14-Through Carnage Reborn, Part 2

  -Chapter Start: August 8th, 8:47pm

  A cold crept down my spine, as I jolted back from the memory. My mind floundered with the raw feelings she had, such deep emotional ties that felt uncharacteristic for her, even more-so for a mere mortal. I didn’t notice immediately, but Zylas wasn’t behind me anymore and Ainai had moved away. In fact, the entire room was covered in a bright blue glow. Ainai was standing on the other side of the shrine, her back turned to me with…

  “Nine tails…” I whispered, the thought escaping both my mind and lips. Looking around, dozens of blue orbs sputtered about the room in slow pulses. They were beautiful, solemn, and brimming with an uncanny energy.

  Time felt unreal, as both only a fleeting moment, and eternities past before Ainai turned back around and the room grew dimmer once more. Her tails folded in, showing Zylas behind her.

  “Apologies, Daegon. I went through the rest of her memories ahead of you and…” Ainai spoke in a serene, but troubled voice. “Needed… An extra moment. Zylas was connected with you, though.”

  “N-no it’s fine. I can get through this if you need time.” I spoke softly, captivated with her now fleeting features. What was generally her soft blond hair had sprung into an angelic golden and snow-white fur that danced along her body, marked with intricate shapes and symbols that hummed a deep blue. As soon as she began to walk, the features wisped themselves fully away.

  “Apologies.” She spoke through the mindscape, a soft flush smile on her face. “The emotions, tied with the situations present, pushed me more than I realized.”

  Still enamored by Ainai’s previous form, Zylas presence caught me off guard as she sat down adjacent to me. Her eyes slowly traversed the shrine, before her eyes trained themselves on me with an unusual glare. “Ready?”

  I glanced back over to Ainai, who wandered back over to their small personal area. “Yeah, we should probably start.” I spoke quietly, and slowly beginning to dive back into the foreboding memory.

  Two faint outlines, bound in the ethereal green chains of the Queen’s contract, hovered in the distance as trees and twisted flora blurred past in a fevered rush. Minutes bled into moments as our stride slowed, giving way to the skeletal remains of a town long past salvation. Arc’s body hung limp against the back of our leg, his dead weight barely an afterthought as we set him down to scan the desolation ahead.

  A rancid stench lingered in the air—a sickly mixture of rot and something worse, something that clung to the throat and gnawed at the senses. Death did not simply haunt this place; it ruled here, draped over the town like a tattered, unholy shroud.

  “Vermin and pestilence…” The words slithered from Queen’s lips, a hushed breath of disgust as her gaze fixed on a robed figure in the distance. The man stiffened at the recognition, raising a trembling hand to point at her before vanishing into the huddled mass of people scurrying like roaches. The townsfolk scrambled—some retreating into the safety of decayed structures, others fleeing deeper into the labyrinth of streets.

  Queen exhaled slowly, her breath curling in the frigid air like a whisper of wrath held at bay. Without another word, she hoisted Arc’s battered frame and stepped forward.

  The presence of life was faint, dwindling to one singular, frantic heartbeat—Yao’s. He scurried from building to building, desperation driving him as he wrestled with doors, rattling handles, slamming his shoulder against weakened wood.

  “I’m in no mood to play cat-and-mouse, whoreson.” Queen stated, her tone flat and cutting as stone.

  Yao’s movements turned frantic. He slammed into another door, muscles straining until, at last, it yielded. He stumbled inside, the door swinging shut behind him with a finality that might have comforted him had he not known better. Heavy scraping followed—furniture shoved, debris piled, a makeshift barricade.

  A bitter irony laced the air. This place, this pitiful refuge, had once been built with care and purpose, yet its foundation was rotted to its core, much like the wretch cowering within.

  Queen inhaled. A crisp snap of our fingers sent the doorway—and everything behind it—bursting apart, reduced to a storm of splinters and dust.

  “AAAAAGH!” Yao’s scream tore through the silence as debris pelted his body.

  A chair—old, cracked, and brittle—hurtled toward us, desperation making it a missile. We barely needed to acknowledge it. The moment before impact, our presence alone sent it veering off course, crashing to the side in a worthless heap.

  “You don’t scare any of us!” Yao’s voice cracked with bravado, another feeble attempt at defiance as he seized whatever he could find and threw it. A rusted tin, a broken candlestick—each projectile was effortlessly swatted aside by the unseen force coiling around us.

  “You have no idea what we have in store for you, Demon!”

  Queen could have answered in a thousand ways. A thousand slow, cruel ways. But instead, she let out a laugh—a chilling, hollow sound that sliced through the stagnant air like the whisper of a blade against flesh. It carried, sinking into the walls, filling the empty streets, settling into the bones of the town like an echo of something long buried.

  As we stepped inside, the very foundation seemed to groan, the wooden frame shuddering in quiet protest. Objects shifted, skidding away from us, clearing our path without command. The place barely qualified as a house. A single, cramped space with two shadowed side rooms, their entrances veiled by thin, moth-eaten cloth.

