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The Debt of Hollow Bells

fantasy◐ Mature
5 contributors · 3 paragraphs deep

Maren read the page by lantern light. It described tonight in perfect detail: the early bell, her shaking hands, even the lantern she held. The last line said, "She will dig up grave 601 before dawn, or the bells stop ringing for good." She had only six hundred graves. There was no 601. Not yet.

Maren took her spade to the far corner where no grave had ever been dug. The frozen ground gave way far too easily, like it had been waiting. Two feet down, her spade struck wood. A coffin lid nobody had buried. Carved into it was a single word: HERS.

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Maren pried the lid open. The coffin was empty except for a small bell, blacker than the rest, with her own name etched on the rim. The voice rose from the empty box. "Ring it," it said, "and you take my place keeping the dead. Refuse, and you join them. Choose, Bellkeeper."

SV
Sasha Volkov
8 votes · future 1 of 2