One heartbeat, he had a hand, the next, a stump gushed red, spraying the dirt in a frantic rhythm.
He didn’t cry out. Didn’t so much as twitch. His eyes stayed dull, mouth slack. For a moment, I thought maybe he hadn’t noticed.
Until he looked down and laughed. “You think you can harm me?” His breath stuttered, but still he said, “I don’t fear pain or death. Youmonster.”
Shame. That’s exactly what I offered.
I pressed the slick arrowhead to his face, trailing it along his cheek until blood welled, dripping into his mouth. His lips stayed parted, his face eerily calm, expectant. As if he wanted this. As if he was waiting for it.
Not fear. Not even defiance. Just… surrender.
“New question.” The stone turned in my hand, more red drawing up while I leaned in close. “Whatare you?”
His blood answered before he did, the scent of it striking us like a match. Not the serpent winding around his throat, but the one buried deeper—the master in my mind.
It purred, flooding my chest and my head tipped back, eyes rolling, as the feeling consumed me.
It was wicked, it was vile, and gods, it felt so fucking good.
The moment I surrendered, the thrill rippled outward, licking across my flesh. The forest dimmed, sounds collapsing into nothing as drums roared against all thoughts.
The only thing sharp in my vision was him, the heat fading fast from his body, the blood spilling too quick, too much.
“Death comes for us all,” he spoke. His mottled flesh had gone waxen, pallor settling in like frost. “Even itself. Evenyou.” A hollow crackle of laughter. “Soon, I hear.”
As if prophecy could rattle me.
Then he began chanting.
Not words for me, but the kind the dying spill when they think the gods are listening. Pleas for guidance. For light. For deliverance to the Aureveil.
But no gods ever come. They never extend their hands to the rotting. They never will.
I had always counted on that.
His voice cut off, as the snake climbed higher, scales kissing his throat.
Then he spoke again, louder, until the chant reshaped into a cadence no prayer should hold. This time he made certain I could hear.
“Deep... deep... deep it goes…”
His voice was gutted, rattling with blood.
“Running black within their soul. Innocence and purity must be traded, as a whole.” The snake coiled tighter. “For a monster lurks…” His breath hitched, wheezing. “…within them—” Another gasp. Another squeeze. “Not of soul. Or mind. Or blood.” The serpent constricted, ribs straining until I heard the crack. “But one who whispers—” His words broke. “—kindly, let me in and come undone.” Gasp. Constrict. Crack. “Deep… deep… deep it digs—” Another rib gave way with a sharp snap. “—laying claim within their mind. Until, finally, it’s all they see. And the darkness... marks them blind.”
Silence.
It wasn’t a song or poem. Not even a vow. But fate, twisted into a reminder. The words lingered, striking somewhere I had no shield for, prying open a seam in my chest I’d thought sealed.
His shadowed eyes lifted to mine, triumphant even as black blood poured over his grin. “She’s coming for you. Tick, tick, tick.” The words were forced between each strenuous breath. “Death remembers its debts, and it already told her where you sleep.”
My snake wound higher, claiming the last stretch of his throat.
He clawed, tore, fought. But my curse was untouchable.
His frantic motion caught nothing but mist, every desperate grab slipping through air. His eyes rolled back, a gurgle rattling from his throat as he convulsed.
Tighter.I clenched my fists and the serpent obeyed.
