LOVE WRITTEN IN BLOOD
Chapter 1 – The Arrival
The rain didn't stop, and neither did the darkness.
Damien Cross stepped out of the cab, his eyes locked on the mansion before him. The Haveli stood like a corpse—ancient, rotting, but somehow alive. Its broken windows watched him like hungry eyes.
His phone buzzed again. A message from an unknown number:
"Welcome home."
He'd never been here before. But his heart pounded like it remembered something his mind couldn't.
A flash of lightning revealed her.
Selena Vex—standing in the rain, barefoot, drenched, and staring straight at him.
"You're late," she said, her voice soft but dangerous.
Damien tried to speak, but her gaze pinned him in place.
"You don't remember me… but your soul does," she whispered, then turned and walked into the haveli without waiting.
The gate opened on its own. So did the front door.
Inside, candlelight danced on cracked walls. Shadows moved like they had minds of their own.
And far down the hallway, something... smiled.
Damien stepped in.
The door slammed shut behind him.
---
First Night
The air inside the haveli was heavy — thick like it carried the breath of centuries. Damien took a step forward, boots echoing on the cracked marble floor. Every candle flickered as if the house noticed him.
Selena walked ahead, her wet dress whispering across the floor. Her spine was straight, her movements too graceful to be normal. It was like she floated, guided by something unseen.
"You feel it too, don't you?" she asked without turning around.
Damien didn't answer. He didn't need to. His heart was racing, not from fear — but from something darker… something he couldn't name.
She led him to a long hallway lined with mirrors. But the reflections didn't match. In one mirror, he saw himself — but behind him stood a woman in black, her eyes bleeding shadows.
In another, his face was smiling… but he wasn't.
He turned to Selena. "What is this place?"
She looked over her shoulder, her lips curled in a faint smile. "It's where the truth undresses you."
Just then, a cold wind slammed through the hallway. The candles blew out, all at once. The silence that followed wasn't empty — it was watching.
From the end of the corridor, three figures appeared — slowly, as if pulled out from the walls.
Lucian. Raven. Jace.
Their faces looked… wrong. Twisted slightly. Like something had been wearing them for too long.
"They're already here," Selena whispered.
Damien's pulse spiked. He wanted to run. But the floor beneath him creaked—then cracked.
Before he could scream, it collapsed.
He fell.
Not into darkness.
Into heat.
Into breath.
Into arms that were not human.
Something caught him.
Something warm and wet and… breathing.
And then it spoke.
"You belong to me now."
---
The Touch Beneath
Damien gasped as soft hands gripped his chest — not clawing, not violent. Gentle. Tender. But wrong.
It was pitch black. Warm, wet walls pulsed around him like a living throat. He wasn't falling anymore… he was being held.
Whispers echoed in his ears, not outside — inside his head.
"Your heart is louder than your voice. We like that."
Fingers trailed down his spine — more than two. Too many.
He tried to move, but his body didn't respond. It wasn't fear that paralyzed him — it was want. A craving not his own, bleeding into his bones.
Then came her breath — hot against his ear.
Selena?
No.
Something wearing her voice.
"You opened the door, Damien. Now you must be tasted."
A tongue of flame licked his neck — not fire, but skin. Warm lips found his throat, pressed there like a lover's kiss. His pulse quickened, racing toward a dangerous edge.
And just when pleasure threatened to burn into madness—
Light.
He blinked, gasping, lying on the floor of a bedroom. The walls were stone. Old. Bleeding cracks.
Selena stood at the window, moonlight painting her in silver.
"You saw it," she said without turning. "The house doesn't touch everyone like that."
Damien sat up, dizzy. "What was that?"
She finally faced him.
"A welcome."
Her eyes were darker now. Deeper. Hungrier.
And when she smiled, her lips left a smear of red that wasn't lipstick.
The Blood Between Us
Lucian Graves arrived just before dawn.
He didn't knock. The gate opened before he could touch it. The haveli recognized him — not as a guest, but as something that once belonged here.
He stepped inside, his coat dripping with rain, his expression unreadable. Tall, lean, and hollow-eyed, Lucian carried silence like a second skin. But beneath that quiet... he burned.
He felt it immediately — the pull. The scent. The calling.
