The dim light of the basement flickered, casting eerie shadows on the damp walls. Her sobs echoed softly, filling the cold air with a palpable sense of dread. She trembled, her wrists raw and bound tightly to a rusted metal rod above her head. Tears streaked her face, glistening like tiny shards of glass in the faint glow.
"No—no" she stammered, her voice trembling, hiccuping. "Don't… don't do that… Spare me, please…" Her words dissolved into gasps as her chest heaved with desperation.
"Spare you?" A voice slithered through the darkness, smooth but laced with a venomous undertone. The man stepped closer, his boots crunching against loose gravel on the floor. Then, a chuckle—low and chilling—escaped his lips. "How can I spare such a beauty?"
Her breath hitched. His words dripped with malice, and the air between them felt heavier, suffocating. He took another step forward, the dim light catching the glint of something metallic in his hand.
"No… no…" she whimpered, shaking her head violently, as if denying the reality would make it vanish.
"Shush now," he whispered, tilting his head to the side, his shadow towering over her like a predator.
She flinched as he reached out a hand, his fingers curling toward her face. She squeezed her eyes shut, biting her lip so hard she tasted blood. Her cries grew louder, but it was futile. The walls were thick, the world above oblivious.
"Stop screaming," he growled, irritation flickering in his tone. "No one can hear you."
A sob broke free from her lips, and her knees buckled beneath her. Her head fell forward, her tangled hair clinging to her tear-streaked cheeks. Through shallow breaths, she muttered, barely audible, "Don't… don't touch me…"
For a moment, silence hung between them, thick and tense. The man leaned in closer, his shadow swallowing her entirely. A twisted grin crept across his face as he lifted his hand again, his movements deliberate, calculated.
But she kept her head low, her body trembling. Her voice broke through the suffocating stillness, soft but defiant: "Please… just don't…"
The flickering light above them blinked out entirely, plunging the room into darkness. Her scream tore through the air, sharp and piercing, but the night swallowed it whole.
Her heart thundered in her chest, each beat louder than the last. The darkness pressed in, suffocating and unrelenting. His shadow loomed over her, and his hand, cold and merciless, reached toward her trembling thighs. Just as his hand descended, as his shadow engulfed her—
She woke up screaming.
The sound tore through her room, raw and piercing. She bolted upright, her chest heaving as though she had been running for her life. The remnants of the nightmare clung to her like a second skin, sticky and suffocating.
Her hands flew to her face, trembling, finding it slick with tears. Her cheeks burned, her throat raw from the screams that hadn't stopped echoing in her mind. "No," she whispered, her voice cracking. "No… no…"
The room was dimly lit, her small apartment quiet except for her gasping breaths. But she wasn't here. Not really. Her mind was still trapped in that room, that horrible room. The past reached out, pulling her under like an undertow she could never escape.
She stumbled to her feet, her legs shaking so violently she nearly collapsed. Clutching the edge of the dresser for support, she raised her head and caught sight of herself in the mirror.
The girl staring back at her looked like a stranger.
Her face was blotchy, streaked with tears that wouldn't stop. Her eyes—once bright and filled with hope—were hollow, empty, like the eyes of a corpse. Her lips trembled, and her hands hovered uncertainly in the air, as if she didn't know what to do with them.
She hated that face. She hated that beauty.
"Six years," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the pounding of her heart. "It's been six years…"
But it still felt like yesterday. The touch of his hands, the suffocating weight of his presence—they lingered. It was as though his fingerprints were burned into her skin, invisible scars that no amount of time could erase. She could still feel the ghost of his breath on her neck, still hear his voice in her nightmares.
Her stomach twisted violently, and she turned away from the mirror, unable to look at herself any longer. She wanted to claw at her own skin, to scrape away the memories, the shame, the disgust.
She sank to the floor, her head resting against the edge of the bed, her body trembling with fresh sobs. She clenched her fists so tightly that her nails dug into her palms, the sharp pain grounding her, just barely.
"Why?" she choked out, her voice cracking. "Why am I still here?"
It wasn't the first time she'd asked herself that question. The thought of ending it all had whispered to her many nights, tempting her with the promise of silence, of peace. This world was cruel, and she didn't belong in it.
But then, as if summoned by some desperate instinct, a face flashed in her mind.
Her sister.
Her little sister's smile, her laughter so pure it could light up the darkest room. She was the reason. The only reason. Her sister didn't know the horrors of this world—not yet—and she would make sure it stayed that way.
She promised herself.
She wiped at her tear-streaked face, though her hands were still trembling. Slowly, shakily, she dragged herself to her feet and turned back to the mirror. Her reflection was the same: broken, lifeless, hollow.
But she couldn't break. Not yet.
"For her," she whispered, her voice steadier now. "I have to keep going for her."
Her beauty had cursed her, robbed her of everything—her peace, her innocence, her joy. But if enduring this pain meant her sister would never know the same suffering, it would be worth it.
She stared into the mirror, her eyes cold, her expression resolute. She hated herself. She hated her body. She hated the reflection that stared back at her. But she would endure it all—for her sister.
Because someone had to protect her.
Even if it meant being a ghost of a person, a walking corpse, she would stay alive.
For her sister.
For her.
For now.
••••
THE STORY OF ELYSIA CALDER...
