The world felt cold—achingly, bitterly cold.
Samuel awoke with a sharp, rattling gasp, lungs struggling to pull air into a body that didn't feel like his own. The scent of burning wax mingled with the metallic tang of blood, sharp and unnatural. Candlelight flickered from a bedside table, its dim glow casting long shadows against frost-covered walls.
The last thing Samuel remembered was the spiral—dark and infinite, devouring him whole. He'd fallen into its depths, and now… this.
He tried to sit up, but his body resisted. The weight of something unfamiliar held him down—lighter limbs, smaller hands. His pulse quickened as his fingers touched his face: smooth, sharp features that weren't his. Panic surged.
"This isn't me," he whispered, the voice escaping his lips high and fragile.
He scrambled out of bed, bare feet hitting icy wooden planks. Every step felt alien, as though his mind and body were out of sync. Staggering to a frost-clouded mirror across the room, he froze.
The reflection wasn't his.
A boy, no older than twelve, stared back. Pale, wide-eyed, with disheveled dark hair and trembling hands. Memories not his own clawed at the edges of his mind—images of a cozy cabin, snowdrifts glistening outside, the scent of cinnamon bread, a mother's laughter. The name came unbidden, like a whisper through his thoughts.
Theo.
His breathing quickened as the memories tightened their grip. They weren't his. But they were there, as vivid as if they had been. The boy's life. His home. His face.
But Samuel's soul.
---
### The Weight of Two Souls
The faint murmur of voices drifted from the other side of the door. Samuel hesitated, his hand hovering over the icy wood. He didn't want to face them—whoever they were. He couldn't explain this. He couldn't even explain it to himself. But the voices pulled at him, like a thread unraveling in the cold silence.
Steeling himself, he pressed his ear to the door.
Inside the other room, a man and woman sat by a roaring fire. Gregory's broad shoulders slumped forward as he rubbed his temples, his expression dark. Lily clutched a knitted scarf to her chest, her face streaked with tears. Their grief hung heavy in the air, as suffocating as the frost creeping over the windows.
"I can't lose him again," Lily whispered, her voice breaking. "Theo's all we have left."
Gregory's jaw tightened. "The spiral reached him, Lily. You heard what Father Emmanuel said. It… changes things."
Across from them, a man in dark robes nodded grimly. "The boy's body lives," said Emmanuel, his voice calm but distant. "But his light… falters. Something within him has shifted."
"What do you mean?" Lily's knuckles whitened as she gripped the scarf.
The priest's gaze flicked toward the hallway door, sharp and probing. "It feels as if another stands in his place."
Samuel stumbled back from the door, his breath catching in his throat. They knew something was wrong. He pressed a trembling hand against the frost-covered wall, cold biting into his skin. A faint whisper echoed behind him, low and mocking.
"You're not supposed to be here."
He whirled around. Shadows pooled in the corner of the room, twisting and writhing until they coalesced into a jagged, humanoid shape. Its outline flickered like a broken image, spirals of darkness pulsing from its chest.
"What are you?" Samuel's voice cracked, his back pressing against the wall.
The figure stepped closer, its voice low and cutting. "You think you can just *take* his place?" It tilted its head, its hollow eyes narrowing. "This isn't your life. You don't belong."
Samuel's chest tightened. "I didn't choose this," he whispered. "The spiral—"
"The spiral *chose* you," the shadow hissed, its voice like ice splintering. "But it doesn't mean you're worthy."
The spirals on its chest flared, blindingly bright. Samuel squeezed his eyes shut, the light searing into his mind like a brand. When it faded, the shadow was gone.
But its words lingered.
---
### A Bitter Reunion
The door creaked as Samuel stepped into the main room. Gregory and Lily turned, their faces a mixture of relief and hesitation.
"Theo?" Lily rushed to him, wrapping him in a tight embrace. Her warmth seeped into his frozen skin, but he remained stiff, unsure how to respond.
Gregory rose from his chair, his gaze wary. "You're awake."
Samuel swallowed hard, his throat dry. "I… I think so," he murmured, his voice trembling. The weight of Theo's life pressed on him, suffocating and unfamiliar.
Emmanuel's dark eyes locked onto his. "How do you feel, boy?"
Samuel hesitated, the priest's gaze drilling into him. He needed to lie—he couldn't let them know. "Tired," he said softly.
Emmanuel studied him for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then he nodded. "Rest. The road ahead will test your strength."
Samuel nodded, his heart pounding. He didn't know what road lay ahead, but he could feel it—the spiral wasn't finished with him.
---
### Two Souls, One Body
That night, Samuel sat alone by the window, watching the snow fall in endless silence. The frost-covered glass reflected his face—Theo's face—and his own hollow eyes staring back.
A memory stirred, unbidden. Laughter. A warm kitchen. Theo's mother ruffling his hair as she set a steaming plate on the table. The memory wasn't his, but it felt *real*. Painfully so.
"I'm sorry," Samuel whispered to the boy whose life he now lived. "I didn't ask for this. I didn't want to take it from you."
The frost on the glass shimmered, faint spirals forming on its surface. For a moment, Samuel swore he felt something—a flicker of warmth in his chest, like a small ember struggling to survive in the cold.
Not his warmth. Theo's.
The duality gnawed at him—Samuel's fear, Theo's lingering presence, the spiral's inescapable pull. Somewhere in the silence, he felt the shadow watching, waiting.
And deep within, the spiral turned.