A sound drew him forward.
Laughter.
Not human.
Not joyful.
He followed it into the drawing room. There, sitting on the couch like it was his throne, was Jace Nightfall — one leg draped over the other, flipping a coin between his fingers.
"Oh," Jace said with a wicked grin, "another stray joins the circus."
Lucian didn't answer. His eyes scanned the room — the paintings, all of them wrong. Faces twisted mid-scream. Shadows painted in blood.
"You shouldn't have come here," Lucian muttered.
Jace stood up slowly. "And yet here I am. Same as you. Pulled here by something we pretend we don't believe in."
Behind them, the fireplace roared to life without a match.
And at the top of the stairs, Raven Alora stood barefoot, watching them both with eyes that hadn't blinked in minutes.
"The house likes you two," she said calmly. "You reek of secrets."
Lucian looked up at her. For a moment, his mask cracked.
He remembered her face.
From a dream.
Or maybe from a life he had already lost.
And in that moment… the walls pulsed again.
The house was awake.
And it was hungry.
Thirst
Damien woke to the scent of burning roses.
His chest was bare, slick with sweat, though the room was freezing. Moonlight cut through the cracked windows like blades. He sat up, breath shaky, every part of him aching with need — but not the kind he understood.
Selena sat at the edge of the bed, legs crossed, wearing a crimson robe that clung to her curves like blood-soaked silk. Her fingers were stained red. So were her lips.
"You're changing," she whispered, tracing a finger across his collarbone. "The house is inside you now."
Damien looked down. There was a mark on his chest — a black rose, burned into his skin. It pulsed faintly, like it was alive.
"What is this?" he breathed.
Selena leaned in, her lips brushing his ear.
"A taste. Of love. Of hunger. Of belonging."
Suddenly, the door burst open.
Lucian stood there, eyes wide — not with anger, but fear.
"She's feeding on you," he growled.
Damien stood, unsteady. "What are you talking about?"
Lucian walked in fast and grabbed Damien's wrist. His hand flinched from the mark.
"She marked you. That's how it begins. First the hunger. Then the craving. Then…"
"Then what?" Damien asked.
Lucian's voice lowered.
"Then you forget who you were."
Selena stood slowly, her smile deadly. "He doesn't need to remember. He just needs to feel."
And as the tension crackled like fire between them, the mirror behind them cracked—without a touch.
A face inside smiled.
It was Damien.
But it had no eyes.
Raven's Secret
Raven Alora didn't sleep.
She hadn't in years.
While the others argued, touched, hunted or craved, she stood alone in the west wing — the one no one entered. Dust covered everything except the mirror at the end of the hall.
Because it didn't allow dust.
It breathed.
She stood before it now, barefoot, long black hair draped over her shoulders. Her reflection didn't match her.
In the mirror, she was younger. Bleeding from the mouth. Eyes black. Smiling.
"You're close," she whispered to her reflection. "I can feel you moving again."
The mirror rippled like water. A voice hissed from inside:
"One must die for me to rise. One who bleeds with love."
She nodded once.
"I know. I'm choosing."
Behind her, footsteps.
Jace.
"Thought I'd find you here," he said casually, tossing a coin up and catching it. "Talking to ghosts again, or just admiring yourself?"
She turned slowly, her eyes colder than stone.
"I'm remembering," she said. "And waiting for the blood to choose itself."
Jace raised an eyebrow. "That sounds very murdery."
She walked toward him. Her steps were soft, but her presence felt heavy — like gravity bent for her.
"You flirt with everything, Jace. But do you ever ask what flirts back?"
Jace opened his mouth — and stopped.
Because behind her, in the mirror…
…wasn't Raven.
It was something wearing her skin, smiling at him.
And its mouth was full of teeth.
The House Loves You
Damien ran.
Down the hallway that kept stretching, growing longer with every step. The walls throbbed like veins. The doors whispered his name — not just once, but again and again, moaning it like a lover.
"Damien... Damien... come back to bed..."
He stopped.
He wasn't alone.
Selena stood in the hallway now, glowing with candlelight that flickered from nowhere. Her robe had slipped off one shoulder. Her skin shimmered like moonlight on a blade.
"Why are you running from me?" she asked.
