Verity's Arc

Chapter 1 of 2

Verity drifted through the abandoned hospital's third floor, her tattered robes trailing behind her. She had haunted these halls for decades, watching investigators come and go. Some arrived seeking fame, others wanting proof of the afterlife. Her white eyes gleamed in the darkness as she studied each group, judging their intentions. The worthy ones she guided safely through, showing them gentle signs. The corrupt ones—those who mocked the dead or sought only money—never left. This was her purpose now, her eternal test. She decided who deserved to walk away and who would stay forever. But the hospital felt too small now. Too many investigators had mapped its rooms and hallways. She needed a new place to judge them, somewhere they wouldn't expect. Verity left through the crumbling walls and floated into the swamp beyond the town's edge. The black water stretched before her, silent and still. She found what she needed at the water's edge—a beaver dam built from blackened wood. The structure sat low and hidden, blending into the murky water. Perfect. She could watch from here, unseen, as investigators searched the swamp. Near the dam stood an old grave made of driftwood, its wood dark with age and covered in moss. The grave reminded her of judgments long past, of justice delivered in simpler times. Verity settled onto the weathered dock nearby, its planks soft with rot and moss. From here she could see anyone who came looking. The black water reflected nothing. The dam would become her new refuge, the place where she would continue her work. Investigators would come eventually—they always did. They would search the swamp with their cameras and meters, hoping to find her. She would watch them from the shadows. She would listen to their words and measure their hearts. And when the time came, she would decide their fate, just as she had done for all the others before them.