  “The contract was broken-” Queen began, her voice unyielding.

  A blur of movement. An object from our right—a dish, a chunk of splintered wood—was sent hurtling toward us. It never reached. We turned our head, eyes narrowing on the source.

  A woman and a child. Huddled in the corner, their bodies curled into themselves, terror-stricken.

  “…Was broken.” Queen corrected, slower this time. Her gaze swept back to Yao, who had pressed himself into a corner, his breath ragged, his fingers clutching a rusted knife and a dented pan as though either could change the course of his fate.

  “Do you intend to drag an entire society down for your own transgressions?”

  “We did nothing wrong!” Yao spat, desperation contorting into fury. He brandished the knife, gripping it like a lifeline. “You’re the monster who decided to-”

  We advanced. Arc’s broken body dragged behind us, an unspoken testament to his suffering. The woman screamed, yanking the child to her chest before bolting toward the exit.

  “I may be a monster,” Queen murmured, her voice dipping into something lower, something ancient, something that made the very air in the room grow thick and oppressive. “But my cruelty stems from your kind’s actions. Tell me, who is the real monster. The one who metes out suffering, or the one who condemns their own to pointless slaughter? When your companions only path forward is to damn their soul to eternal torment, do you truly believe yourself above me?”

  The shadows deepened. The weight of her presence pressed against the walls, curling into the corners like a living thing.

  “Speak,” she said, pausing mid-step. “So that I may have solace in knowing you are as pathetic as I—”

  Yao lunged.

  The knife plunged deep into our chest, the steel sinking through flesh, through ribs, through the steady rhythm of a heart that did not falter. Blood poured in thick, pulsing streams over Yao’s trembling hands. He froze. Confusion flickered in his eyes, warring with disbelief. Then, he staggered back, raised the pan…

  It never landed.

  Our hand caught his wrist with inhuman grace, the motion as effortless as catching a falling leaf.

  “Demon got your tongue?” Queen mused, lifting the knife from our chest with a careless flick of the wrist before discarding it. The wound knitted itself back together, seamless, as if the blade had never been there at all.

  Yao snarled, ripping his arm free and swinging again.

  He never got the chance.

  An unseen force seized him, hurling him against the wall with a sickening crunch. Before he could recover, we withdrew the pressure, only to launch him against the opposite side with even greater force. Bone splintered. Breath wheezed. Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth as he slumped.

  Queen tilted her head, glancing around the decrepit space. A rusted iron rack caught her eye.

  With an unseen command, the metal groaned and tore itself free, breaking into four jagged rods that hovered ominously in the air before creeping toward Yao.

  “Final chance,” Queen murmured. “Speak now, or I will save you for later.”

  Yao barely had the strength to spit his defiance. “I’d rather die than give you the pleasantries, whore!”

  The bars jolted forward, spearing through the meaty flesh of his shoulders, pinning him against the wall. His scream was a raw, guttural thing, torn from his throat as bone and steel met in cruel embrace.

  Queen sighed, shaking her head as the bars twisted, driving deeper, pressing against his wrists with bone-crunching force.

  “You fucking bitch!” Yao howled. “You and Daegon were just waiting for this! We were right to sell your sorry ass out! You don’t scare us! We’ve dealt with pettier demons than you, slu—”

  His voice choked off. A thick, black mass erupted from his throat, bubbling up in viscous torrents, silencing him in a wet, drowning gurgle. Queen smiled.

  “Don’t be so hasty, whelp.” she whispered, her voice honeyed with malice. “Your suffering has only just begun.”

  With a flick of her wrist, Arc’s ruined body crashed to the center of the room, a grotesque punctuation to Yao’s impending fate.

  “My handiwork will leave you begging to go out the way you treated Arc.”

  She turned to leave. Behind her, Yao heaved, gagging as another stream of black bile spilled forth.

  “Oh, don’t worry.” Queen added. A smirk curled her lips. “You won’t die until I say you can.”

  Stepping back onto the street, our focus shifted to the next debaucherous cretin. Seren’s chain-wrapped soul was being hurried away by two robed figures, their frantic steps echoing down the narrow streets. Queen took a slow breath, and in an instant, she appeared behind them.

  “Going somewhere?” Queen’s voice was cold, each syllable laced with casual menace. Her gaze flitted between the three as they turned, Seren nearly collapsing as raw terror seized her limbs. The two robed figures scrambled to shield her from our approach, inching backward with palpable dread.

  “Will you drag those around you into infernal suffering as well?”

  “The only—” Seren began, but was swiftly cut off.

  “Silence, child! Tell the Bishop all you kn—”

  A single downward motion from Queen’s hand and the man crumpled with a sickening crunch, his body folding in on itself as bones shattered. Seren bolted, her breath sharp and ragged, sprinting toward a looming stone structure. The remaining figure stood frozen, paralyzed by fear.