"I'm not running from you," Damien gasped. "I'm running from what you're turning me into."
She tilted her head, amused. "We're not turning you into anything. The house is only revealing what you really are."
He backed away.
And then the walls moved.
Not metaphorically — literally. The house breathed. The hallway bent like a spine, closing behind him, trapping him. Selena didn't flinch.
"The house doesn't trap people it doesn't love," she said.
Then she walked toward him — slow, seductive. Her fingers brushed his cheek.
"Don't you feel it, Damien? The warmth in your blood? That heat in your stomach? That ache in your soul?"
He did.
He hated how much he did.
But then, from the ceiling above, red water dripped — no, not water.
Blood.
It landed on Damien's mark. It sizzled.
He screamed.
And the house laughed.
Selena held him as he trembled.
"You belong here now," she whispered, pressing her lips to his ear. "This place doesn't want your body. It wants your heart."
The floor pulsed beneath them.
And somewhere, the house whispered:
"I love you, Damien."
A Kiss Full of Lies
Raven sat alone in the music room, playing the old piano with broken keys. The melody she played wasn't written anywhere. It had come to her in dreams — or maybe nightmares. She didn't remember which anymore.
Lucian entered quietly, leaning against the doorframe.
"You still play like you're trying to remember something you don't want to," he said.
Raven didn't look at him. "That's because I am."
Lucian walked closer. The room smelled of dust and roses. He stopped beside her, eyes fixed on the piano, not her.
"I saw Damien," he said. "The house is getting inside him. Deeper than it ever got into me. Or you."
Raven's fingers paused on the keys. "Because he didn't resist."
Lucian's voice lowered. "Or maybe he doesn't want to."
She finally turned to face him. Their eyes met — and for a second, the air thickened with something dangerous.
Not love.
Not hate.
Memory.
"You still believe you can save him?" Raven asked softly.
"I still believe I can stop you," he replied.
Silence.
Then Raven stood, slowly, stepping into his space. So close her breath tickled his jaw. Her lips inches from his.
"You still think I'm the villain?"
Lucian didn't move. "You tell me."
She kissed him.
Not gently. Not lovingly.
It was sharp. Deep. Like a cut made with velvet.
And when she pulled back, blood dripped from his lip.
"You taste like guilt," she whispered. "Still trying to be the hero in a house that eats them."
And then she was gone — vanished into the walls like smoke.
Lucian stood alone, the piano still echoing its ghostly melody.
But behind him…
the mirror smiled.
Don't Touch Her
Damien found them in the garden.
Jace and Selena.
She was laughing — not sweetly, but with something darker behind her eyes. Jace stood too close, spinning his silver coin across his knuckles like he didn't care about the world burning.
But Damien cared.
His blood boiled when he saw Jace's fingers trail across Selena's wrist. It wasn't the touch that burned him — it was how she let it happen.
Like she wanted him to see.
"Get your hand off her," Damien said, stepping into the moonlight.
Jace smirked without looking at him. "Relax, lover boy. She's not yours."
Selena tilted her head. "Isn't he cute when he's jealous?"
"I'm not jealous," Damien growled.
Jace turned, slow and deadly. "Then what are you? A guest? A ghost? A toy the house is playing with?"
Selena moved between them, her touch cold against Damien's chest. "Don't fight here. The garden listens."
"The garden listens?" Damien snapped. "Everything here listens. Watches. Touches. And you let it."
Jace stepped closer, eye to eye. "Careful, Damien. The house doesn't like screaming. It likes silence. The kind that comes after… bleeding."
Selena looked between them, smiling faintly.
"Maybe you both want to bleed for me," she whispered.
The plants around them moved — slow vines creeping across the ground like they heard her.
Something sharp bloomed in the roses.
Damien stepped back. "What are you doing to us?"
Selena leaned in, lips brushing his ear.
"I'm not doing anything. The house is."
And behind her, in the vines, the silver coin dropped to the ground.
It didn't bounce.
It sank.
Like the earth was swallowing it whole.
The Room That Remembers
The door was locked.
It always had been.
But tonight, it opened.
Damien didn't know why he walked down that hall, barefoot, shirtless, the mark on his chest burning like fire. The house whispered directions into his blood. His fingers moved without his mind.
