DING.
DING.
DING.
DING.
The sound pounded through Eli's skull, sharp and relentless. It wasn't just noise anymore—it was a hammer, a chisel carving at the edges of his sanity.
Every strike echoed louder than the last, driving needles into the soft parts of his brain.
It was maddening.
All he could see was the man in front of him.
The calm eyes staring back at him.
Kairo.
It was his fault.
Everything was his fault.
DING.
DING.
DING.
'It hurts. Everything hurts.'
Eli's thoughts spiraled, jagged, broken. His fingers clung to Kairo's throat, trembling, barely strong enough to press—but it was all he had.
Kairo's voice cut low, steady. "Eli, do not make me hurt you."
Hurt?
Eli almost laughed. He was already hurting. His body screamed with it—his ribs tight, his skin raw with cuts, blood slick down his arm. His chest was a cage squeezing tighter with every second.
'I'm already bleeding. Already in pain.'
But the voice didn't stop.
It dug deeper.
