The damp envelope and its cryptic
message haunted Emma for hours.
She stared at the paper, running her
fingers over the jagged letters as if
they’d reveal some hidden meaning.
Max stayed close, his golden eyes
darting between her and the front
door. He seemed more alert than
ever, his ears flicking at the faintest
sound.
“Protector,” Emma murmured. “What are you protecting me from?”
She glanced at Buddy’s old collar
lying on the table beside Max’s. The
glowing emblem on Max’s collar had
dulled in the daylight, but it still
seemed alive, pulsating faintly,
Determined to make sense of the
bizarre events, Emma pulled out her
laptop and began researching
symbols and runes. Hours passed,
and frustration mounted as she found nothing resembling the
emblem.
It wasn’t until she stumbled onto an
obscure forum about ancient
protective symbols that her heart
stopped. There it was-a near match
to the emblem on the collars. The
symbol was referred to as “The Mark
of the Guardian.”
Emma read aloud from the forum:
“The Mark of the Guardian is
believed to protect its bearer from dark entities, binding them to a
sacred task. Legends claim the
mark chooses both the bearer and
their guardian.”
Her hands trembled as she scrolled
further. The thread was filled with
warnings: “Guardians are hunted by those who seek the mark’s power.”
She glanced at Max, who lay at her
feet, his eyes fixed on the front door.
“Is that what you are, Max? My
guardian?” she whispered.
Max let out a low whine, as if
answering her.
Before she could dwell on the
thought, the room grew cold. A chill
swept through the house, and the
lights flickered. Max sprang to his
feet, barking furiously.
“Max, what is it?” Emma asked, her
voice quivering.
The barking stopped abruptly. Max
stood frozen, his body tense, his
gaze fixed on the hallway.
Emma followed his line of sight
There, etched faintly on the wall, was the same emblem from the collars. The glowing outline pulsed faintly like a warning.
Her blood ran cold. She hadn’t seen that mark before, and it definitely wasn’t there earlier.
The lights flickered again, and a
deep, guttural growl echoed through
the house. It wasn’t coming from
Max.
Emma’s breath hitched. She grabbed
Max’s collar as if holding onto him
would keep her safe.
The growl grew louder, reverberating through the walls. Then came the whispers–low, insidious, and closer than ever.
The mark on the wall flared brightly,
casting the room in an eerie glow.
Emma turned in every direction
searching for the source of the
sound. Her heart pounded as the
whispers formed words:
“You cannot keep him. He belongs
to us.”
Max growled fiercely, his teeth bared, as the whispers grew louder.
The mark on the wall began to fade,
leaving behind the smell of smoke
and ash. Emma stumbled back,
clutching Max tightly.
“Max, what do they want? Why are
they after you?”
Max looked up at her, his golden eyes filled with something that looked like determination-and fear.
Before Emma could process what
had happened, there was a loud bang at the front door.
Her breath caught. She could see a
shadow moving on the other side of
the frosted glass.
Whoever–or whatever-it was, had
finally come.