Haisley
When I wake, I feel warmth enveloping me, something solid and comforting wrapped around me. For a moment, the confusion is overwhelming, and then I peer up to see Zyraxiel looking down at me. His red eyes are intense but not cold—almost watchful. My heart races, but not with fear.
I glance down at my legs, expecting to see the gashes and wounds from the creature that attacked me, but there's nothing. No scars, no blood. It's like I was never hurt.
"I was hurt," I whisper, my voice thick with confusion.
"You were healed," he replies, his voice a low, soothing rumble. "I couldn't let my favorite die." He smiles, a smile that both unsettles and confuses me. His favorite? I should be pulling away from him, should be scrambling to break free from his hold, but I don't. Instead, I relax into him, the warmth from his body seeping into me, chasing away the cold that's clung to me for days.
"Megan!" The thought hits me suddenly, and I try to move, but his arms tighten around me, holding me in place.
"I healed her for you," he whispers, and the tension drains from my body.
I exhale softly, the relief washing over me. "What was that thing?" I ask quietly, dreading the answer.
"A crawler," he says, his tone darkening. "Abominations. They are born from the leftover fragments of failed demon creations. Vile creatures, rejected by us. They have no master, no rules. They creep into places they don't belong, feeding off humans, slowly consuming their entire bodies, piece by piece."
My stomach twists. The entire body? I can't help but think of people who vanish without a trace. Could some of them have been taken by those things? I shudder at the thought, the image of the crawler's black, soulless eyes flashing in my mind.
"You need to sleep now," Zyraxiel whispers, his voice suddenly soft again, like a dark lullaby. "Good luck."
I open my mouth to ask what he means, but before I can form the words, darkness sweeps over me, pulling me under.
When I open my eyes again, I'm surrounded by nothing but blackness. I can't see anything—no walls, no floor, just endless void. The silence is suffocating, pressing in on all sides. Then, a voice cuts through the darkness, cold and emotionless.
"The rules are simple. You will each lose that part of yourself. Your demon will take it. If you struggle, you will lose more."
The voice sends a chill down my spine, but I force myself to focus. Don't struggle. Simple enough.
"If you end up losing more than one piece, you can scream out one of your secrets and have it end. Or you can call out one of your team's secrets. You briefly hold their secrets in your mind."
I blink, confused. Their secrets? How could I have other people's secrets? But the voice presses on, offering no explanation.
"The screams you hear may not be real, but you can stop them. Call out a secret, either your own or someone else's, and it will end. Good luck."
I sit in the darkness, waiting. Silence surrounds me like a thick, suffocating blanket. The air feels heavy with anticipation, like something terrible is just out of reach, waiting to strike. I can hear it. The secrets of others floating through me mind.
Suddenly, the silence is shattered by a blood-curdling scream.
It's so sharp, so full of raw agony that I instinctively flinch. It cuts through the blackness like a knife, and then, just as suddenly, it stops. The silence returns, even more oppressive than before. But then another scream echoes through the void. This one is longer, more desperate, filled with pain that I can feel in my bones.
"I had an affair!" a voice shouts, trembling and full of shame. The scream stops, the pain silenced by the confession.
Then more screams fill the air, louder, closer now. My heart races, the sound clawing at my insides. And then I hear it—Megan's voice, sharp and clear, cutting through the chaos.
"Haisley sold herself for sex."
The words hit me like a slap, and I freeze. Shock floods my body, leaving me cold and hollow. How could she say that? Shame coils around me like a noose, tightening with every passing second. I hear another woman screaming in the distance, but it's drowned out by the weight of Megan's confession. My confession.
I'm shaking, barely able to breathe as more screams echo through the darkness, each one growing more frantic, more desperate.
I can't take it anymore. The sound, the pain, it's too much. My lips part, and before I can stop myself, I speak. "I've worked backstage at a dance club after hours." The woman's screams stop abruptly, swallowed by the blackness.
The room falls silent again, but I can feel it—him. Zyraxiel steps forward, his presence heavy, almost suffocating in the void. I brace myself, my body tensing as he approaches. I know what's coming. He's here to take it—my darkest memory.
"Don't fight it," his voice whispers in the dark, as cold as the void surrounding us. I bite my lip, determined not to scream, determined not to struggle.
He reaches for me, and the second his hand touches my skin, the memory floods back with brutal clarity.
My mother's scream. My father's hand gripping the knife. The flash of steel. Blood—so much blood. Her body crumpling to the floor, lifeless, while I stood frozen, too scared to move, too scared to cry out. My father's cold, dead eyes locking with mine before he turned and disappeared into the night.
The pain rips through me, sharp and all-consuming. It feels like my soul is being torn apart, piece by piece, as Zyraxiel takes the memory from me. But I don't scream. I won't. I bite down so hard on my lip I taste blood, but I refuse to give in. I refuse to let the pain win.
It feels like an eternity, the memory playing over and over in my mind as he pulls it from me, every detail sharp and vivid. But I stay silent. I hold on.
Finally, the pain fades, and I collapse to the ground, my body trembling, drenched in sweat. The memory is gone, ripped from me, but the emptiness it leaves behind is almost worse.
Zyraxiel stands over me, his expression unreadable as he watches me, but I can feel his satisfaction.
He kneels beside me, his glowing red eyes locking onto mine, studying me like I'm some intricate puzzle he's finally starting to understand. "You're selfless, Haisley," Zyraxiel murmurs, his voice dark and almost tender. "You save others with your own secrets, while they use yours to save themselves. That darkness within you, it's... delightful." His lips curl into a smile, a slow, dangerous grin. "And though you still have fear, it's not much. You're not afraid of what you should be."
Behind his words, the agonized screams continue, filling the air like some twisted symphony. I hear them, but I don't react. His words hit me harder than the sounds of their pain.
"Stop saving them," he says, his voice like a velvet blade. "They've already proven they wouldn't do the same for you."
I know he's right. Deep down, I've known for a while. Something inside me feels hollow, like a void opening up where there used to be a flicker of hope or trust. The need to protect them, to shield them from this nightmare, it's gone. Faded. I stare into the darkness as the screams echo around us, but I don't flinch anymore. I just… listen.
Most of the women are calling out someone else's secrets, shouting their betrayals into the dark, desperate to save themselves. I sit quietly, hearing it all, my heart cold. There's no friendship here, no bonds—just survival.
Eventually, the screams fade, leaving nothing but a suffocating silence. Darkness descends, wrapping around me like a thick blanket, pulling me under.
When I wake, I'm back in the room. The others are still asleep, their faces slack with exhaustion and fear. I sit up, my body stiff and sore, but there's a coldness inside me now. A sharp clarity.
I grab my few belongings and stand, moving away from them. Fuck them. I was the only one who tried to save Megan, who got clawed and bitten by that creature for her sake—and what did she do? She sold out my secrets, without a second thought.
I'm done. There's no point in trying to save people who would throw me to the wolves the first chance they get. I've been holding onto this misplaced loyalty, this need to protect them, but no more.
I move farther away, letting the distance between me and the others grow. Whatever comes next, I'll face it alone.