The hours after the leader's visit crawled like insects under Emily's skin. She slumped in the chains, wrists swollen, her throat raw from silent sobs. Every sound outside her cell, the scrape of footsteps, the growl of voices, the sudden eruptions of laughter, made her jolt in fear, thinking they were coming back for her, but no one came.
Only the silence, pressing down harder than the stone walls.
At some point, exhaustion dragged her into a shallow haze, her head nodding forward, but the sound of iron unlocking jolted her awake instantly. Her breath caught, her body stiffened against the chains.
The door creaked open.
A man slipped inside, closing the door swiftly behind him. He wasn't dressed like the others. No cloak of authority, no gleaming ornaments of rank. His armor was plain, battered, streaked with the grime of work. A soldier look like. His dark hair fell loose around his sharp features, his eyes shadowed but alert, moving quickly over her as if making sure she was still whole.
Emily recoiled anyway, her chains clattering as she pressed back against the wall. "Stay away," she hissed, her voice hoarse.
He lifted both hands slowly, palms open in a gesture of peace. His voice was quiet, lower than the others, careful. "I'm not here to hurt you."
She laughed a broken, sharp sound. "That's what you all say before you—" Her words cracked before she could finish. She couldn't bring herself to repeat the images burned into her mind: Kimberly's scream, Dylan's blood on the ground, Louis's silence.
The soldier's gaze flickered, pained for the briefest moment, but he didn't step closer. "You don't belong here," he said. "If they find you alive, they'll tear you apart. Unless…" His jaw clenched, as if the words tasted dangerous. "…someone keeps you hidden."
Emily's stomach tightened. Her heart hammered against her ribs, too loud, too frantic. She shook her head, trembling. "Why would you do that? Why help me?"
He hesitated, then spoke with measured weight. "Because you don't deserve their hunger. And because I've seen enough to know that what's coming will destroy you if you're left alone."
His eyes locked on hers, steady, almost too steady. "My name is Breckt. Breckt Rezcox."
Emily froze. The name hung heavy in the air, foreign yet carved with sincerity. She searched his face for deceit, for cruelty hidden behind false kindness, but all she saw was tension. A man carrying secrets he shouldn't be speaking aloud.
Still, her distrust boiled. "If you really wanted to help, you'd let me go."
His expression hardened, almost grim. "If I open those doors now, they'll scent you before you reach the tree line. You wouldn't last an hour. The only chance you have is to wait until the solar moon. One month from now. On that night, their hunger turns inward. They will not see you slip away."
Emily's chest constricted. A month. A whole month trapped in this hell, surrounded by monsters that had slaughtered her friends, monsters who saw her as prey.
Her voice cracked with disbelief. "You expect me to trust you? To sit here and wait for what? A chance that you might not betray me?"
Breckt stepped closer, slow, measured, until the brazier light revealed the harsh lines of his face. His eyes, a stormy grey, held hers without flinching. "No. I expect you to fight me, to run, to hate me for walking in here at all. But if you want to live. If you want to leave this place alive, you'll have to decide whether my hand is worth taking when the time comes."
Emily's throat tightened. She didn't know if it was his words or the way he said them, steady and calm amid the madness, but for the first time since she'd been dragged into this nightmare, a tiny fracture of doubt cracked through her fear.
Breckt looked away. His jaw clenched, his fists curling at his sides, "Because you were chosen," he muttered. "And I don't yet know what that means. But I know it puts you in more danger than you can imagine."
Emily's breath hitched, her pulse hammering in her ears. "Chosen… by who? And for what?"
Breckt's eyes returned to hers, haunted, almost human for a flicker of a second. He leaned closer to the bars, his voice low, heavy, "You think I was always this monster?" His lips curled with bitter disdain. "I was like you once. Flesh and blood. A man who laughed, who bled, who feared. I remember the night they dragged me here, just as they dragged your friend. And when the change came, I swore I would never forget. Most of them—" his voice broke into a growl, "—they let the past rot away. They welcome the hunger. But I remember. Every scream. Every face."
Emily staggered back, shaking her head violently. "You're lying."
"I wish I was." His eyes burned with a strange, unbearable grief.
Emily's stomach turned cold. The leader's words echoed in her skull 'you were claimed.'
Before she could speak again, Breckt stepped back toward the door. His hand rested on the iron handle, his eyes cutting back to her once more.
"I'll return when I can. Don't draw attention to yourself. And whatever happens, don't let him see you break."
The door groaned open. Torchlight spilled into the cell. For a heartbeat, Emily thought she saw movement in the shadows beyond. A presence watching, silent, waiting.
Breckt slipped out, and the door slammed shut behind him.
Emily's knees gave out. She sagged against the chains, her mind a storm of questions, her heart racing with dread. She wasn't sure what terrified her more. The leader's claim, or the soldier's offer.