He stopped in front of the last door on the third floor — carved with strange symbols, humming softly.
The handle was warm.
He pushed.
Inside, the air was heavy. Dustless. Cold like a memory.
A cradle sat in the center of the room.
Covered in cobwebs.
Damien stepped closer. He didn't know why his hands were shaking. Or why the cradle felt… familiar.
Then he saw it — a photograph, black-and-white, framed and faded.
A woman holding a baby.
The woman looked like Selena.
But the baby...
Damien stared.
It was him.
Same eyes. Same mark. Same face.
His breath caught.
"No," he whispered.
Behind him, the door slammed shut.
Selena's voice rose in the dark, low and broken.
"You were born here, Damien. You left… but you came back. They always come back."
The mirror on the wall flickered.
Reflections twisted.
His face—then his face screaming—then his face as a child, crying in the cradle.
"I don't remember this," he said, backing away.
"You weren't supposed to," Selena whispered, stepping out of the shadows. "The house hid the truth. Until it decided… you were ready."
Damien collapsed to his knees, clutching his head.
And from the walls, voices began to chant:
"He is ours.
He is blood.
He is home."
The cradle began to rock.
Empty.
Or maybe not.
Raven Turns
Raven stood at the altar beneath the house.
Yes, beneath. Far below the cellar, deeper than any floor should exist. There was no map for this place. No light. Only a red glow pulsing from the walls like a heartbeat.
She wasn't alone.
Jace stood beside her, arms crossed, silver coin gone, face unreadable.
"You're sure about this?" he asked.
Raven nodded. "The house doesn't want Damien to survive. It wants him to become."
"And you're helping it now?" Jace's voice was cold.
Raven turned, eyes shining like wet obsidian. "We've all made deals, haven't we? Mine just promises I don't die screaming."
The altar cracked as her blood dripped onto it — one cut across her palm.
The stone drank it.
Symbols on the floor lit up.
"You were supposed to help him," Jace muttered.
"I was supposed to watch," Raven said. "That's all any of us were ever meant to do."
Footsteps.
Selena appeared from the dark, barefoot, smiling.
"You're ready," she said.
Jace stepped back. "This is wrong. You're playing with him."
Raven raised a brow. "And you weren't?"
Selena offered her hand.
Raven took it.
Their fingers laced like vines.
And in the distance, high above, Damien screamed — not from pain, but from remembrance.
Jace turned away. "You've made your choice."
But before he could vanish, Raven whispered:
"I didn't choose the house. The house chose me."
And then she kissed Selena.
Not for show.
Not for power.
For hunger.
And the walls shivered in pleasure.
Becoming
Damien knelt on the cold marble floor, the cradle still rocking behind him.
He couldn't breathe.
Not from fear — from truth.
He wasn't just in the house.
He was part of it.
His mark pulsed like a heartbeat not his own, and whispers crawled into his ears from the cracks in the walls.
"Take it back."
"Let it in."
"Stop pretending you're human."
He gritted his teeth, blood dripping from his nose.
"No," he hissed. "I am not yours."
The house laughed.
The chandelier above him swung wildly, glass raining down like sharp stars. The floor cracked beneath his knees, revealing blood-veins running through the stone.
And in the mirror across the room… his reflection stood still.
Unmoving.
Smiling.
Its eyes black.
"Stop looking at me!" Damien shouted, picking up a broken shard and flinging it at the mirror.
It shattered.
But the smile remained.
Suddenly — flash — he saw them all.
Selena on her knees, chanting in a tongue older than language.
Raven, eyes rolled back, veins glowing red.
Jace, whispering to something inside the garden that no longer had a face.
Lucian… standing in fire.
All connected.
All waiting.
And he…
He stood.
And something inside him broke open.
The mark on his chest burst into flame — not burning flesh, but memory. He saw his mother. Heard her scream. Saw himself, a baby, marked before breath. Promised to the house.
Bred to be its heir.
"No more," he growled.
The air bent around him.
Glass reformed in midair.
Shadows backed away.
And the house paused.
Damien clenched his fists.
"If I'm yours… then I get to rewrite the rules."