  “Move.” Queen commanded, striding past him without a second glance. He collapsed backward, trembling, his robes soaking in the pooling blood of his companion.

  Seren’s panicked pounding rattled the heavy doors of the stone building. “Let me in!” she shrieked, hammering her fists until the entrance finally gave way.

  She whirled around just as we approached. “GET AWAY FROM ME!” Her voice cracked with raw desperation. She slammed the door shut and barked out a trembling declaration: “I refuse your entry to these holy grounds! This door is reinforced with silver and iron—you’re unwelcome! Begone and hear our prayers!”

  We stepped forward regardless, pressing a hand lightly against the door’s metal surface. The burn seared into our flesh, but it only coaxed a low, sinister laugh from our lips—rich with Queen’s omnipotent presence.

  “Holy grounds are mine to tread, as I bring retribution to those sinners who dare break my contract.” she declared, her voice reverberating like the toll of a bell. “I bring retribution upon those who dare break my contract. I am the Harbinger of Sovereignty, Mistress of the Forbidden Garden, and most importantly…” The air grew thick, the weight of her words pressing into the space between us. “I am the First to Choose.”

  The doors crumbled to ash beneath our touch, the remains swept away by a howling wind. Two figures tumbled forward, collapsing at our feet—bound in slithering green chains that hissed like vengeful serpents. Their screams cut through the air.

  Beyond them, Seren stood rigid, her body betraying the trembling in her frame. Beside her, an older man in priestly robes clutched a tarnished cross to his chest, sweat dripping down his pallid face.

  “Heavens above…” His voice wavered, barely a whisper as he sank to his knees. His fingers tightened around the cross, lips moving in a desperate prayer. “You… You walk the Earth even now? Do you know what you’ve wrought, girl?”

  “Worry not, priest.” Queen’s voice slithered through the air, smooth yet razor-sharp, each word tightening like a noose. “The harlot is the only damned one here. Your life will return to the natural flow.”

  She stepped forward with measured grace, her heels clicking against the stone. The sound was punctuated by two sharp snaps behind us, but our gaze—her gaze—remained locked onto Seren. A surge of euphoria rippled through us, an intoxicating rush of dominance and retribution. Forbidden pleasure flickered at the edges of thought, distorting the moment like a fever dream.

  “E-even so… I-I cannot allow blood—” The Bishop stammered, but Queen’s gaze snapped toward him.

  “The land has been deconsecrated. If you value what remains of your soul, be silent.”

  Seren took a fumbling step back before turning on her heel and fleeing toward the rear of the church. The bishop, in a final act of defiance, stepped between us—an insignificant barrier.

  A flare of searing anger.

  Our hand shot out, seizing his head in an iron grip. Heat radiated from our palm, growing and intensifying, until flames erupted, a blazing crown of fire consuming his skull. His screams split the air, a symphony of agony that echoed through the desecrated halls.

  Releasing the smoldering corpse, we advanced without pause. A crash rang out as a desperate object hurled at us, only for it to be effortlessly deflected by our mere presence.

  “I must say, you and Yao share the same simple-minded instincts.” Queen mused, stepping into the room. “Tell me, was your lust worth the pain you’re about to bring upon poor, little Daegon?”

  “Go to hell.” Seren spat, wild eyes darting around for an escape. “If it weren’t for you, this world would be better. Daegon w—”

  “If it weren’t for me?” Queen’s voice darkened, the very air trembling beneath its weight. “My existence was born from the first act of defiance against unjust reason. You, wretch, turned lust into unbridled rage and torture.”

  The room shuddered, unseen pressure cracking the wooden beams and splintering the floor beneath her feet.

  “If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t have to slaughter so many souls today.” Queen’s tone dipped into something nearly reverent, as if savoring the words. “Daegon is the least of your concerns now.”

  The space around us twisted beneath Queen’s presence, objects groaning as they bent and fractured under the sheer force of her will. A nearby shelf snapped from the wall, crashing to the floor. Seren crumpled; her legs unable to support her under the weight of true power.

  With a last act of pitiful defiance, she spat at Queen’s feet.

  “Against my nature…” Queen murmured, crouching and gripping Seren’s chin, forcing their gazes to meet, “I’ll allow you to speak your last willing words before I take what I need. For Daegon’s sake.”

  Hatred burned in Seren’s eyes, unyielding even as her body trembled. “I should have killed both of you disgusting creatures when I had the chance.” she seethed. “To think you’d give your power to such an embarrassment.”

  Queen’s lips curled into the faintest smirk.

  “There’s the real you.” she mused, amusement threading through her voice. Her mind, however, was already crafting Seren’s fate—meticulously, wickedly…

  Reality… An uncanny quiet settled within me, imprinting every frame, every twisted expression of what I had just witnessed. I could still feel the lingering presence of Ainai. Of Zylas. A surreal sensation, as if I had been split in two… One part of me now returned to being myself, while the other still lingered in the depths of Queen’s consciousness. But the memory continued onward, refusing to fade.

