Chapter Ninety Six

The night was a canvas of inky black, punctuated only by the occasional flicker of lightning in the distance. The rain had just ceased, leaving behind a damp chill that clung to the air like a shroud. The world seemed to hold its breath, waiting for the storm to return, or perhaps for something more sinister. A figure draped in black robes, the hood pulled low, emerged from the shadows with their movements as silent as the night itself. Each step was measured, each rustle of the robe a calculated whisper against the damp earth.

The figure paused before a dilapidated barn, its wooden doors creaking on their rusty hinges, a testament to years of neglect. The figure cast a wary glance around, eyes searching for any flicker of movement in the darkness, any sign of a shadow that didn"t belong. Satisfied that they were alone, the figure pushed open the door, the hinges groaning in protest. The barn interior was a cave of darkness, the only light coming from a single, flickering oil lamp hu