Let It Burn
Lightning tore through the sky as Damien walked down the grand staircase, barefoot, shirtless, the mark on his chest glowing like fire trapped under skin.
The house trembled.
Every step echoed like a warning.
Selena waited at the bottom, wrapped in black silk, hair wild, eyes sharp with power and pride.
"You've changed," she whispered.
Damien didn't slow.
"I remembered," he said. "You fed me lies. The house fed me pain. Now I'm feeding it back."
She smiled, but there was tension in her jaw. For the first time, fear touched her face.
"You can't fight what made you," she said.
"Maybe not," he answered. "But I can burn with it."
He raised his hand.
The chandeliers exploded. The walls bled red. The air hissed.
The house screamed.
From the east wing, Raven staggered in, eyes wide. "What did you do?"
Damien didn't look at her. "I woke up."
The mirror beside them cracked — and out stepped his reflection.
Not broken.
Not possessed.
But complete.
It nodded at him.
"You're ready," it said.
Jace appeared behind him, knife in hand, chest heaving. "Damien, stop! If you destroy the house, we all die."
Damien turned, slowly.
"I'm not destroying it," he said, voice low. "I'm becoming something it fears."
He stepped into the center of the room — flames licking the floor, wind howling through shattered windows.
"Let it burn," he whispered.
And the house obeyed.
The Blood Price
The fire didn't spread like normal fire.
It slithered.
It chose.
Rooms Damien had never seen before folded in on themselves. Portraits screamed. Doors melted. The house was trying to rebuild while he tore it apart.
And in the middle of it all…
Raven stood in the chapel.
Alone.
Waiting.
When Damien entered, sword of light in one hand, mark glowing like it might split his skin — she didn't move.
"You're going to kill me," she said, voice soft.
"No," he replied. "I'm going to end this. You can walk away."
She laughed. Bitter. Beautiful. "There's nowhere to walk to. We belong here, Damien. You and I were born for this."
He stepped closer. "That's what they wanted us to believe."
She stepped off the altar, barefoot. Her black dress rippled like shadow. Tears streamed down her cheeks, but her smile stayed sharp.
"I loved you once," she said.
"I still do," Damien whispered.
Then she reached into her chest.
And ripped out her own heart.
It glowed black-red, pulsing in her palm like a curse.
"This is the house's core," she said, staggering. "It grew inside me. They fed it with my dreams. My blood. My hope."
Damien froze. "Raven—"
She stepped into his arms, pressing the heart against his chest.
"You want to kill the house?" she whispered. "Then take me with it."
The moment the heart touched his mark — light exploded.
Screams echoed across every wall.
The house howled, like a beast losing its soul.
And Raven smiled with blood on her lips.
"I chose you," she whispered.
Then collapsed.
The One Below
Silence.
Not peace — just the absence of screaming.
Raven's body lay still, cradled in Damien's arms. Her heart had vanished, absorbed by the mark on his chest, which now pulsed with a strange new rhythm. Not his. Not the house's.
Something older.
The walls around him had stopped bleeding. The mirrors no longer showed twisted reflections.
The house was dying.
But deep below — something stirred.
A presence.
A voice without a mouth. A name no tongue could hold. It crept through the cracks in the foundation like rot, ancient and alive.
Damien stood.
"Selena," he said softly.
She appeared from the smoke, face pale, dress torn, eyes wide.
"You felt it too," she whispered. "Didn't you?"
Damien nodded. "What we called 'the house'… was never just walls and wood. It was a prison."
"For what?" she asked.
The floor beneath them rumbled.
Then cracked.
A black chasm opened in the center of the chapel, stretching down into a pit so deep no echo returned.
And from below… a hand rose.
Long. Gray. With fingers like bones carved from smoke.
Jace stumbled into the room, blood on his hands, eyes panicked. "We have to go — now."
But Damien didn't move.
He stared at the hand reaching from the pit.
And whispered, "It's not trying to escape…"
Selena grabbed his arm. "Then what is it doing?"
Damien's voice shook.
"It's reaching for me."
Her Eyes in the Dark
The hand stayed frozen midair.
Waiting.
It didn't grab. It didn't claw. It offered.
And Damien… stepped closer.
"Don't," Jace warned. "Whatever it is, it doesn't want to help you — it wants to wear you."
