Chapter 23 Calm moments are golden
“I am trapped in this place and can’t escape!”
The words tore from her throat, raw and desperate. Behind her, the thing moved with unnatural patience. Its hand, with long jointed fingers that looked almost human but ended in jagged black claws, slowly settled on her shoulder. The touch was cold, heavier than a block of ice, and it sank through her clothes straight into her skin like frostbite burrowing deep.
The ground beneath her feet fractured with a sickening wet crack, as if bones were breaking. Black veins webbed outward. Darkness surged upward from the fissures like thick oily smoke that smelled of rot and burnt flesh. It coiled around her ankles first, then her calves, pulling with a gentle but irresistible force.
She screamed as the darkness began eating her flesh piece by piece. Her toes dissolved into shadow, then her feet. The sensation was like being slowly erased by acid, burning yet impossibly cold all at once. Her legs buckled as the void climbed higher, twisting and stretching her body in ways flesh should never bend. Her spine arched violently. Every joint popped and cracked.
“Noooo! Hold on! I’m coming!” Vandal lunged forward, his heart hammering against his ribs. His fingers stretched desperately, inches away from hers.
But the distance stretched. No matter how hard he ran, the ground beneath him seemed to lengthen, turning every stride into slow motion. Her eyes, wide with terror, locked onto his. For one fleeting second, they were still hers. Then something else flickered behind them. Something ancient. Hungry. Amused.
The thing behind her leaned in close. Its breath was a whisper of graveyard air against her ear. Her body jerked violently as it took control. Her arms moved in stiff puppet-like motions, joints bending at wrong angles. Her head twitched sideways with a sudden snap. She smiled, but it wasn’t her smile. It was too wide, with too many teeth.
“What’s wrong? Talk to me! Who’s hurting you?!” Vandal roared, pouring every bit of strength into his legs. The gap only widened. The air grew thick and heavy, pressing down on his chest like a bag of cement.
Then the thing lifted her effortlessly. Its arm elongated, bones cracking and reforming as it drove its clawed hand straight through her chest with a wet tearing sound. