The pitch at dusk is empty, but the turf hums
with old magic. A woman in a worn tweed coat
stands at the edge of the field, her breath
fogging in the cold. She carries a sketchbook,
but no pencil—only a blade hidden in her sleeve.
Her name is Maura, and she has been chosen to
watch the game that will decide the fate of the
village.
The GAA rivalry between Clonmack and Kilmore has
always been bitter, but this year it is
different. The match is not just about victory—
it is a ritual. The losing team’s captain must
submit to a curse: a week of sleepless nights,
haunted by visions of the dead. Maura’s mission
is to expose the ritual, but she is not the only
one watching. A shadow moves in the stands,
unseen but felt.
During the game, the ball is stolen by a boy
from Clonmack, a child who should not be playing.
He runs toward the goal, but the ground shifts
beneath him. The earth splits open, revealing a
circle of stones etched with ancient symbols.
The crowd gasps as the boy collapses, his body
convulsing. Maura steps forward, but the referee
calls a foul. The match continues, but the air
is thick with something wrong.
After the game, Maura follows the boy to a
cottage on the edge of the woods. Inside, she
finds a woman with eyes like polished coal. The
woman speaks in a language that tastes of iron
and ash. She offers Maura a choice: reveal the
truth and bring ruin to the village, or stay
silent and let the curse continue. Maura refuses.
She takes a photograph of the stones, but when
she develops it, the image shows the boy
standing in the middle of the circle, smiling.
The next night, Maura returns to the pitch. The
stones are gone, but the ground is still warm.
She draws a new symbol in the dirt, one she
learned from a book she stole from the library.
The wind howls, and the earth trembles. When the
sun rises, the village is quiet. No one speaks
of the game. The GAA trophy remains in
Clonmack’s hall, but the players have all left.
Maura stays, her sketches now filled with shapes
that do not belong to this world.
