Destiny: Chosen For Battle

Gold's POV

I lay down on my bed, feeling freaking tired from the journey. Nine whole days on the road. I swear to the gods, if it wasn't because it was my dad's last request for me to join this damn adventure to kill the devil, I wouldn't be here.

I'd probably be chilling somewhere else with my girlfriend—or rather, my ex-girlfriend. She broke up with me thinking I would die since I was picked as one of the Chosen. I didn't blame her, though. She needed space, I guess.

Nixon walked into my room without knocking, smirking at me.

"What's up, bro? Can I spend the night here?" he asked, his hands tucked into his pockets.

"Sure," I said, giving him space to sleep beside me.

Even when Destiny said it'd be better if we slept in groups, I didn't care and picked an empty room because I wanted to be alone. But I guess I wouldn't be having that tonight anyway.

"Something doesn't feel right about this place," I told Nixon, staring at the ceiling. "I don't feel comfortable." I frowned slightly.

"Well, I do," Nixon chuckled, casually brushing off my concern. I sighed.

"If you don't feel comfortable here, why'd you come sleep here all alone?" he asked without looking at me.

I turned to look at his side profile and rolled my eyes. "If you feel comfortable here, then why'd you decide to come sleep here with me?" I asked, twisting his question.

"Touche." He laughed, and I chuckled, shaking my head.

"It was kinda boring and quiet with the others, and I needed someone to talk to," he said, raising a brow.

"I like Camila," he added, and that got my interest.

"Damn, bro, but she's got no ass," I laughed. Nixon turned his head to glare at me.

"Not funny, Gold," he said in a low voice. I cleared my throat—it was a joke.

I sat up, resting my back against the white wall.

"But she's pretty," Nixon added. I smirked.

"She is. But Destiny is prettier than all the girls. Her white hair and blue eyes—she looks just like an angel," I whispered with a sigh.

"And what's more is, she's got big ass and boobs," I added.

"Yeah, I know, but I think Kelvin loves her. I've seen him staring at her most times," Nixon replied. I nodded—I'd caught Kelvin staring at her quite a few times.

"Yes, but Camila is beautiful too. She's just kind of rude and talks less—apart from when she told us about the Dark Forest," I said.

"Okay, time for bed," Nixon said, turning to face the other side of the bed.

But I couldn't sleep. Something kept nagging at me—it wasn't safe here. Not for any of us.

I might not have supernatural powers, but trust me, I'm very wise.

I got up and left my room, trying to explore the house. I walked down to the veranda. I could feel something—or someone—following my footsteps.

I ignored it and kept moving. The house... it felt alive. I touched the walls, feeling the movements inside.

Closing my eyes, I listened closely. There was a faint sound—it was a child. I could tell from the childish voice.

"Go to the basement," I heard a little girl's voice say, and my eyes snapped open.

I went down to the basement. It was dark and dusty, so I turned on my flashlight.

The walls were lined with old, dead-looking paintings. In the middle of the basement was a big black box, locked tight.

Curiosity got the best of me. I tried opening it with a hammer, but it wouldn't budge.

I carried the box to the sitting room and sat down on the couch, trying different keys, but none worked.

"Hey," a faint child's voice said.

I turned to my left, and there she was—a little girl. I blinked, wondering if my brain was just screwing with me or if I was seeing a ghost.

"Yes, I'm a ghost," she replied with a smile.

I just stared at her, shocked. Could she read my mind? She walked over and sat beside me, looking at the box.

"Those keys won't open my box," she said with a pout.

"What's in there?" I asked.

"You'll find out yourself," she smirked. Cocky little thing.

"How old are you?" I asked.

"Five. And you?" she smiled.

"Eighteen," I replied.

"You love smiling, don't you?" I asked. She didn't reply, just stared at her pink little shoes.

"You must leave this place," she said, her eyes meeting mine. Her earlier giggles were gone, replaced by a serious look.

"Staying here for more than five hours is dangerous for all of you," she added.

"But we've been stuck here for more than five hours," I said.

"The longer you stay here... the higher the risk. You all might die," she stammered, frowning.

"Tell me... what's in this house?" I asked.

"I don't know," she said.

"Is it demons?" I asked. She laughed loudly.

"Demons? Oh, you wish," she said.

"What is it, then?" I frowned, already pissed off.

"It's not up to me. But you'll need me later," she said, vanishing into thin air.

I sighed, anxious for morning. I needed to tell Lex and the others so we could leave before things got out of hand.

I glanced at the box one last time before falling asleep on the couch.

---

Morning came.

I felt a soft hand rubbing my face. Opening my eyes, I saw June staring at me.

"Hey, good morning, sleepyhead," she smiled.

I rubbed my eyes, sitting up properly.

"June, call the others," I said.

"Even a 'good morning' would do," she hissed.

"We need to leave, June. It's not safe," I frowned.

"Why?" she replied.

"Just call the others!" I yelled.

"Gold... what's wrong? You look restless," she said, concerned.

I took a deep breath. I could tell she wanted me to spill everything.

"The longer we stay here, the more we're asking for death. There's something in this house, and it's going to kill us all," I said.

"Look at that box over there. We need to open it," I added.

June stared at me for a while, silent. Then she smirked.

"I believe you. Finally, someone feels the same way I do about this place."