Oliver was never a believer in superstitions himself; he always believed the stories his parents told him about the 'Cursed Forest' were just that—stories. But once he entered the outskirts of Blackwood, the atmosphere changed drastically. The air felt heavy, and the trees seemed to close in on him, their branches twisted and gnarled. The once vibrant colors of the forest gave way to shades of deep green and shadowy black. He took a deep breath and pressed on, guided only by the map and the cryptic clues left by his ancestor.

The path through Blackwood was filled with eerie sounds and unsettling whispers that seemed to come from the very trees themselves. Oliver turned looked around as he tried to check if some of the trees were looking at him, waiting for him to make a misstep. “Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea...” He thought as he continued.

Hours turned into days as he followed the map's trail. The nights were cold and loud with silence, the road was long, tiring. And as Oliver decided to rest for the night, he heard the voice of a man

“Oliver!” He heard the voice of his father coming from a deep dark cave at right beside him.

“Father?!” He asked as he looked at the cave. The boy's heart raced as he heard his father's voice echoing from the cave. It was impossible; his father was dead, along with the rest of his family. The voice was hauntingly familiar, yet he knew it couldn't be real... but.

"Father?" Oliver called out, his voice trembling. "Is that you?"

The cave remained silent for a moment before the voice responded, this time sounding more urgent. "Oliver, you must come inside. There's something I need to show you."

Oliver's mind was a whirlwind. He knew the voice should not be real, ‘but this forest is full of magic... maybe...’ He thought as He took a hesitant step into the cave, the darkness swallowing him up like a hungry beast.

Inside, the cave was damp and filled with the earthy scent of moss and mildew. The walls seemed to close in on him, and the faint echoes of his footsteps reverberated through the narrow passage. Oliver moved deeper into the cave, his lantern flickering ominously.

"Where are you?" he called out, his voice echoing off the cave walls.

"Keep going, Oliver," the voice urged. "You're almost there."

As Oliver ventured further into the cave, he began to see faint, ghostly images flickering in the shadows. He saw his family, smiling and laughing as they gathered around the hearth. It was as if the cave itself was trying to taunt him with memories of happier times.

“NO! STOP!!” He exclaimed.

“Oliver please don’t be like that...” The voice said to him as a large head dug out of the ground , emerging from the darkness. It was his father, John Reddington. His eyes were hollow and souless.

"Father..." Oliver whispered, his voice trembling with a mix of fear and longing.

John's spectral form continued to materialize before him. "I've been waiting for you, my son," he said, his voice both familiar and eerie.

Oliver's heart raced, torn between the desire to embrace the illusion of his father and the knowledge that it couldn't be real. "What is it, Father? What do you want to tell me?"

“Let him eat...” The spectral form said while looking ahead of Oliver.

“What?” The boy turned to see a walking carnivorous plant releasing a transparent liquid from its mouth. It was hungry, and oliver was the one it set it’s sights on...

Oliver's heart pounded in his chest as he faced the looming, carnivorous plant. His father's ghostly form had led him into this nightmarish situation, and he couldn't help but feel a deep sense of betrayal.

"Father, help me!" Oliver cried out, desperately hoping that the apparition could somehow intervene. But John Reddington remained silent, his spectral eyes fixed on his son.

The carnivorous plant lunged forward with lightning speed, its jaws snapping shut just inches from Oliver's face. He stumbled backward, narrowly avoiding the deadly trap. The plant hissed and thrashed, its long tendrils reaching for Oliver, who was now trapped in a narrow alcove of the cave.

In his panicked state, Oliver frantically searched for a way out. He glanced at the lantern in his hand, realizing that it might be his only hope. With trembling hands, he hurled the lantern at the plant. The glass shattered, and the oil inside ignited, creating a burst of flames that engulfed the creature. It screeched in pain and recoiled, writhing in agony as the fire consumed it.

The cave filled with acrid smoke and the stench of burning flesh. Oliver coughed and wheezed, struggling to breathe in the thick air. He watched in horror as the plant turned to ashes, its monstrous form reduced to nothing but charred remains.

As the smoke began to clear, Oliver saw that his father's spectral form had disappeared. The illusion that had lured him into the deadly trap was gone. He was alone in the dark cave, shaken but alive.

He hurriedly left the cave now devoid of any source of light aside from some of the luminescent mushrooms on the floor. He went back to where he dropped the rest of his supplies, but they were all gone and the map, ripped to pieces...

Oliver looked at the ripped journals, bed, and map. Not to mention, All the food he had prepared was also gone... He was trapped in a place that was impossible to escape, he had no food, no water, no way out, no one to turn to. He knelt down, completely defeated, completely terrified, completely alone.

‘Damn it... DAMN!!!’ Oliver thought as he looked up. He remembered the things he had seen in the cave, the happy days around the hearth, the destruction of his village, the death of his family... Wrenwood plagued him, his hunger to kill the shadow plagued him, and this hunger just kept growing.

Without a thought in his head, he got up. At that moment, he made a decision. Until he killed that shadow, or he died himself, he would not stop. That... was his solemn vow...