STORMHAVEN CITY
The city was still quite noisy as Eden, Zara’s uncle, led a cloaked man hurriedly through the narrow stone alleyway.
After so ti, they reached a small hut that sat alone on the edge of the forest. Eden’s hand trembled slightly as he knocked, his knuckles soft against the wood. "Zara, child... I am back," he murmured, forcing steadiness into his voice. He didn’t wait long—his hand closed around the handle, and he pushed the door open.
When Eden stepped inside, the room was already smothered in shadow, lit only by the lonely torch burning against the left wall. Its glow cast long, shivering shapes across the stone. On the bed lay soone—no, sothing—still and waiting.
At first glance it looked like a woman. But the longer Eden’s eyes adjusted, the harder his heart pounded. Skin stretched pale and cracked over sharp bones. Fingers curled into claws, black and curved like daggers. Lips split, darkened, curling back around teeth that glead too brightly in the flickering light. Her tangled hair spilled across the pillow like living shadows. And her eyes—those eyes—two burning coals locked onto him, hollow and rciless, squeezing his chest tight.
Eden’s breath caught. Because behind the horror, behind the ruin, he knew that face. It was Zara. His niece.
Over the past weeks he had watched her slipping away, her soul eaten by bitterness, by her obsession, by the quiet evil she had let fester in her heart. He had tried—God, he had tried. Words, prayers, charms, even tears. But nothing reached her. And so, helpless, he had turned to the only root left: the origin of all curses. The demon now standing in her room.
Zara lay motionless on the bed, but her gaze never wavered. The demon towered over her, its presence filling every corner of the room.
The torchlight caught it in fragnts as the cloak fell from its shoulders—jagged horns curling back from its skull, skin the color of charred ash split with glowing fissures, like cracks in volcanic stone. Its limbs were stretched too long, joints bending the wrong way, muscles shifting as though sothing inside clawed to get out. The stench of sulfur and iron rolled off it in waves, choking the air.
Its mouth was a nightmare: rows of uneven teeth layered like a shark’s, gums blackened and dripping with tar, a tongue twitching like a serpent tasting the air.
The eyes weren’t rely red—they were pits of molten hate, burning with a light not born of this world. Each blink pulled the shadows closer, shrinking the room smaller and smaller, as if Eden himself was being pushed out of existence.
Claws—obsidian hooks—dragged across the stone floor, leaving sparks hissing into the torchlight. It wasn’t moving in haste. It didn’t need to.
And as it lood above Zara, the demon grinned. The grin was too wide, stretching until skin cracked at the corners, blood beading black and thick. It didn’t just watch her. It claid her.
Eden lingered at the threshold longer than he should have. His hand pressed against the cold wood of the door, his chest tight. He had tried—tried until his voice broke, until prayers turned to curses—but nothing he said could sway her. Zara’s mind was already lost to the hunger in her heart.
"Are you sure you want to do this, Zara?" His voice cracked, low and desperate. "If you carry on with this ritual, you won’t be able to co back."
She didn’t look at him. Her eyes, once bright, were fixed solely on the thing crouched at the edge of her bed. The demon’s grin widened at her silence, the faint torchlight dancing across its teeth.
When Zara finally spoke, her voice was no longer her own. It ca rasped, hollow, with sothing darker echoing underneath. "He won’t love anymore... if he sees like this."
Eden’s throat burned. "This isn’t about Kian. This is about you. If you do it, you lose your ability to ever be a mother in this lifeti. Do you understand that?"
Her lips curved, trembling but firm. "I would do it in a hundred lifetis... if it ans Kian will love in just one."
The words sank into the stone like poison. Eden’s heart gave a final, helpless lurch. He shook his head, eyes burning with grief, and stepped away. The lock slid into place with a dull, rciless click. He could not watch what ca next. He could only pray—though he already knew prayer was useless here.
Inside, the air shifted.
The torch sputtered, shadows lengthening like black fingers crawling across the walls. The demon moved, slow, deliberate, towering over Zara as she lay motionless on the bed. Its claws extended, curling around her wrists and pressing them down against the mattress. The iron grip forced her arms above her head, pinning her as though she were nothing more than prey.
Her chest rose sharply, a gasp tearing from her throat. The heat of its power poured into her veins, searing through her body like fire and smoke. The pressure was unbearable—her bones felt ready to snap, her skin stretched too thin to contain the force that surged into her.
Tears gathered at the corners of her eyes, slipping hot down her cheeks, but her gaze never wavered. She wanted this.
The demon bent lower, its face inches from hers, its breath a rancid heat that filled her lungs. Its smile split wider than any human mouth could, jagged teeth glinting as if eager to devour her whole.
Her voice ca out in a broken whisper, cracked with pain, but filled with devotion. "For Kian... always."
The walls seed to shudder with her words. The torch nearly died, drowning the room in almost-complete darkness.
The demon pressed closer, its power flooding into her, invading every corner of her being. Zara’s back arched violently against the bed, her body straining as if caught between agony and surrender. A scream ripped from her throat, raw and terrible, echoing off the stone until it no longer sounded human.
And then—silence.
Only the sound of quiet sobbing, muffled against the sheets. Only the weight of shadows pressing down.
When the torchlight finally steadied, Zara lay trembling, her body broken open by more than just pain. Her eyes were wide, hollow, yet burning with sothing new. The demon’s grin lingered above her, satisfied, as though it had carved its claim into her very soul.
That night, Zara gave herself to it completely.
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