Everywhere around me was drowned in a suffocating fog.
It wasn't just the air — it was inside me.Every sound felt distant. Every movement unreal.As if I were watching my own life through a cracked mirror.
With every word he spoke, the fear of death pulsed harder beneath my skin.Not loudly — but steadily. Like a second heartbeat that didn't belong to me.
I felt as though I was standing on the edge of something irreversible.One step forward — and there would be no return.
I turned my head slowly.
The blood spilling from Mike's abdomen crept across the ground, thick and dark.Too dark.
For a moment, I waited for him to move.To breathe.To curse me.
He didn't.
Guilt didn't fall over me — it wrapped around my throat.
"I can't…" My voice broke before the words fully formed."I can't. I'm too weak for this."
"If you want to forget everything… come with me."
His hand appeared in front of me.
I didn't take it immediately.
I stared at it.
A stranger's hand.Steady. Certain.As if he already knew the choice I would make.
Behind me lay blood.In front of me — escape.
I looked at Mike one last time.
If I stayed, I would drown.If I left… maybe I could pretend it never happened.
My fingers trembled before they finally closed around his.
The moment our skin touched, something inside me loosened — or maybe something broke.
He leaned closer, his breath brushing against my ear.
"Don't worry," he whispered. "I'll make it feel like a dream."
And we ran.
But even as we ran toward the gate, I felt it —a thread tying me to the place I was abandoning.
I didn't look back.
I was afraid that if I did, I wouldn't be able to leave.
When I opened my eyes again, warmth surrounded me.
A thick blanket.A soft bed.A hand wrapped firmly around my wrist.
For a second, I thought I had died.
He was sitting beside me, eyes closed, holding my hand as if anchoring me to the world.
His warmth calmed the trembling inside my chest.
Until yesterday returned.
The blood.Mike.My hands.
My head began to burn — not with fever, but with memory.
Breathing became sharp and uneven. Like I had been violently torn out of a beautiful dream and forced into something colder.
His grip tightened.
"So, you're awake?"
His voice cut through the chaos in my head.
He smiled.
Too gently.
He stood and pulled the curtains aside. Moonlight spilled into the room, pale and unforgiving.
"Where am I?"
"At one of my assistant's houses. Peaceful, isn't it?"
Peaceful.
My eyes drifted — and stopped.
A metal bar lay against the wall.
Something shifted inside me.
A boy appears from nowhere.Offers safety.Smiles like he knows me.
"Use me, Sora."
The words didn't sound kind.They sounded deliberate.
Something cracked.
The voice in my head — the one I used to beg for silence — grew quiet.
For once, it wasn't screaming.
It was waiting.
My hand moved before I consciously decided.
The metal bar was suddenly in my grip.
I walked toward him.
Not fast.Not frantic.
Just… certain.
If he wanted to use me — then I would show him what that meant.
The bar rose toward his throat.
But before I could swing—
The world flipped.
My feet left the ground.Air vanished from my lungs.
The next thing I knew, I was on the floor, my arm twisted painfully behind my back.
"A good choice, Sora."
His voice was calm. Almost amused.
"Why?" My breathing shook. "Why are you helping me? Nothing in this world is free."
"The first time I saw you," he said quietly, "I knew you weren't ordinary."
His grip loosened slightly, but he didn't let go.
"The way you moved. The way you looked at them."
He leaned closer.
"And the way you killed them."
My stomach twisted.
"I don't enjoy killing!" My voice rose. "I killed one person. And I wounded Mike."
"You're right," he said softly. "Killing someone you love must hurt."
The word love felt like a blade.
"You'll see him at night. Hear him in silence. Feel him in your hands."
He released me.
"But if you want, I can free you from that pain."
I stayed on the floor.
"What way?"
"Join my group."
Silence stretched between us.
"Why me?"
He crouched so we were eye level.
"Because we're the same."
His eyes didn't waver.
"We both want to escape. And we both carry a monster we pretend isn't there."
Monster.
My chest tightened.
I wanted to deny it.
But a memory flickered — the moment the knife sank into flesh… and the warmth that followed.
"What monster?" I whispered.
He extended his hand again.
"You don't have to lie to me."
This time, when I took his hand, I closed my eyes.
When I opened them—
I was standing on a dark road.
Cold wind brushed against my skin.
In front of me stood a man.
His eyes were wide. Terrified.
In my hands—
A knife.
The metal felt impossibly cold.
"Sora," his voice echoed somewhere behind me. "If you want to be yourself… do it."
My heart pounded.
This was the moment.
I could drop it.
I could walk away.
The man took a step back.
"Please—"
My grip tightened.
If drowning in guilt could erase Mike…If staining myself completely could silence the memory—
Then I would do it.
I moved.
Not running at first.
Walking.
Each step heavier than the last.
Until something snapped inside me.
And I lunged.
The blade slid into his abdomen.
Resistance.Warmth.A sound I will never forget.
Blood spread across my hands.
And then—
Relief.
Not horror.Not regret.
Relief.
A dark, consuming pleasure flooded through me.
In that moment, I understood.
I hadn't been fighting the monster.
I had been starving it.
And that was the night I sold half of myself to it—
And left behind the girl who was once afraid of blood.
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If you were in Sora's place… would you have made a different choice?