The forest changed again.
Not gradually.
Not naturally.
But in a single, impossible ripple—
as if the world shuddered
and rearranged itself to match a ritual's next beat.
Inara felt the shift first.
A wave of nausea rolled through her.
The trees around them shook once—
not from wind,
but as if reacting to something beneath their roots.
"Irvine… the ground moved."
His grip tightened on her hand immediately.
"I know. He's accelerating the ritual."
He glanced at the sky—
a sky without a sun,
just a heavy gray dome that seemed to pulse
like a grotesque, living lung.
The Groom's veil floated somewhere between the trees,
visible in flashes,
like moonlight caught on a blade.
Irvine dragged Inara closer to him.
"We keep moving. Don't stop. Don't listen to anything that sounds like me."
She swallowed. "But you're right here."
"For now."
The way he said *for now* fractured her breath.
---
### **THE FOREST BEGINS TO BEND**
They walked for only a minute before they both froze.
The path ahead…
…was shaped like a spine.
Roots curved like vertebrae.
Branches arched overhead like ribs.
The trees leaned inward,
forming the distorted outline of a massive skeletal corridor.
"What the hell…" Inara whispered.
Irvine didn't answer.
Because he could see something she couldn't.
The path overlapped with another vision—
the Groom's vision—
a torch-lit hallway lined with skulls,
two files of cult soldiers kneeling on each side.
And a bride walking down the center.
His heartbeat synced to the phantom drums again—
BOOM.
BOOM.
BOOM.
He forced himself to stop.
But his feet twitched forward involuntarily.
Inara caught it.
She stepped directly in front of him,
grabbing his face with both hands.
"Hey. Stay with me."
He closed his eyes,
leaning into her touch like a drowning man reaching air.
"I'm trying," he said through clenched teeth. "He's pushing harder."
"How bad?"
His jaw flexed.
"Every time the trees shift, his pulse replaces mine."
Inara pulled him into her arms—
not gently,
but fiercely,
her fingers digging into his jacket.
"You're not leaving me. Not now."
He inhaled shakily.
"Never."
But the forest answered with a hiss.
Leaves rustled—
not from wind,
but from something crawling through them.
Many somethings.
Irvine pulled her behind him instantly.
"Don't look up."
Which made her look up.
Shapes clung to the trees—
bodies twisted in ways bones never allowed.
Eyes hollow.
Jaws gaping.
Soldier-creatures from the cult era,
waiting.
Waiting for the Groom's next command.
One of them opened its mouth and—
**mimicked Irvine's voice**.
"Inara…"
She grabbed Irvine's shirt in sheer panic.
"It's not me," he said immediately. "Listen to THIS voice. This one right here."
The creature's head jerked
like a marionette with tangled strings.
"Inaaaaraaa… come baaaack…" it croaked.
She nearly gagged.
Irvine pressed a hand over her ears.
"Don't listen. Eyes on me."
She nodded, focusing on him—
the real him—
the one trembling but fighting.
Always fighting.
"Move," he said, pulling her forward. "Fast."
---
### **THE PATH TWISTS**
They followed the spine-path,
the trees bending inward more with each step.
Inara noticed it first.
"Irvine… this path wasn't pointing north."
"It wasn't."
"Now it is."
His pulse spiked.
"That means the altar is close."
"The altar we're trying to avoid?"
"The altar he's forcing us toward."
Behind them,
soldier-creatures began crawling down the trunks,
joint by joint,
slow but purposeful.
Not chasing.
Guiding.
Herding.
"Irvine…"
"They're driving us forward."
"I know."
He grabbed her wrist,
trying to keep his own breathing steady.
But Inara noticed something terrifying—
The closer they got to the altar's direction,
the more Irvine's posture changed.
He stood taller.
Straighter.
More rigid.
More…
bridegroom-like.
She grabbed his chin sharply.
"No."
His eyes focused on her—
clear, human, living—
and he softened.
Good.
He was still here.
But only barely.
---
### **THE WHISPER OF THE GROOM**
Fog rolled between their legs,
wrapping around Irvine's ankles like a white chain.
He stumbled forward suddenly.
"Irvine!"
"I'm fine—"
His voice lowered,
tone flattening,
cadence changing—
as if someone else moved his tongue.
"*Voca sponso… sanguine vinculo…*"
Inara's heart slammed.
"Irvine, that's not your voice."
He blinked hard,
like a man trying to wake from a nightmare.
"It's in my head—he's forcing words—just keep talking to me—talk, Inara, please—"
She cupped his face again,
pressing their foreheads together.