Elysia Calder's life was a fight—every day, every breath, all for her sister, Noelle Calder. At twenty-four, Elysia was hardened by a past too dark to forget, yet her heart softened every time she looked at Noelle. After the nightmare that shattered her world six years ago, Elysia swore she would never let her sister face the same horrors.
No matter the cost, Elysia would fight for Noelle—her reason to survive.
••••
She washed her face, the cold water doing little to soothe the redness of her swollen eyes. The tears that had streamed endlessly through the night still clung to her skin, the aftermath of a pain she couldn't escape. She stared at her reflection in the mirror, forcing her lips into a small, fake smile. It was all she could muster.
With a deep breath, Elysia turned away from the mirror and left her room, her steps slow and measured. As she pushed open the door to Noelle's room, she stopped for a moment. There, in the quiet stillness of the early morning, lay Noelle—curled up on the bed, blissfully unaware of the struggles Elysia carried.
A smile, real this time, tugged at Elysia's lips as she watched her sister sleep. Noelle's innocence, her calm, was a comfort Elysia could never quite put into words. She crossed the room softly, her heart lightening with each step. The pain, the nightmares—they didn't matter as long as Noelle was safe.
Gently, she placed a hand on Noelle's shoulder and whispered, "Time to wake up, little one."
As Noelle stirred, her face lighting up with a sleepy, trusting smile, Elysia knew—whatever came next, she would face it for her.
"Noelle..." Elysia called softly, her voice tinged with exhaustion. She sighed when there was no response. The weight of the night still clung to her, but she pushed it aside as she pulled the blanket gently off her sister.
She called again, this time a little louder, "Noelle."
This time, Noelle stirred, her face still soft with sleep. Her eyes fluttered open, squinting at the morning light. "What time is it?" she mumbled, her voice thick with drowsiness.
"9:00 AM," Elysia answered, her tone steady, though a quiet frustration lingered in her chest.
Noelle's eyes shot wide open, suddenly awake, as she scrambled to sit up. "Why didn't the alarm ring?" she asked in a panic, her hand instinctively reaching for her phone.
Elysia's gaze shifted toward the broken alarm clock on the floor by the door. A small sigh escaped her lips. Maybe because you broke it too when it rang, she thought, her eyes narrowing at the shattered remains of the clock. It seemed Noelle's wild sleeping habits had claimed yet another casualty.
Her lips twisted into a tired smile. She hadn't even been surprised anymore. She broke this one too... Elysia's eyes lingered on the mess as Noelle rushed to the door, her movements frantic as she checked the time on her phone.
With a shake of her head, Elysia couldn't help but laugh softly to herself, the tension in her chest easing just a little. "Your sleeping habits are wild," she muttered, and Noelle, oblivious to the chaos she'd left behind, shot her a guilty glance.
"I swear, I didn't mean to," Noelle said sheepishly, already hurrying to get dressed.
Noelle rushed back into the room, her face still flushed with panic. "I'm late! I'm late!" she muttered, frantically throwing on clothes as she moved about the room. But amidst her hurried movements, she paused for a moment and quickly planted a soft kiss on Elysia's cheek.
"Good morning," Noelle said with a bright, yet slightly frantic smile before darting past her, heading toward the bathroom.
"I'll be ready in a minute!" Noelle shouted from inside the bathroom, her voice muffled by the door. "You too, get ready. We'll have breakfast at the university, okay?"
Elysia couldn't help but smile at Noelle's enthusiasm, even in the midst of her rushed panic. She nodded, the exhaustion from the night fading away for a brief moment as she gathered her things.
"Okay," Elysia called back softly. "I'll be ready."
She stood for a moment longer, listening to the sounds of her sister getting ready, her heart lightened by the small moments of normalcy amidst the storm.
••••
The thing was... Noelle wasn't even Elysia's biological sister. Noelle wasn't bound to her by blood.
But she was her savior.
Six years ago, in the very place that still haunted Elysia's nightmares, their paths had crossed. It was there, in the heart of darkness, that Elysia had found both her deepest nemesis and her greatest hope, all in one place, all at the same time.
••••
Elysia was 24 now, her sister Noelle just two years younger at 22. They had managed to carve out a shared dream, one they pursued side by side. Both were in their final year of fashion design, working tirelessly to make something of themselves. Their days were long, divided between classes and part-time jobs—sometimes stamping designs in small companies, other times pulling late-night shifts at local cafés. It wasn't glamorous, but it kept them afloat, their eyes fixed on the future.
The classroom buzzed with energy as their professor stepped forward with an announcement that made everyone sit up straighter. "Two days from now," he began, "representatives from major fashion houses will be visiting to review your internship projects. This is your chance to impress, to step into the industry you've been working so hard for."
Elysia felt a surge of anxiety mingled with determination. She glanced at Noelle, whose wide-eyed excitement masked her own nerves. This was it. The moment they had been waiting for. The stakes were high, and failure wasn't an option—not when so much depended on making it out of the shadows of their past.
The day passed in a blur of focused preparation and whispered conversations about what was to come. The sisters worked in tandem, their bond as strong as ever. As the sun dipped below the horizon, the weight of the announcement lingered, but Elysia found herself smiling faintly. For the first time in a long time, they were chasing something brighter than the darkness that once consumed them.
The next day dawned just as smoothly, calm yet charged with the anticipation of what lay ahead. Elysia and Noelle, despite the tension, moved through their routine with the same unspoken determination that had always kept them going...