The rain poured relentlessly, as if the heavens themselves wept for what had transpired. A lone figure darted through the narrow alleyways of the forgotten town of Havenbrook, their breath labored and heart pounding in their chest. Sarah had been running for what felt like an eternity, escaping not just the relentless storm but a nightmarish truth that clung to her like a shroud of darkness.

It all began with a cryptic message from her estranged uncle, Professor Richard Wainwright, a renowned archaeologist. The letter had arrived out of the blue, filled with incoherent ramblings and a sense of impending doom. Sarah couldn’t ignore the urgency in his tone. The plea for her to visit his remote research facility in Havenbrook was desperate, and it bore the mark of a man teetering on the brink of madness.

The journey had been long and treacherous. Havenbrook was nestled deep within the heart of a thick, uncharted forest, a place where modernity had yet to encroach. When Sarah arrived, she found the town enveloped in an eerie silence. The residents were distant, their eyes filled with fear, and their lips sealed with an unspoken terror. It was as if the entire town was imprisoned by an invisible force.

Sarah finally reached her uncle’s facility, a sprawling compound that seemed out of place in this forsaken wilderness. The moment she stepped inside, the air grew heavy with dread. Her uncle’s office was a chaotic mess of notes, maps, and artifacts from his recent excavations. Sarah felt a shiver run down her spine as she picked up a note scrawled in her uncle’s handwriting.

“Sarah, they are here. Beware the Abyss. Escape while you still can.”

The cryptic warning only deepened her unease. What was this “Abyss” her uncle spoke of, and who were “they”? The answer, she feared, lay hidden in the depths of the forest that surrounded her.

As the night wore on, Sarah ventured deeper into the forest, her flashlight casting eerie shadows on the gnarled trees. The distant howls of wolves sent a chill down her spine. It was then that she stumbled upon it—a massive, gaping chasm in the earth, hidden beneath a canopy of twisted branches.

The Abyss.

It was an abyss in every sense of the word—an immeasurable pit that seemed to extend into infinity. Sarah’s heart raced as she peered into its depths, her mind unable to comprehend the sheer enormity of it. The abyss radiated an otherworldly energy, and it beckoned her, as if it held the answers to the mysteries that had consumed her uncle.

Suddenly, a rustling in the underbrush snapped her back to reality. She turned, her flashlight trembling in her hand, and there they were—figures shrouded in darkness, moving silently toward her. Their eyes glowed with an unnatural luminescence, and they moved with a fluid grace that was far from human.

Terrified, Sarah fled, knowing that whatever they were, they were not of this world. She raced through the forest, her breath ragged, the rain soaking her to the bone. Her only thought was to escape, to get as far away from the Abyss and those haunting figures as possible.

Hours turned into days as Sarah continued to run, her mind a whirlwind of fear and confusion. She stumbled upon a cabin deep in the woods, a small sanctuary in the heart of this nightmare. Inside, she found journals and notes that spoke of her uncle’s obsession with the Abyss, his belief that it held the key to unlocking ancient, unspeakable powers.

Sarah realized that her uncle had delved too deep, that he had opened a portal to a realm beyond human comprehension. The figures she had encountered were its denizens, and they were now free to roam the world. The town of Havenbrook had become their playground, and anyone who crossed their path was doomed.

As Sarah read her uncle’s notes, she understood that the only way to stop the entities from spreading their malevolence was to seal the Abyss. Armed with knowledge and a newfound determination, she ventured back into the forest, guided by her uncle’s research.

Days turned into weeks as Sarah fought her way back to the chasm. The entities were relentless in their pursuit, their whispers of darkness taunting her with every step. But Sarah was resolute; she had to close the Abyss and undo the horrors her uncle had unleashed.

Standing at the edge of the pit, she followed the ancient incantations outlined in her uncle’s notes. The words resonated with power, and as she chanted, the ground shook beneath her feet. The abyss quivered, and a tempestuous wind howled, tearing through the forest. The entities screamed in agony, their forms dissolving into nothingness.

Sarah’s vision blurred as she continued the incantation, pouring every ounce of her will into it. At last, a blinding flash of light erupted from the Abyss, and a deafening roar filled the air. The chasm began to close, its inky depths sealing shut like a monstrous maw snapping shut.

Exhausted and battered, Sarah stumbled back, her heart heavy with the weight of what she had done. The forest grew calm, and the rain ceased. The malevolent entities were gone, imprisoned once more in the Abyss.

Havenbrook began to awaken from its nightmare, the townspeople freed from the grip of terror. Sarah, however, knew that she could never return to a normal life. The horrors she had witnessed would forever haunt her dreams, a reminder of the thin veil that separated the world from the abyss.

As she walked away from the now tranquil town, Sarah understood the true nature of her escape. It wasn’t just from the entities that lurked in the shadows; it was from the darkness that resided within us all, waiting for the moment when we, too, might unleash it upon the world.

Thanks to everyone who participated this week and shared your links! Please visit their blogs, give them a follow, and take a look at how they interpreted the prompt.

1. Catherine

Be sure to come back on Wednesday for the next Sunday Scribblings prompt! Encourage other bloggers to challenge themselves with the prompt! Remember that there are no rules for what you write, other than responding to the prompt! You can write fiction, non-fiction, poetry, prose, biography, instruction… it’s all up to you!

Feature Photo by Marcus Murphy