"Look at me. I'm your anchor."
He exhaled sharply,
holding on to her hands like lifelines.
"You always are."
The path rippled.
Literally.
Like fabric pulled taut,
the forest bent sideways,
straightening into a perfect line—
a corridor guiding them straight toward a hollow stone doorway.
The entrance to the altar tunnels.
"Irvine… what do we do?" Inara whispered.
He squeezed her hand.
"We survive."
---
### **THE WALLS START CLOSING**
The ground trembled in long, uneven pulses.
The trees leaned in.
The corridor narrowed behind them,
closing off the path they came from.
A loud crack echoed—
branches collapsing like metal gates locking shut.
Inara's breath hitched.
"We're trapped."
"No," Irvine said. "He thinks he's guiding us. That's different."
"That's not better!" she hissed.
"I know."
Fog climbed higher,
curling around Irvine's back,
threading up his spine.
He stiffened,
a cold breath escaping his lips.
"Inara… pull me."
She grabbed his jacket,
yanking him closer until they collided chest-to-chest.
"Stay. With. Me."
He swallowed hard.
"I am."
But shadows twisted behind them.
And a silhouette stepped into view.
Tall.
Straight.
Veil drifting.
The Groom.
Irvine instinctively moved in front of Inara,
shielding her.
But the Groom raised a single finger—
—and Irvine's knees nearly buckled.
"Inara…" he gasped. "He's… pulling. Hard."
She wrapped her arms around his waist from behind,
her cheek pressed between his shoulder blades.
"Don't look at him."
"I have to," he strained.
"No. You DON'T."
She held him tighter.
"You look at me."
He lowered his head,
breathing raggedly.
"…okay."
---
### **THE BEND OF THE WORLD**
A massive cracking sound split the forest.
The trees didn't sway.
They *bent*.
Every trunk leaned toward the altar,
as if bowing to a king.
Branches extended like skeletal arms,
reaching for them,
ushering them forward.
Inara trembled.
"Irvine… he's changing the whole forest."
"Yes."
"How is that even possible?"
Irvine swallowed.
"Because this isn't a forest."
She blinked.
"It was never a forest, Inara."
His eyes lifted,
haunted.
"This is the underside of the bunker's altar.
The roots… are the bones.
The branches… are the rafters.
We're not outside."
Her stomach dropped.
"We're in the altar already."
He nodded slowly.
"The ground collapsed earlier… and the village rearranged itself.
We're inside the ritual chamber… just disguised."
A long, cold silence.
Inara whispered,
"Then where's the real entrance?"
Irvine turned his head slowly toward the shifting corridor.
"…straight ahead."
A shadow passed between the skeletal pines—
and the Groom's veil brushed the air like a command.
The altar was summoning them.
---
### **THE CHASE BEGINS**
The groom's whisper slid across Irvine's spine again.
"Shadow groom…
do not resist…"
Irvine stiffened.
Inara felt it instantly.
She grabbed his face harshly.
"IRVINE. HEY."
He gasped—
and the Groom's pull snapped for a moment.
But the soldier-creatures began to descend from the trees.
One.
Two.
Four.
Seven.
Limbs snapping into shape,
jaws unhinging,
eyes empty.
Irvine shoved Inara behind him.
"Run."
She nodded once.
"Together."
He took her hand—
—and they sprinted.
Branches whipped,
leaves stung,
roots clawed at their feet.
The forest corridor twisted violently,
walls shifting like a maze reorganizing in real time.
Behind them:
Screeches.
Bones cracking.
Feet dragging.
Teeth clicking.
The Groom's slow footsteps.
Inara's lungs burned.
Irvine's grip tightened.
"Faster—!"
The corridor bent sharply,
and suddenly—
A stone stairway emerged before them,
descending underground.
The true altar entrance.
The Groom's voice slid down Irvine's spine again:
"Come home…"
Irvine nearly tripped.
Inara grabbed his jaw mid-run.
"STAY WITH ME!"
His voice trembled—
"I am. I swear I am."
They leapt down the stone stairs together—
just as the forest snapped shut behind them
like a jaw closing.
---
### **CLIFFHANGER**
Inside the stairwell,
torches ignited one by one,
illuminating carved walls dripping with ancient ink.
A bride's painted eyes followed them.
The drums pounded louder.
Irvine's breath shook.
His pupils dilated.
"Inara…" he whispered, terrified.
"What?"
He held her wrist with trembling fingers.
"I'm not just seeing what he sees anymore."
Her heart dropped.
"What do you mean?"
Irvine swallowed hard.
"I think he's starting to see
through me."