The Diary Keeper ["The Dark Legacies" Series]

Chapter 31: Below the ground

"Lia, look at the bridge."

It was completely destroyed. The once sturdy structure now lay in disarray, as if torn apart by some unseen force. It was a sobering sight, signaling that our retreat was cut off, leaving us stranded on this side of the treacherous divide.

"There's no way back." I admitted

We were looking at the remnants of what had been a bridge just recently. The realization that our escape route had been irrevocably severed was disheartening, but we had no choice but to forge ahead and find an alternative solution.

"We have to figure out how to get away from here," Kaira sighed, "But now let's enter the cave."

***
The entrance to the cave beckoned to us, its dark mouth opening like a gateway into the unknown. We were in a dire situation, isolated in this unfamiliar and potentially perilous place. But for now, our immediate priority was to explore the cave.

With each step into the darkness, we left the broken remnants of the bridge behind, both physically and metaphorically. Sensing the need for illumination, Kaira and I reached into our backpacks and retrieved our trusty flashlights.

Clicking the switches, beams of light pierced through the gloom, casting dancing shadows on the cave walls. The narrow beam of my flashlight quivered slightly in my trembling hand, serving as a small beacon of reassurance in this unknown domain. I could feel the weight of the darkness pressing in around us, but the comforting glow of the flashlight lent us a newfound sense of security.

The illuminated path before us revealed the rugged terrain of the cave, stalactites hanging from the ceiling like jagged teeth, and stalagmites rising from the ground like ancient sentinels. The light played tricks on our eyes, casting eerie shapes and distorted shadows on the uneven walls.

The sound of our footsteps echoed through the cavern, reverberating off the walls, adding to the sense of otherworldly solitude. Every crack and drip seemed magnified in the stillness, as if the cave itself held its breath in anticipation of our presence.

Finally, after some minutes of searching and braving the treacherous path of the cave, we stumbled upon our long-awaited prize. There, tucked away amidst the rocky crevices and cast in a faint glow of our flashlights, we found it — Hazel Fowler's diary.

It was a moment of triumph, the culmination of our relentless pursuit. The diary seemed to possess an aura of its own, as if it held the very essence of Hazel's experiences and secrets within its weathered pages.

With trembling hands, we carefully opened the diary, reverently flipping through its aged parchment. The faded ink seemed to come alive, as if whispering ancient tales and hidden knowledge. The worn leather cover bore the name "Hazel Fowler" embossed in elegant script, giving it an air of mystery and importance.

However, as we turned to the first page, an unexpected sight greeted us. The letters, once neatly written, now appeared distorted and peculiar, as if they were arranged in an unknown language or coded message.

We tried various approaches, searching for patterns or hidden clues within the jumbled letters. We attempted to decipher the cryptic passages by rearranging the words or examining the pages under different lighting conditions, but our efforts yielded no breakthroughs.

"I will show it Mrs. Coleman," Kaira said, "Fortunately, now we have an ally in this case."

"First of all, we have to return somehow..." I laughed nervously.

Kaira turned back and, suddenly, her face expressed shock.

"Lia... Look," she managed to utter, her voice trembling with a mix of awe and confusion. "The bridge... it's repaired."

I also turned back. The bridge, once shattered and broken, now stood whole and unyielding, as if mocking the laws of nature. It was an inexplicable sight that left us grappling for rational explanations.

As I approached the bridge, a tingling sensation swept over me, as if the very air crackled with an otherworldly energy. I hesitated for a moment, my mind racing with questions. Was this an illusion? A trick of my own perception? Or had the fabric of reality truly shifted in this enchanted place?

Reaching the other side, I turned back to gaze at the bridge, searching for any clues that might explain its transformation. But it stood there, silent and enigmatic, revealing no answers to the questions that swirled within me.

"This is beyond our comprehension," I murmured, my voice barely audible.

It was impossible. It was just impossible...

***
The police suggested it wasn't an arson as they couldn't find any clues of it and the house hadn't suffered at all. They told us it was just an accident and just laughed at me when I said I had seen someone in a black clothes escaping from there.

Their investigation left me frustrated and disheartened. According to them, it was as if the flames had selectively spared the structure, leaving it seemingly unscathed.

I tried to convince them otherwise, sharing my vivid recollection of seeing a figure dressed in black fleeing the scene. But my account was met with skeptical looks and dismissive laughter. They attributed it to the chaos and confusion of the moment, chalking it up to a trick of the mind. It was as if my words were being swept away by a gust of wind, disregarded and deemed insignificant.

Feeling frustrated and unheard, I couldn't help but wonder if there was a hidden agenda behind their reluctance to investigate further. Was it their desire to quickly close the case, avoiding any complexities that might arise from digging deeper?

The laughter of the authorities echoed in my mind. I knew what I had seen, and I couldn't simply dismiss it as a flight of fancy. There was an unseen force at work, manipulating the truth and obscuring the reality of what had transpired.

***
By the way, my parents and grandparents decided that I needed a psychologist, especially after appearing drunk in Di Flores Manor when I was supposed to be in my dorm room. It would be interesting to observe their reaction to me telling the real story, but I think they would send me to a psychiatrist in that case...

My family had become increasingly concerned about my behavior. To them, it was a clear indication that something was amiss, that perhaps I was spiraling out of control. They thought a professional could help me navigate through whatever issues I might be facing. It was their way of showing care and concern, but little did they know that the truth behind my escapades was far beyond the realm of conventional therapy.

All in all, my parents decided not to punish me that time but to help me solve my psychological problems instead. Nothing is as bad as I thought earlier.

I sat alone in my dorm room, lost in a whirlwind of thoughts and contemplations. The events of the past weeks had turned my world upside down, challenging everything I thought I knew about myself and the existence of the supernatural.

Suddenly, a notification on my smartphone disrupted my reverie - it was a message from Grace:

You've done everything well. I'm waiting for both of you in my office the next week.