Prologue
Kurtis found himself standing before an imposing pumpkinhead statue, its grotesque features looming over him. The air was thick with an eerie stillness, the kind that only befits a realm detached from the mortal world. Here, in a town hidden from ordinary eyes, Kurtis awaited the arrival of the three witches, the enigmatic figures integral to the delicate balance between worlds. The duty of the Lux Veritatis was clear – to ensure these mystical beings remained confined within this realm, preventing their sinister designs from permeating the unsuspecting world beyond. Irony, it seemed, had brought him to solicit help from the very creatures he held in contempt.
As he stood there, the shadows danced and shifted, casting fleeting shapes upon the ground. Creatures of the night slinked by, each embodying a different facet of the supernatural: a vampire's gaze met his, a glint of curiosity underlying its timeless allure; a pair of luminous eyes, both wild and wary, belonged to a lurking werewolf; translucent apparitions, wisps of sorrow, floated by like fragments of forgotten memories; trolls and ogres, ancient and rugged, exchanged knowing glances; the Pumpkinhead people, their faces etched with enigmatic expressions, seemed to emanate an air of silent wisdom; skeletons rattled as they shuffled along, a cacophony of bone against stone; mischievous goblins chuckled in the shadows, their intentions ambiguous yet tinged with an odd sense of camaraderie; humanoid forms, indistinct and intriguing, eluded easy categorization.
A shiver crept down Kurtis' spine, a disquiet that matched the unsettling tableau before him. He couldn't help but trace the events back to the artifact Lara had uncovered – a catalyst that had led them to this juncture. Love for her pulsed within his heart, its rhythm underscoring his every thought. He knew her tenacity as a Tomb Raider, her insatiable thirst for discovery and adventure. And yet, in moments like these, he yearned for her to heed his counsel, to listen to the concerns he had voiced about that accursed tomb. Stubbornness had always defined her, an unyielding spirit that had drawn him to her, but also one that now left her ensnared in the clutches of a warlock, a pawn in this unfolding struggle.
Amidst the tapestry of uncertainty, Kurtis grappled with a week that had spiraled beyond his control. Halloween, a night meant for camaraderie and lighthearted festivities, now bore the weight of demons both figurative and literal. His plans had been clear – to hunt down the malevolent entities that dared to breach the barrier between worlds, to reclaim them and return them to this realm. A sense of duty propelled him, driven by the oath he held to his Order, even though his reputation as a wanted man in some quarters loomed large.
As the minutes ticked by, the air became charged with anticipation. His gaze fixated on the approaching witches, their presence a blend of fascination and dread. He could no longer evade the inevitable, the narrative of their plight ready to spill from his lips. Exhaling a resigned sigh, Kurtis steeled himself, emotions and thoughts entwined, as he embarked on the retelling of the tumultuous events that had unfurled over the past week.