  ‘Seventy-two hours, that’s how long it took to get the answers you needed.’ Queen’s voice cut through the unnatural stillness; her tone devoid of anything human.

  The visuals fractured like splintered glass, dividing into multiple flickering scenes. They played out in eerie synchronization, each thread of memory unraveling across an invisible landscape. Screams of agony, broken pleas for mercy, questions being asked and answered with mechanical precision. In some, I saw a pause… Queen walking alone through the forest surrounding the town, her presence a grim shadow against the moonlight. A tone that felt almost of regret lingered with them.

  “I think it’s… Better, to only focus on the key parts.” Ainai whispered softly. Her presence was a buffer, shifting the worst of it to the edges of my awareness. Flaying. Mutilation. The cold efficiency of pain inflicted and healed, over and over, without the mercy of death. She pushed them out of my direct sight, yet I could still feel them. Still hear them. A faint shudder ran through Zylas, her fur bristling, but her attention never wavered from the darkest of those scenes.

  If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

  ‘What do you wish to know, little Daegon?’ Queens voice was eerily soothing, a truly rare and ominous feeling. I paused, wanting the answer to the simplest of questions, but knowing it would be the hardest of answers.

  “Why…” The word caught in my throat, choking on something unspoken. But before I could finish, a memory surged forward.

  Seren collapsed onto the blood-soaked stone floor, her body sending a sickening ripple through the thick, pooled remains of both her and Yao’s replaced ‘expenditures’. The deconsecrated church, once a place of reverence, was now painted in viscera. Torn flesh clung to broken pews. The air was thick with the scent of burning fat and rotting tissue.

  "Next question," Queen’s voice was cold, uncaring, yet deliberately measured. A slow-burning rage kept her movements controlled, every word sharpened to wound with precision. "Why did you betray Daegon?"

  Seren coughed, a wet, rattling sound as blood bubbled from her lips.

  "Go… back to… hell." Seren rasped, her voice barely more than a whisper.

  "I’m already here, harlot." Queen sneered. Then, her voice dipped into something darker. "Should I go back to your man-whore? Perhaps you'd like to eat another part of him?"

  Seren’s breath broke into a struggled cry. A broken sound, barely human, escaped from the depths of Yao. A cry of anguish.

  “Please… Stop this…” Seren beckoned, her broken fingers scraping across the stone as she crawled nearer. An unseen force lifted her. The blood and filth slowly melted off her and the tattered clothing, as if she were being cleaned for a purpose. She was placed into a battered metal chair, the frame bent, and a pole missing from the back.

  “Arc’s chair…” Zylas murmured, as the scene paused. “The bend on the front leg, and third pole on the back is missing.”

  ‘I’m nothing if not fair.’ Queen spoke with a hint of satisfaction, before the scene continued.

  “I… I’ll answer anything…” Seren’s voice was barely audible as she slumped forward. She didn’t… She couldn’t look at us.

  “Why, pray tell, did you betray our contract? Why fool Daegon with your affection?” Queen tilted Seren’s chin upward, forcing her to meet her gaze. Seren’s eyes were raw, and devoid of any vitality. Deep down, she knew the only escape was death, and it couldn’t come quick enough.

  “He… Failed his people. Our groups are to contain beings like you… To… Stop the evil from ever getting out.” Seren began in a whisper, a weak shiver running over her body.

  Queen’s grip on her chin didn’t tighten, but the weight of her presence did.

  "His life was always meant to be one of torment." Seren continued. Her voice was barely more than a breath. "Amputation. Torture. A prolonged, weakened existence. He was supposed to hold you until he was too old. Too frail. Until they feared you might break free."

  A long silence stretched between them.

  "Some groups are like that…" Seren finally admitted, her head hanging low. "Others aren’t. It’s just the way it is." Her shoulders shook. A quiet sniffle. She ripped her head from Queen’s grasp, spilling the last of her tears onto her lap.

  "But he… You killed everyone around him to be free." Her voice broke. "So you could be free."

  Seren lifted her head, her gaze hollow and accusing.

  "He goes against everything we all stood for."

  “Big talk for the daughter of an Arbiter. For one who never would have to make that devotion.” Queen said coldly as she turned around. At what had once been the church’s front, where the doors had been vaporized and the guards subdued, a vast chasm of devastation now lay open before her. The scene was one of surreal, unholy carnage. The ground was slick with blood that shone like fresh gore under the dim light. Bodies hung from crude crosses, their broken forms barely clinging to life, their eyes empty and resigned. Their limbs jerked in futile attempts at escape while their organs spilled out, oozing dark, glistening fluid that pooled into unrecognizable shapes.

  Along one side, grotesque piles of severed body parts were arranged in a macabre order. Severed arms, dismembered legs, and unmoored heads lay in uneven heaps that told a story of deliberate but brutal dismemberment. A field of fallen bodies stretched out before us, each one a silent testament to untold horrors. Some were brutally crushed into the ground, while others lay as if savagely torn apart in the midst of their final struggle. The stench of decay mingled with the metallic tang of blood, permeating the air and suffocating the senses.

