The air was heavy with the aroma of damp earth and decaying leaves as Sarah Blackwood walked along the narrow path that wound through the woods behind her family home. She had taken this route countless times before, but today felt different. The usual sounds of chirping birds and rustling foliage were eerily absent, replaced by an oppressive silence that seemed to envelop her in a suffocating shroud. As she moved deeper into the forest, a perceptible weight settled in her chest, an unsettling reminder that something was amiss.
A little over a year had passed since Sarah had returned to her childhood home following the unexpected death of her mother. The forest that had once been a comforting backdrop to her youth had transformed into something unsettling, filled with shadows that danced ominously at the peripheries of her vision. It was here, in this uncanny silence, that the memories of her mother resurfaced, tethered tightly to the spirit of the woods. But there was something more at play. Something that gnawed at the back of Sarah’s mind, like a whisper just out of reach.
She had always shared a peculiar bond with her mother—a connection that transcended the ordinary. It was her mother who first introduced her to the concept of the Mind’s Eye, a notion rooted in their family’s long-held belief in the supernatural. Through meditation and focus, they could open themselves to visions and insights beyond the mundane world. But in the wake of her mother’s passing, Sarah struggled to tap into that part of herself. She hadn’t even attempted any of the exercises they once practised together, feeling lost without her guiding presence.
That evening, her dreams were invaded by a haunting figure, cloaked in shadow, with eyes that gleamed like shards of ice. The face remained obscured, but Sarah could feel an inexplicable connection, as if this spectre was beckoning her to reclaim what had been lost. The next morning, she awoke with an overwhelming sense of urgency, a burning desire to reconnect with the Mind’s Eye. Perhaps, she thought, if she could see beyond the veil, it might guide her towards understanding her mother’s death—or whatever dark presence lingered in the woods.
Deciding to meditate in the woods, Sarah returned to the very path where she had felt that oppressive silence. Guided by the rhythmic sounds of her breaths, she sat cross-legged on the cool, uneven ground, her fingers tracing the contours of an amulet her mother had given her. It was a simple thing, a piece of polished obsidian meant to protect the wearer from malevolent spirits. As she closed her eyes, she focused on the amulet, feeling its weight in the palm of her hand, and allowed the world around her to fade.
At first, her mind drifted to familiar thoughts—the comforting laughter of her mother, the warmth of her embrace—but just as quickly, darkness seeped in. With each inhalation, she felt herself slipping further, descending into a nebulous realm where shadows whispered and danced. Suddenly, a vivid image flashed before her closed eyes: the figure she’d seen in her dreams. It drew closer, and she could finally make out the glint of its eye, the gaping maw of its mouth, and the dull glow of a crescent moon behind it. Panic surged within her, but another voice—a soft, familiar voice—called her to remain still.
“Sarah…” it whispered, and she realised it was her mother.
“Mother?” she breathed, uncertainty threading her words.
“Focus, my dear. The veil is thin here. You must open your Mind’s Eye.”
As her mother’s presence enveloped her, Sarah felt a wave of warmth wash over her. She concentrated harder, forcing the fear from her mind. The dark figure transformed further, revealing a landscape behind it—a clearing she recognised. It was a small garden her mother had tended to with love.
With a start, Sarah jolted awake. The woods were unchanged, but the knowledge that emerged seemed to pulse at the edge of her consciousness. The urgency escalated in her chest, driving her back to the house. She needed to explore the garden.
Once in her mother’s beloved patch of flora, her fingers brushed against the petals of overgrown roses and wild daisies. It was a riot of colours that seemed to pulse with life. But amidst the beauty, an unnatural chill shivered through her. Kneeling, she traced a line in the soil—a dark crevice that hadn’t been there before. Her heart raced; with it came the creeping sensation of being watched. It was just a trick of the mind, she reasoned. She shook her head, wrestling with the doubt.
But when she hit a rock buried in the earth, it was as though a resonance echoed through her. The image of the shadowy figure flared back to life, twisting her instincts like ivy around a tree. Frantic, she dug harder, uncovering roots and debris until her fingers brushed something cold and metallic—an old locket. She pulled it free, wiping the dirt away to reveal an intricate design—a symbol she didn’t recognise.
As she opened it, the world seemed to shift. Visions poured into her mind like rapid-fire memories—flashes of her mother in the garden, then changing to a gathering of cloaked figures, strangers with hollowed eyes performing rituals. Overlapping scenes of joy twisted with terror as another image emerged: a scream—her mother’s scream.
“This must end…” The voice echoed—her mother’s voice—yet it sounded distant, almost pleading.
A wave of sorrow crashed over Sarah as the visions faded into darkness. Heart pounding, she clutched the locket, now fully aware of its heavy burden. The locket was a link, a reminder of her mother’s past, her present, and the secrets hidden between. There were forces at play that hadn’t yet revealed themselves.
In the following days, Sarah attempted to piece together the scattered fragments of her discovery. Each evocation of the Mind’s Eye left her more drained than before, as if pulling energy from some unseen well. She spent countless hours unearthing her mother’s old belongings, searching for anything that might help her decipher the essence of the locket and its connection to her family’s past.
One night, as a silver-washed moon hung low in the sky, Sarah decided to once again brave the woods. The lure of the locket was unbearable, and she felt compelled to return to the garden. Beneath its branches, she rummaged through memories, her thoughts swirling with the weight of her inheritance. This time, the air was charged, crackling with unseen forces. She breathed in deeply, focusing her energy on summoning the visions.
His laughter echoed in the stillness, a sound that resonated like thunder. The dark figure was there again, this time closer, standing against a backdrop of the weeping trees. “You should not have disturbed the earth, Sarah Blackwood,” it growled, a deep rumbling like gravel beneath stones.
“Who are you?” she replied, defiance coursing through her veins, albeit tinged with fear.
“Merely a guardian,” it hissed, “of what is buried here.”
Sarah’s gaze roamed, searching for clues within the darkness. “What do you want? What happened to my mother?”
A gale swept through the clearing, causing the leaves to rustle violently. The figure stepped forward, revealing a face half-concealed by its hood. “Your mother uncovered a truth she should not have. It is a burden she passed to you.”
Without thinking, Sarah raised the locket as if it were a weapon. “Then help me understand.”
In that moment, clarity struck as if a light broke behind a curtain of darkness. The figure’s eyes glistened, revealing a depth that caught Sarah off-guard. “What was hidden, what was sworn—find the others, Sarah. Seek the truth, for only through unity will your family find peace.”
With that, the presence faded into the shadows, leaving Sarah reeling. Alone, the weight of her ancestors bore down upon her, urging her to connect the fragments of her family’s story. She needed to uncover the truth about that gathering—the cloaked figures, the rituals, and the heavy burden that now rested squarely on her shoulders.
Determined, Sarah returned to the house with the locket clutched tightly in her palm. She would not allow fear to anchor her; she had begun to awaken the Mind’s Eye that her mother had nurtured in her, and she would fight for whatever truth lay hidden in the depths of their past. As dawn broke over the horizon, she knew her journey had just begun. The supernatural thread of her lineage awaited its unraveling, and Sarah Blackwood would face it head-on, empowered by the memory of those who came before her.
