Sophie sat hunched over Marcus's limp body, her bloodstained hands pressed to his chest as though her touch alone could anchor him to the world. His breathing was shallow, erratic, each gasp a cruel reminder of how close he lingered to the edge.
But it wasn't the silence of his body that terrified her most. It was the silence in her mind.
Ethan had gone quiet.
The absence was worse than his taunts, worse than his laughter. At least when he spoke, she knew where he was, what he wanted. Now, he was everywhere and nowhere, a weight pressing against the back of her skull, like a predator crouched in the dark waiting for her to stumble.
Her lips trembled. "I know you're still here. You don't get to vanish just because you're losing."
The air seemed to hum, vibrating against her ears. And then his voice slithered through her, low and intimate. Losing? Oh, Sophie… you mistake silence for surrender. I am watching. I am learning. And soon, I will not need to speak at all. I will simply… be.
Sophie clenched her jaw, shaking her head as tears pricked her eyes. "You can't take him. I won't let you."
The chuckle that followed wasn't loud, but it slid through her bones like ice. You won't let me? Sophie, you've already let me. Every fear you've whispered into the dark, every weakness you've tried to bury—I've tasted them all through him. Your guilt. Your shame. Your doubt. I know you better than he ever could.
Her stomach twisted violently. "Shut up."
You wonder, don't you? Ethan pressed, his words echoing like a thought that wasn't hers. If he hadn't stepped into my pit, if he hadn't offered himself, would you still love him the same way? Or do you only love him now because he suffers? Because saving him makes you feel worthy?
Sophie's throat tightened. "Stop it!"
The shadows around the room quivered, responding to the sharp spike of her fear. Ethan's whisper turned almost tender. It's all right. I won't judge you for it. In fact, I admire it. The way your heart clings to ruin, the way your desire is braided with pain. It makes you mine already, Sophie. You just haven't admitted it yet.
Her vision blurred with tears, but she refused to look away from Marcus. She stroked his hair with shaking fingers, whispering fiercely, "You're wrong. I love him because he's him. Because he's more than anything you could ever twist him into."
Ethan's laughter pulsed through Marcus's chest, making his body twitch beneath her touch. Say it all you want. But I can feel the cracks. When you look into his eyes and see me staring back, what will you choose then? Him—or the memory of who he was?
Sophie squeezed her eyes shut, rocking Marcus in her arms like she could shield him from the voice worming through both their souls. But Ethan didn't stop.
Shall I show him what you hide from him? The dreams you don't speak of? The nights you wished he would hold you tighter, rougher, until you couldn't breathe? The dark corners of your love you're too afraid to admit even to yourself?
Her body stiffened, shame flooding her veins. "Don't."
The whisper curved into a smile. Don't what? Don't tell him what you've begged for in silence? Don't remind you that love, real love, is a cage you both built with your own trembling hands?
Marcus stirred faintly, a groan slipping past his lips. Sophie's heart lurched, but her relief was poisoned by terror—because when his eyes opened, they flickered black before softening into brown.
"Sophie…?" His voice was weak, confused, as though he couldn't remember how he had gotten there.
She forced a smile through her tears. "I'm here. I've got you."
But Ethan's whisper lingered, hidden behind Marcus's breath. And I've got you both.
Marcus's hand twitched in Sophie's grasp. His eyelids fluttered, brown irises visible for the briefest heartbeat before a wash of black swallowed them whole. Sophie stiffened, clutching his hand tighter.
"Marcus," she whispered, urgent, desperate. "Stay with me. Don't let him pull you under."
But when his lips parted, the voice that emerged was not his own.
Why fight it, Sophie? He's a vessel now. Flesh is malleable. Memories are soft clay. All I need to do is press, and he becomes what I choose.
Marcus's body jerked upright, his movements sharp and unnatural. Sophie staggered back, still holding the knife slick with dried blood. His head tilted at an unnatural angle, a grin stretching across his face.
Shall I show you? Ethan purred. Shall I show you what lies in the marrow of your fears?
The house darkened instantly, every flicker of light snuffed out. Sophie gasped, her breath fogging in air that had turned icy. And then the walls began to bleed. Black liquid dripped down in thick rivulets, swallowing the wood, the plaster, everything she knew.
When she blinked, she was no longer in the house.
She stood in the middle of a classroom. Bright lights hummed above her, chalk dust lingering in the air. But the room was empty—except for the whispers.
"You don't belong here."
Her stomach clenched. She recognized those voices. The boys from her first days at the school, the ones who had laughed, jeered, shoved her into lockers.
"You're nothing."
The whispers grew louder, the desks rattling with the weight of them. Sophie pressed her hands over her ears, shaking her head. "No. That's not me anymore. That's not who I am."
But then she saw him—Marcus—sitting in the back of the classroom. His head was lowered, his body hunched, but when he lifted his gaze, his eyes were black.
"Why did you let them?" he asked. His voice was Marcus's, but warped, hollow. "Why did you let them touch you, hurt you, break you? Did you like it? Did you need it?"
Sophie's chest constricted. "No! That's not true!"
The boys' laughter filled the air, and Marcus rose from his seat, his grin wide and cruel. "You've always belonged to pain, Sophie. That's why you cling to me. That's why you'll never let me go."
She stumbled back, tears streaking her face, the knife slipping from her trembling hand.
And then, just as suddenly, the scene shattered.
She was back in the house, on her knees, Marcus standing over her. His chest heaved, his hands clawing at his temples, his voice torn between two selves. "Sophie—help me—"
Ethan's laugh erupted from his throat, shaking the beams above. Do you see? Your greatest enemy is not me. It is you. And through him, I will make sure you never forget it.
Sophie scrambled forward, clutching Marcus's face in her hands despite the black veins crawling across his skin. Her tears fell hot and unrelenting. "No, Ethan. My enemy is you. And if you think you can use my pain to break me—you've underestimated what I'll endure to save him."
Marcus's eyes flickered brown for a moment. His lips trembled. "Sophie…"
And in that flicker, she felt him—trapped but alive, desperate to be pulled back.
Her grip tightened, her voice rising above Ethan's whispers. "I love you. Not your pain. Not your sacrifice. You. And nothing you show me will change that."
The shadows recoiled violently, the black in Marcus's eyes receding for a heartbeat. Ethan's roar filled the air, furious and wounded. You cannot hold him forever. Every vow cracks. Every love rots. When the marrow of your hope is gone, I will still be here.
Marcus collapsed into her arms, his body shaking, but his breath shallow and real. Sophie rocked him, clutching him close, whispering fiercely through her tears.
"Then we'll break before we bend."