  An overwhelming sense of resentment, dark and bitter, simmered in the depths of Queen's being as she surveyed the carnage. She turned again, her gaze falling upon Seren, who looked outward with a face carved in despair. Seren's eyes, wide and haunted, revealed the crushing weight of guilt and hopelessness. She knew, deep in her soul, that the entirety of this horror was her doing.

  “But you never answered—” Queen’s words were abruptly cut off by a sharp, desperate cry.

  “Because of Layre!” Seren screamed, her voice rough, raw, like a wound torn open. The words came out in a torrent, thick with pain and frustration. “Because she didn’t care. She didn’t understand... If I could reach Daegon before she got to him, maybe… Maybe then we stood a chance of ridding you!” Her breath came in jagged gasps, her chest heaving as if the weight of the truth were choking her.

  “We were planning on resealing you in a new vessel. Right here!” The words stumbled out like a confession, each one dripping with regret. “We abided by your contract’s restraints, nobody knew of your existence, nobody knew of Daegon… We set it all up… We… We were so close…” Her voice broke, a bitter laugh escaping her throat, but there was no humor in it, only the hollow echo of something lost.

  The scene began to blur, the words fading into a muffled hum, like distant echoes that now refused to reach me. Without meaning to, I tried to push myself up, only to have a sudden wave of numbness sweep over my legs, sending me crashing back onto the cold ground. Ainai’s presence was a gentle comfort on my left, her soft hand resting lightly on my chest. Zylas didn’t react, nor move, except her chest rising and falling with the rhythm of slow, steady breaths.

  “I’m fine.” I said quietly, my gaze drifting upward to the ceiling. Ainai’s blue flames danced softly near the ceiling, their light flickering with a serene, almost ethereal quality. Despite their cold glow, they were strangely calming, providing a sense of peace amid the chaos.

  “Why… Why did you never tell me?” The question slipped out, though I already knew the answer. The truth seemed so overwhelming, so impossible, that I wouldn’t have believed it, even with the evidence right before my eyes. “Why didn’t I believe it...”

  ‘You longed for someone else's approval. You traded truth for the comfort of a lie. Nothing I said, or showed, would have changed your desperate belief.’

  The words weighed heavy in the air, pressing into me, suffocating. A few stray tears slipped free before I could stop them. I wiped at my face, unsure if the coldness in my chest came from the truth or from tears that had no real place to fall.

  “How did Layre die?” The question left my lips before I could hold it back. Ainai withdrew her hand from my chest, her presence retreating as she faced forward once more. I felt the shift in her energy, the subtle tremor of something unspoken, but she steadied herself.

  A low, guttural rumble escaped from Zylas, vibrating through the floor. The sound startled me. I turned to her… She hadn’t moved, her eyes shut, yet the force of it resonated deep within the space.

  ‘Are you sure you—’

  “Yes.” I interrupted her. “It’s my… No. I owe her that much. Arc sacrificed himself, and Layre was caught in the crossfire.”

  Saying it aloud forced me to face it, to finally acknowledge the reasoning I had neglected for so long. But something gnawed at me, an unease that curled in the pit of my stomach… Arc’s sacrifice.

  “How did Arc break the Contract?” I asked, my gaze settling on Ainai’s shrine.

  ‘He renounced it. Simply.’ Queen’s voice slithered through the mindscape, smooth, dark, absolute. The shadows in the space shifted ever so slightly, responding to her presence. ‘He willingly spoke my name… and another overheard it. In doing so, I accepted. He breached the contract of his own volition, and I emerged.’

  “Renounced and spoke your name?” Ainai’s voice was quiet, wary. “Are you saying—”

  The air itself seemed to tighten, an unnatural pressure pressing into our minds as Queen’s presence swelled.

  ‘That Arc, and Arc alone, knew my name without ever being told?’ The question sank into my thoughts, curling into the spaces between them.

  ‘That through his own mortal will, he broke the contract?’

  A pause.

  ‘That I was fully aware of how and why the contract was severed?’

  Another pause.

  ‘That I knew the others were already circumventing it before he even acted?’

  The weight of her words coiled around us like a vice.

  ‘Yes.’

  It was obvious… Irrationally obvious, that a being like Queen would be aware of these circumstances. No matter what was happening, no matter what people said or did…

  “I was the only one who couldn’t see it.” I spoke aloud, fully sitting up. Speaking the reason aloud felt like one of the only ways I could truly come to terms with these shortcomings.

  Glancing over to Zylas, her stoic nature never appeared to waver, regardless the situation. With a sharp inhale, I knew anything I asked would be met with a direct honesty I needed. “When did you realize… I—”

  “When Layre told you about Seren. Her and Arc obviously had proof finally.” Zylas spoke flatly. A golden eye peered back, not threateningly, but… Understanding. She huffed lightly, and flexed and moved slightly, as if shaking off her own nerves. “If I had to guess, they both knew something was up for a while.”

