Chapter 11: The Professor's Secret

1458 Words
The distant sound of an engine broke the silence, faint but growing louder. Annie froze, her eyes widening as she turned to Ethan. “They’re coming,” she whispered. Ethan grabbed her arm, pulling her toward the forest. “Off the road. Now!” They scrambled into the underbrush, crouching low as the sound of the engine drew closer. A black SUV came into view, its headlights cutting through the darkness. It slowed as it neared their position, the engine idling as the driver scanned the road. Ethan held his breath, his grip on Annie’s arm tightening. The SUV lingered for what felt like an eternity before finally moving on, its taillights disappearing into the distance. Annie exhaled shakily, her voice trembling. “How are they still on us? It’s like they know every move we’re going to make.” Ethan’s mind raced, piecing together the fragments of their situation. “They must’ve planted a tracker on us. Maybe on the car.” Annie’s eyes widened in alarm. “What do we do?” Ethan looked back toward the road, his expression hardening. “We keep moving. And we figure out how to turn this around.” They emerged from the underbrush cautiously, the shard tucked safely away in Annie’s coat. As they set off again, Ethan couldn’t shake the feeling that the forest was watching them, its silent shadows hiding more secrets than they could comprehend. But one thing was clear: whatever they’d stumbled into, it was far bigger—and far more dangerous—than they’d ever imagined. --- The sun had barely begun to rise when Ethan and Annie finally reached the outskirts of the next town. The first rays of light filtered through the thin veil of snowflakes, casting a faint golden glow over the deserted streets. Exhaustion weighed heavily on them both, but neither dared to stop. Their destination was close—Ethan’s old professor lived in a modest house just a few blocks away. “Are you sure he can help?” Annie asked, her voice hoarse from the cold and lack of sleep. “If anyone can figure out what this thing is, it’s Professor Calloway,” Ethan replied, his pace quickening despite his fatigue. “He’s spent his entire career studying artifacts like this. If he doesn’t know, we’re out of options.” Annie clutched the shard tighter beneath her coat, its unnatural warmth seeping into her skin. “Let’s hope he’s as trustworthy as you think.” --- A Familiar Face They reached Calloway’s house as the town began to stir. The modest, ivy-covered building was tucked away on a quiet street, its windows glowing faintly with light. Ethan knocked on the door, glancing over his shoulder to make sure they hadn’t been followed. The door creaked open, revealing a man in his late sixties with sharp eyes and a face weathered by years of study and travel. He blinked in surprise at the sight of Ethan. “Ethan Crawford,” Calloway said, his voice a mix of astonishment and amusement. “It’s been years. What brings you here at this hour?” “It’s a long story,” Ethan replied, his tone urgent. “Can we come in?” Calloway’s eyes flicked to Annie, then back to Ethan. He hesitated for a moment before stepping aside. “Of course. Come in, but wipe your feet. I don’t need snow all over my rug.” --- The Shard Unveiled The interior of Calloway’s home was as Ethan remembered—bookshelves lining every wall, each one crammed with tomes on history, mythology, and archaeology. A small fireplace crackled in the corner, filling the room with a comforting warmth that was in stark contrast to the tension hanging in the air. Calloway gestured for them to sit, his curious gaze fixed on Ethan. “Now, what’s so urgent that you show up unannounced after all these years?” Ethan didn’t waste time. “We found something—something dangerous. And people are trying to kill us for it.” Calloway’s expression shifted, his curiosity deepening. “What sort of ‘something’ are we talking about?” Annie reached into her coat, hesitating before pulling out the shard. As soon as it was exposed, the room seemed to dim, the shard’s glow casting eerie shadows across the walls. Calloway’s eyes widened, his breath catching in his throat. “Where... where did you find this?” “In the woods near the old resort,” Ethan said. “It was buried, but it—well, it called to us. It sounds crazy, but—” “It’s not crazy,” Calloway interrupted, his voice trembling with a mix of fear and awe. “This is... incredible. I’ve seen sketches, read accounts, but I never thought—” “You know what it is?” Annie asked, her voice sharp. Calloway nodded slowly, his gaze never leaving the shard. “It’s an artifact from the Frosted Epoch—a period so ancient it’s practically myth. These artifacts were said to hold immense power, capable of shaping reality itself. But they come with a terrible cost.” --- Revelations and Risks Ethan exchanged a wary glance with Annie. “What kind of cost are we talking about?” Calloway leaned forward, his voice low. “The Frosted Epoch was marked by destruction. Civilizations that wielded these artifacts fell into ruin, consumed by the very power they sought to control. The shards are said to corrupt those who use them, twisting their minds until they’re unrecognizable.” Annie’s grip on the shard tightened, her face pale. “So, this thing... it’s dangerous just to hold?” “Not necessarily,” Calloway said, though his tone offered little reassurance. “The danger lies in trying to use its power. But even proximity can have... side effects. Visions, compulsions, a sense that the artifact is alive. Have you experienced anything like that?” Annie nodded, her voice barely above a whisper. “It feels like it’s... watching me. Like it knows what I’m thinking.” Calloway’s expression darkened. “You need to be very careful. If the wrong people get their hands on this, the consequences could be catastrophic.” --- A Plan in Motion “What do we do?” Ethan asked, his frustration evident. “We can’t just keep running forever.” Calloway stood, pacing the room as he thought. “There’s a secure facility—a vault—where artifacts like this are studied and kept safe. It’s run by an organization I trust. I can arrange for the shard to be taken there.” Annie’s brow furrowed. “And then what? We just hand it over and hope for the best?” “It’s the only way to ensure it doesn’t fall into the wrong hands,” Calloway said firmly. “But it won’t be easy. If you’ve already been targeted, your pursuers won’t stop until they get what they’re after.” Ethan nodded grimly. “Then we need to move fast. Can you contact this organization?” Calloway picked up an old rotary phone, dialing a number from memory. “I’ll make the arrangements. But you’ll need to leave immediately. The longer you stay here, the more danger we’re all in.” --- The Storm Approaches As Calloway spoke into the phone, Annie leaned closer to Ethan, her voice hushed. “Do you trust him? What if this organization wants the shard for themselves?” Ethan hesitated. He didn’t want to doubt Calloway, but the stakes were too high to ignore the possibility. “We’ll stay cautious. If anything feels off, we’ll figure out another way.” Calloway hung up the phone, turning back to them with a sense of urgency. “They’re sending a team to meet you at a safe location a few miles outside of town. I’ll give you the coordinates.” Annie and Ethan nodded, their resolve hardening. But as they prepared to leave, a loud knock echoed through the house, shattering the fragile sense of safety. “Stay here,” Calloway said, his voice low as he moved toward the door. Ethan reached for his knife, his muscles tensing as he pulled Annie closer. The knock came again, louder this time, followed by the sound of a deep voice calling out. “Professor Calloway! Open the door, or we’ll come in ourselves.” Calloway froze, his face paling. “It’s them,” he whispered. The air in the room grew colder, the shard’s glow intensifying as if responding to the danger. Ethan locked eyes with Annie, his grip on the knife tightening. “Looks like we’re out of time,” he said grimly. --- End of Chapter 11
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