Selena didn't speak. She was staring into the pit — eyes wide, skin pale, breath caught like something was crawling up her throat.
Then she whispered, barely audible:
"…I see her."
Damien spun to her. "What?"
"Raven," she murmured. "She's in there."
The pit responded.
A low, ancient voice vibrated the walls, shaking loose stones and memory.
"You carry her heart.
Her sacrifice woke the gate.
But love always leaves something behind…"
From the shadows of the pit, a face appeared.
Not a demon.
Not a god.
But Raven.
Eyes black. Hair drifting like smoke. Skin flickering between ash and moonlight.
"Damien…" she said, voice echoing from a thousand mouths.
"Raven?" he whispered, stepping closer.
Her head tilted. "I gave you my heart. Now… give me your soul."
Selena screamed.
The hand lunged.
Damien didn't run.
Instead, he reached out.
And touched it.
The world exploded into white.
---
He awoke on a floor that wasn't there before.
Alone.
No fire.
No house.
No Raven.
Only a single door, glowing with blood-red light.
And a message carved into the wood:
"To save her…
You must become her."
Through the Red Door
Damien touched the handle.
It was warm.
Alive.
It pulsed once, like a heartbeat — and then the door opened on its own.
No creak. No scream. Just a quiet hiss, like a thousand whispers exhaling at once.
He stepped through.
Darkness swallowed him.
But not empty darkness — it moved. Like it was watching. Like it remembered him.
Then… light.
A dim red glow revealed a hall of mirrors. Endless. Stretching out in every direction.
Each mirror showed something different.
In one, Damien was still a child, screaming in his crib.
In another, he was Raven — blood on his lips, flame in his eyes.
And in the third… he wasn't human at all.
He stepped forward.
The mirrors cracked as he passed, shards falling like dead stars.
He didn't stop.
At the end of the hall stood a throne made of bone and shadow — and on it sat Raven.
But not his Raven.
This Raven wore a crown of teeth. Her eyes were galaxies. Her skin dripped with time itself.
She smiled when she saw him.
"You came," she said.
Damien's voice was a whisper. "What… are you?"
She stood. "What you will be."
He backed away. "I didn't come to become a god."
She stepped down from the throne.
"You came to save me," she said, pressing a hand to his chest, where her heart still beat inside him. "So you'll have to replace me."
Behind him, the mirrors shattered all at once.
And thousands of whispers chanted:
"Take the throne.
End the house.
Or let the world rot."
Raven kissed him.
And the throne lit up.
Sit or Burn
The throne called to him.
Each step Damien took toward it felt like gravity turned sideways — pulling his thoughts apart, stretching his memories into whispers.
Behind him, Raven — or what was left of her — smiled with tears made of stars. Her voice echoed with every version of her he'd ever loved, every lie she told wrapped in truth.
"You sit… the house dies. The world forgets. I vanish."
Damien clenched his fists. "Then why offer it?"
She touched her chest — or rather, his, where her heart still beat inside him.
"Because even gods miss home."
He turned to the throne.
It pulsed red — a seat forged from every soul the house had ever claimed.
One sit, and it would all end.
But something else stirred behind him.
A scream.
Not Raven.
Selena.
She was here.
Bursting through the mirror like shattered lightning, blood on her hands, fire in her eyes.
"Don't sit!" she cried. "It's not a throne — it's a trap!"
Damien froze.
"What?"
She pointed at Raven, breathing hard. "She doesn't want to vanish. She wants to anchor herself inside you. Sit, and she stays — not as a goddess, but as a parasite."
Raven's smile didn't fade.
She just whispered, "I never lied. I just never promised I'd let go."
Damien looked between them.
Raven. Selena.
The past. The possible.
Then…
He turned away from the throne.
And lit a match.
One flame.
Held steady in his palm.
"Then we all burn," he said.
And dropped it.
---
Flames erupted.
The throne screamed.
Raven screamed.
And Damien…?
He smiled.
Ashes Don't Lie
The fire didn't consume.
It cleansed.
Raven's scream shattered mirrors across realms, echoing through dimensions that had no names. The throne cracked, folding in on itself like a dying star.
And Damien—
He fell.