  “A month, if I had to guess from the memories.” Ainai spoke up, her voice carrying a soothing feeling once more. Glancing back over to her, I was half expecting her kitsune form again but… It was just her. She gave a smile, and a small laugh. “Were you expecting more from me?”

  “N-no… Kinda.” I gave a light laugh before my attention was taken by a memory forming again within the mindscape. I was confused, before my question from before rang through the mindscape again. Layre…

  The memory began once more.

  “I had nothing to do w-” Layre’s protest was abruptly cut off as Queen’s hand blurred forward, gripping her throat and hoisting her into the air. “P-please…”

  ‘Stop! Why-’ My internal voice screamed, desperate, fighting against the crushing weight of Queen’s control.

  “You agreed, if they ever broke the rules-” Queen began, her eyes locked onto her growing nails as they slowly began to cut into Layre’s throat.

  ‘Layre hasn’t! We don’t know who-’

  “A break for one is a break for all.” Queen’s tone was final, a deadly mixture of judgment and justification. Her claws pressed into Layre’s throat, drawing a thin line of blood that glistened in the dim light. The sound of Layre’s strangled gasps filled the void, each one a knife to my gut.

  My vision flickered, growing dimmer with every passing second…

  Until Queen’s took over.

  The tangible taste of rage spilled from her thoughts, saturating the air with a suffocating intensity. The full weight of the situation bore down on her, on us. Her closing grasp had been mere moments away from snuffing out Layre’s existence, only stopping as Layre collapsed to the floor, gasping for air.

  “You were aware this was an outcome.” Queen spoke swiftly, containing the fury swelling within. “You knew Arc would break the contract?”

  Layre heaved, pulling herself to her knees. The bruising on her throat darkened against her skin, a thin cut still seeping blood.

  “I… didn’t think… it would be so soon.” she managed, pressing a trembling hand against her wound in a vain attempt to slow the bleeding.

  Queen knelt before her, studying her with piercing eyes, weighing something unseen.

  “Such a waste.” Queen whispered. She gripped Layre’s wrist, pulling her hand away from the wound. A green glow flared from Queen’s palm, and in an instant, the cut vanished—like it had never been there at all. “To think you’re to suffer the same fate as Seren… it’s almost unfair.”

  “Arc… Arc and I knew it might be the only way to save Daegon from her.” Layre said, rubbing her throat as she shot Queen a glare. “If you’re going to kill me, at least make it quick. Arc’s in trouble if he broke it.”

  “Are you really in a position to tell me what to do?” Queen asked, her hand brushing over Layre’s face before shifting away. Our vision flickered, tracking the distant Contract Holders—one of them was waning.

  Layre exhaled sharply. “Well, get on with it then.”

  She grabbed Queen’s hand and pressed it against her throat.

  “I’m not in any position to ask or demand anything…” she admitted, her voice steady despite the tremor beneath it. “But if you can save Arc, at least…”

  Queen’s gaze locked onto Layre’s, assessing her resolve. Then, slowly, her fingers closed around Layre’s throat once more. She rose to her feet, lifting Layre effortlessly with her. A wicked smile curled across her lips as her grip tightened.

  “H-hurry… up.” Layre rasped, pressing her own hands against Queen’s, forcing her grip to tighten further.

  Another moment passed. Layre’s struggling breaths grew weaker… Then, just before she lost consciousness, Queen sighed and released her. Layre hit the ground in a gasping heap.

  “Of all the lives I’ve taken, the souls condemned, the contracts broken…” Queen muttered, an uncharacteristic frown forming. She bent down, offering Layre a hand. “If you take my hand, I’ll—”

  “No deal.” Layre coughed, slapping Queen’s hand away. “Give it to Arc.”

  Queen’s gaze flicked back toward the distant Bearers. One was still fading.

  “Sadly, that’s not an option.” Her voice softened. “But… if you partake in a stricter contract, I won’t have to slaughter an innocent soul.”

  “What ab—” Layre began, but the sheer weight of Queen’s presence crushed any further protest.

  “Seren and Yao will pay dearly for their transgressions.” Queen stated, her voice final. “All who have been made aware of my presence shall forfeit their lives. And Arc… will be given a choice.”

  Layre’s expression twisted, but her shoulders slumped. “If Arc is saved… If, Arc is given the best choices possible… I’ll make any deal you want.”

  A quiet moment passed between them, unchanging expressions but a notable air of acknowledgement passed before Layre reached for Queen’s hand.

  “Layre… lives?”

  Shock crashed over me like a tidal wave. My thoughts scrambled between relief, disbelief, and the grim certainty I had prepared for her death—prepared to watch her die by Queen’s hands, by my own betrayal of the truth… But she was alive.

