Blood Of The Covenant / Season 1, Episode 11
Blood's Silent Witness
The air in the chamber bites at my knuckles, sharp and damp, like the inside of a tomb left open to winter. I’m crouched near the blood-filled pool, my fingers hovering just above the surface, not touching, not daring. The liquid doesn’t ripple. It’s too thick, too still, like it’s watching me back. My breath fogs in front of me, quick and shallow, and I can hear Agatha behind me, her boots scuffing against the rough stone as she shifts her weight. She’s muttering under her breath, a string of Latin I can’t quite catch, her voice tight as a wire about to snap. The hum from the slab—low, guttural, like a heartbeat carved into rock—pulses through the soles of my feet. It hasn’t stopped since we stepped through the archway, and now it’s louder, crawling up my spine. “Tomás.” Her voice cuts through, sharp enough to make me flinch. “Don’t. Whatever you’re thinking—don’t.” I don’t look at her. Can’t. My eyes are locked on the pool, on the way the torchlight we rigged up catches the edges, turning the red to a sickening copper. “I’m not doing anything, hermana. Just looking.” “You’re too close.” She steps nearer, her shadow falling over me, long and thin against the jagged wall. I can smell the sweat on her, the fear, mixed...