Blood Of The Covenant / Season 1, Episode 12
Beneath the Bleeding Stone
The air in the chamber clawed at Tomás’s throat, thick with the iron tang of blood and something older, something that smelled of earth turned wrong. His boots scraped against the uneven stone as he pressed a hand to the wall, feeling the faint tremor that hadn’t stopped since they’d passed through the archway. Ahead, the narrow passage seemed to swallow what little light their flickering lantern offered, its weak glow catching on the jagged edges of carvings that writhed in the shadows—figures bent in supplication, or maybe agony, their stone mouths open in silent howls. Beside him, Agatha’s breath came in sharp, shallow bursts, her fingers white-knuckled around the wooden cross she hadn’t let go of since they’d found the pool. The hum from the slab behind them lingered in his ears, a low drone that felt like it was threading through his bones, pulling at something he couldn’t name. “Tomás,” she hissed, her voice barely above a whisper, though it cut through the oppressive quiet like a blade. “Do you feel it? It’s— it’s watching.” He didn’t answer right away, his jaw tight as he squinted into the dark. His other hand hovered near the small flask in his coat pocket, the one he hadn’t touched since yesterday, though the itch for it burned hotter than the cold...