Not through space. Not through time.
Through memory.
He saw his mother whispering secrets over his crib.
He saw Raven before she was chosen — laughing in the sun.
He saw himself.
Alone.
Always alone.
Until now.
---
When Damien opened his eyes, he was lying in what used to be the chapel.
No flames.
No throne.
No Raven.
Only ashes.
And Selena, kneeling beside him, blood on her face, hand on his chest.
"You're alive," she whispered, voice trembling.
He tried to speak — couldn't.
Tears fell down her cheeks. "I thought I lost you too."
He reached up, brushing a streak of ash from her face. "Raven?"
Selena looked away. "Gone."
The mark on his chest?
Still there.
But quiet.
Still.
Dead.
Or sleeping.
He sat up slowly, every bone heavy.
The house was gone. Not ruined — just… not there anymore. Where walls once stood, there was now open sky.
Freedom.
But it felt like a funeral.
Selena helped him to his feet.
They stood together in silence.
And then she whispered:
"What now?"
Damien looked to the horizon, where black clouds were beginning to fade.
"I don't know," he said. "But we're not in the house anymore."
And somewhere, far below, buried in the last ember of shadow—
A single heartbeat pulsed.
The Quiet Before
Three days passed.
No monsters.
No screams.
Just sky.
Selena and Damien found shelter in what remained of the east garden — overgrown, haunted by silence, but real.
For the first time in their lives, they slept without fear.
The mark on Damien's chest had stopped glowing. It looked like a scar now — jagged, deep, but silent. And yet… he still felt watched. Not hunted. Just… noticed.
Selena sat beside a cracked fountain, sketching in the dirt with a stick.
"I keep waiting," she said.
"For what?" Damien asked.
"For something to come crawling out of the dark," she replied, not looking up. "A claw. A whisper. A memory."
He nodded. "Me too."
She finally looked up. "Do you regret it? Burning the throne?"
Damien thought for a long time.
"No. I just regret that Raven never got the chance to change."
Selena reached out and squeezed his hand.
"I think she did," she said. "She chose you. That was change enough."
They sat in silence.
Wind moved through the dead trees like forgotten songs.
Then—
A sound.
Soft. Wet. Wrong.
Like something crawling.
Selena stood instantly, eyes sharp. "Tell me you heard that."
Damien nodded, heart tightening. "I did."
From the broken soil behind the fountain… a shape began to rise.
Not tall.
Not monstrous.
But familiar.
It was Jace.
Only his eyes were gone.
And he was whispering Raven's name.
Hollow Eyes, Heavy Lies
Jace stood in the garden, barefoot, shirt torn, lips cracked.
His eyes?
Gone.
Empty sockets stared through Damien like glass windows into a storm.
Selena stepped forward, trembling. "Jace…?"
His mouth twitched.
And then, softly — too softly — he spoke:
"She's still singing."
Damien moved between them, protective. "You're not him. Jace died when the house fell."
The thing that looked like Jace tilted its head.
"She didn't die," it murmured. "She woke up. In me."
The ground pulsed.
Every breath of wind felt heavier, soaked in whispers.
Selena backed away, whispering to Damien, "What if the house didn't end… it transplanted?"
Damien stared at Jace — no, the thing wearing him.
"You're not Raven," he said. "She burned. She gave me her heart. I watched her fade."
The creature smiled.
"Then who do you think gave it back?"
Before they could speak, Jace's body began to tremble violently.
Bones shifted.
His back arched.
And from his mouth, a scream burst out — not human, not hellish.
Just wrong.
It shook the garden, shattered the trees, turned birds to ash mid-air.
Selena collapsed to her knees, blood from her ears.
Damien didn't run.
He stepped forward.
Face to face with the echo of a woman he loved — now living in the hollow shell of his oldest friend.
"If you're still her…" he whispered, "then listen to me."
But she didn't.
The body lunged.
And everything went black.
Between the Breaths
Blackness.
Not death.
Not sleep.
Just… waiting.
Damien floated in silence, as if the world had stopped breathing. No sound. No pain. No time.
Then — her voice.
"Damien."
He opened his eyes.
He was in the ballroom again. But it wasn't burned. It wasn't twisted. It was beautiful, just like the first time he'd seen it.
