of the past. Hidden maps...

As I delve deeper into the notes, I uncover references to a lost lineage, shrouded in myth and legend. My mother's research traces our ancestry back through the annals of time, revealing connections to a forgotten era of magic and mystery.

I close the book shut.

As I rise from the floor, clutching the worn diary and the mysterious notes, a sense of urgency drives me forward. I should go. I don't want to get caught.

But as I take that first step towards the door, something compels me to pause, to steal one last glance over my shoulder at the room that holds my mother's legacy.

My eyes drift to the bedside table, where a solitary photo sits untouched by time. With a gasp, I approach it, my heart pounding in my chest. Carefully setting down the diaries and notes, I lift the photo, its edges worn smooth by countless caresses. In the image, I see myself as a child, surrounded by the love and warmth of my mother and five brothers...

Tears blur my vision as I trace the contours of their faces, each one a cherished memory etched into the fabric of my soul. Oh, how innocent we all were back then, cocooned in a world of love and laughter, unaware of the darkness that lurked beyond the edges of our sanctuary.

Laying down on my mother's bed, I cradle the photo to my chest, the weight of nostalgia pressing down upon me. Silent tears stream down my cheeks as I stare at the image, my heart aching with longing for those simpler times.

In that moment, surrounded by the echoes of the past, I allow myself to indulge in the bittersweet embrace of memory. I close my eyes and imagine myself back in that room, surrounded by the warmth of my family's love. For just a fleeting moment, I am transported back to a time when the world was filled with infinite possibilities and the future stretched out before me like an open road.