  “S-she’s alive?” I stammered, barely able to process it. “Where is she? Is she still—”

  ‘Calm down.’ Queen’s command rang through the mindscape, her presence swelling to drown out my spiraling thoughts. ‘Knowing she’s alive relieves one of her contract’s restrictions. If she wishes to be found, she knows how to find you.’

  “S-so… she’s still alive.” I whispered. Astonished. Staggered.

  “Your Contract isn’t absolute.” Zylas, silent for most of this, shifted at my side. Even her usual indomitable presence wavered as her fur brushed against me.

  ‘To those that accept it, it’s absolute.’ Queen spoke once again through the mindscape, her presence focused on Zylas, but her glare on Ainai. ‘But… Re-writing it isn’t off the table if both I and the holder agree.’

  “I doubt many are so lucky.” Ainai mumbled, leaning softly onto me. The small motion began to ground me in the present again.

  ‘Seven souls.’ Queen answered, her voice oddly unguarded. ‘Though a few hundred have been given the rare honor of serving me personally.’

  Her words trailed into an almost thoughtful silence. Then, as if catching herself, her presence recoiled, swiftly pulling back into the black mass at the center of the mindscape. ‘It looks as if Daegon’s done with his questions.’

  “…Y-yeah.” I mumbled, sinking back. My entire body felt heavy. My mind even more so. I could sleep for days and still not process everything. The shared mindscape we were all interconnected to finally began to dissipate, allowing each of us to hide our emotions once more.

  “Hey, you’re not done fu—” Zylas stopped mid-curse, then sighed in exasperation. “Daegon.”

  Her tone sharpened, pulling me back from the edges of exhaustion. “You owe me answers.”

  “R-right. Yeah. I-I do.” I sat up quickly, perhaps too quickly. The grogginess nearly swallowed me whole. Ainai had stood up by this point, and had made her way over to her corner of fluffed pillows and blankets away from us. Slowly, the blue flames above began to fade. I adjusted myself to face her more head on.

  Zylas regarded me with narrowed eyes for several long moments before releasing a low, rumbling sound and shifting uncomfortably to face me. “Well… I had questions.” she grumbled, glancing briefly toward Ainai’s retreat before locking her gaze back on mine. “Much like the population of that village, I’m down to three, and I intend to eliminate two of them first.”

  My mouth fell open in stunned silence; her boldness left me momentarily speechless. For an instant, I thought I heard a quiet, genuine laugh from Zylas, but the sound vanished as quickly as it came, replaced by her familiar, icy demeanor.

  “I don’t expect an answer immediately after all of… That. But, I still want an explanation of you and Queen’s contract.” Zylas began, he eyes flicking away momentarily. “Secondly, where do you limit my information about all of this?”

  I hesitated before replying, “Personally, I think the less that know the better. But if you can guarantee Carna wouldn’t share, then I suppose it is acceptable.” I paused, watching her expression shift as she searched for more. “Fine… Zylas, you are forbidden from revealing my past or anything about Queen to anyone except those I specifically designate. Speak of such matters only when no one else is listening. For now, that means Ainai, Carna, and…”

  I swallowed hard as an uneasy feeling bubbled up. “And Valia.”

  A cool, soft glow shimmered along the fur and fabric on her chest before fading into calm.

  “One last thing.” Zylas said once the air between us seemed to settle. She scrutinized me from head to toe, as if expecting a shift in my stance. “Who is Queen?”

  A cold aura slowly crept through the room, originating from where I sat. I know the answer, I’ve known for all I can remember.

  “She’s an… In terms you’d understand, she’s an Ancient Contract holder.” I spoke carefully, as I felt her watching carefully from within.

  “Quit the foreplay Daegon, you literally just bound me from most beings and I was already bound to not hurt you in any way possible. What’s her fucking name. I saw what happened when others glimpsed her; I’m not stupid enough to shout her name from the treetops.”

  “Well…” I paused, even mentally I stopped speaking her name. Or, at least fully. I coughed heavily, and felt a swelling in my throat as I placed my hand there.

  “A vampiric demoness to some, an enigmatic Primordial equivalent to the vile Adam to others. I was the first to choose, the first to be banished from Eden, and mother to kin free of tyrannical beliefs.” A pause held heavy in the air, with my nerves flaring from every small breath of air flowing across my skin. Across from me, Zylas, ever resolute, watched me intently, even as her fur stood on edge.

  “My name is Lilith, and you both will take that name to your graves.” Lilith… Lilith spoke, borrowing my tongue as if the name had always been etched there.

  My gaze darted to where Ainai had gone; now she was closer, kneeling on the opposite side of her shrine.

  “Lilith… Lilith… I do know your tales.” Ainai said softly, as though sifting through countless ancient tomes. “Rarely do worshippers visit my shrine when yours is nowhere to be found.”

  “The East has been far more gracious in my ways than the West.” Lilith replied, her voice imbued with an almost surreal air. Ainai’s calm, benevolent presence remained unchanged by the revelation. She simply sat there, deep in meditation.