And there she was.
Raven.
Wearing the same midnight dress. Barefoot. Pale. But soft. Real.
"I didn't want this," she said.
Damien's throat burned with emotion. "Then why did you come back?"
"I didn't," she said, stepping closer. "It did. The house needed a vessel. Jace was weak. So it carved me into what it needed… and left me behind."
He reached for her.
She pulled away. "Don't. This isn't safe. Even here, it listens."
He looked around. The mirrors lining the ballroom began to crack. One by one.
"Tell me how to stop it," he begged. "For real this time."
She stepped closer again. This time, she let him hold her hands.
"You have to do what I couldn't," she whispered. "Not burn the house. Not kill the vessel. But kill the song."
"The song?" he asked.
She nodded. "The melody that weaves the house into minds. It lives in the heart you carry."
Damien looked down at his chest.
The mark… was glowing again.
"I don't want to lose you," he said, voice trembling.
"You already did," she said, with a soft smile. "Now save what's left."
She kissed his forehead.
And the ballroom shattered.
---
Damien woke up choking on ash, pain stabbing his ribs.
Selena knelt over him, eyes wide.
"You're back," she whispered. "Jace… it's still in him."
Damien stood slowly.
"No," he said. "It's in me. And we end it now."
The Song That Binds
Damien stood, the weight of Raven's heart pulsing within his chest. The garden lay in ruins, the remnants of the house whispering secrets through the wind.
Selena approached, her eyes reflecting both fear and determination. "The melody... it's still here," she murmured.
Damien nodded. "It's not just in the house or in Jace. It's in me."
A distant hum resonated, growing louder with each heartbeat. The song was ancient, woven into the very fabric of their reality.
Suddenly, Jace appeared, his form twisted, eyes void of light. "You can't escape it," he hissed. "The song is eternal."
Damien stepped forward, confronting the embodiment of the house's will. "Then I'll rewrite it."
He closed his eyes, focusing on the rhythm within. Drawing upon memories, love, and pain, he began to hum a new tune—a counter-melody.
The air vibrated, the oppressive song faltering. Jace screamed, his form unraveling.
Selena joined in, her voice harmonizing with Damien's. Together, they sang a lullaby of hope and endings.
The ground trembled, the sky cracked, and the song that had bound them for so long shattered.
Silence.
Then, a gentle breeze.
Damien opened his eyes. The garden was whole, vibrant. Jace lay peacefully, a faint smile on his lips.
Selena whispered, "We did it."
Damien nodded, feeling the weight lift. "The song is over."
The Final Thread
---
The world was quiet.
Not peaceful—just waiting.
Damien stood at the edge of the broken garden, where the soil still pulsed with echoes of the house. The sky above was a dull gray, as if mourning the battles fought beneath it.
Selena approached, her steps hesitant. "It's not over, is it?"
He shook his head. "No. The song may be silenced, but its remnants linger."
From the shadows, a figure emerged—Jace. Or what was left of him. His eyes, once void, now shimmered with a faint light.
"I remember," he whispered. "The pain, the control. But also... her. Raven."
Damien stepped forward. "She's gone, Jace. Truly gone."
Jace nodded slowly. "Then it's time I go too."
Before either could react, Jace plunged a dagger into his own chest. Light burst forth, illuminating the garden, the sky, the world.
When the brilliance faded, Jace's body was gone. In its place, a single black feather floated down, landing gently in Damien's hand.
Selena touched his shoulder. "What now?"
He looked at the feather, then at the horizon. "Now, we rebuild. Not just the world, but ourselves."
Embers of a New Dawn
---
The sun rose, casting golden hues over the land. The remnants of the house had vanished, leaving fertile ground in their wake.
Damien and Selena stood side by side, watching as new life began to sprout from the earth.
"Do you think the world will remember?" she asked.
He smiled softly. "Perhaps not the details. But the essence—the sacrifice, the love, the loss—it lingers."
She took his hand. "And us?"
He turned to her, eyes filled with determination. "We'll carry their memories, their stories. And ensure that the darkness never returns."
As they walked away from the past, the black feather in Damien's hand dissolved into the wind, its essence merging with the world, a silent guardian watching over the new dawn.