Third Person P.O.V.
The air inside Conrad's hideout cabin hung heavy with the scent of blood and burning herbs. The stone walls, once dull and gray, were now splattered with red, the floor streaked with a gruesome trail leading to the center of the room. There, on a makeshift bedding of torn blankets and furs, lay Veronica. Her breaths came out in broken sobs, her body convulsing with pain as Diane knelt beside her, chanting fervently.
The ritual circle surrounding Veronica glowed with a pale blue hue. Strange symbols flickered against the dusty wooden floor, swirling with faint tendrils of energy as Diane traced them again and again with trembling fingers. Her brow was furrowed in focus, her lips cracked and dry from the relentless chanting.
Veronica's screams echoed through the cabin.