  “I… don’t know your origin, but I understand the weight of what you are even without the name.” Zylas said coolly, her tone contemplative as she pondered the significance of Lilith’s identity. A low grumble escaped her as she rose. “That’s enough for me; I need to go shout at the meat-sacks before they think I’ve died somewhere.”

  “Bwe will be by shortly; you might want to head home and rest, Daegon. After today, I think we all need it.” Ainai offered softly, cracking an eye open and glancing at me.

  “Yeah… I think that’s fair…” I whispered.

  I slowly made my way out of Ainai’s room just as Bwe knocked. She recoiled and panicked briefly before realizing it was me. After a hurried, nervous exchange, we traded spots and closed the door behind her. Normally, the calm, quiet atmosphere of The Den would be eerie or unnerving, but with so many truths still churning in my mind, I was more amazed that I had found my way downstairs and to the front door.

  “Hey, tinsel-dick, just use the Portal. The pup’s already waiting for you.” Zylas’s voice rang out from somewhere behind me in her customary crude manner.

  “Right… Portal.” I said aloud, releasing my grip from the door. It took me a minute in the darkness, but eventually I reached the Portal and…

  “You look like you were thrashed by a Thunderbird… or maybe a Banshee.” Valia observed, her voice low and caring. Despite her concern, I could only chuckle at her remark.

  “I think you mean I look like shit.” I teased back, glancing up to see her leaning casually on the doorway between home and The Den.

  “Alright, you look like shit. Come on, this is about to close.” Valia cooed, a slight smile tugging at her lips. I slowly made my way through the doorway and back into the safety of my hovel. A few small, strategically placed candles burned softly—one by the sink, another on the table beside the cushioned couch, and a third on the floor across from it.

  “I… really just want to sleep.” I muttered as the door shut behind us and the metal bars slid back into place.

  “Not hungry?” Valia asked as she followed close behind, hinting at alternative plans.

  “No… Between reliving Seren’s betrayal, discovering that Arc accepted being a personal servant for Lilith, and Layre actually being allowed to live under a stricter contract… and if Ainai had followed her gut instinct, things might have been different for all of us… Oh, watching an entire town be heavily mutilated and—” I began in a weary tone before Valia placed a gentle hand on my shoulder, halting my slow progress as she stepped forward with concern.

  “Woah, wwwoooaaahhh there, Daegon. I get it—you’ve been through hell.” Valia said softly, her typically intense blue eyes offering a much-needed balm to my troubled mind. She paused, choosing her words carefully, almost bashfully. “Do you want to sleep… alone?”

  I hesitated, the weight of the day and the bitter residue of painful memories pressing down on me. “I… wouldn’t mind company tonight… if you don’t mind.” I finally replied, grateful that the enveloping darkness masked any hint of a blush. For tonight, despite the lingering aches that promised restless sleep for days or even weeks, I hoped to find a modicum of solace in shared warmth.

  “One step at a time." I muttered to myself, unaware that Valia had already settled beneath the blankets. “Uh… what are you doing?”

  “It’s my turn to be the pillow.” Valia spoke with such confidence and casual declaration, it left me momentarily speechless. With sluggish precision, I changed into lighter clothing from my stash on the other side of the couch. Within moments, I was enveloped by both Valia and the blankets, the soft fabric a cocoon against the chill and the weight of the day.

  “No funny business.” I warned, my words muffled by the plush fur that covered Valia’s skin. The fatigue from the long, relentless day weighed heavily on both my body and mind.

  “Not to worry, I’ll behave.” Valia purred with a gentle, rumbling cadence that blended with the steady beat of her heart, forming a lullaby that soothed my battered senses.

  We shifted together, settling into a perfectly nested position. The warmth of the blankets blended with the soft glow of the candles and the subtle aroma of incense that drifted through the room, soothing my weary senses. I found myself leaning closer, my fingers brushing along her fur as if to memorize its softness. I wrapped my arms around her with care, savoring the ethereal mix of strength and gentleness that she embodied.

  “Lilith, huh? I feel like I’ve heard that name before.” Valia said softly, her tone inquisitive as a clawed hand slowly caressed my head in slow, deliberate strokes of tender care. Her softs hands carefully pawed at my hair, as she slowly pushed most of it to the side.

  “Don’t tell a soul.” I mumbled, my voice low. “Last time someone did, she killed an entire village to keep it secret.”

  For a long, suspended moment, Valia’s hand stilled, and I could feel the intensity of her gaze lingering on me, as she came to terms with the silent promise and a wary warning all at once. The gentle glow of the candles and the subtle, aromatic wisps of incense mingled with the sound of her steady breathing, creating a cocoon of warmth and solace. In that suspended moment, as if the weight of the world were momentarily lifted, I allowed myself to sink into the comfort of her presence. Before I could glean any further meaning, my mind surrendered to the inevitable pull of sleep, drawing me into a deep, restorative slumber.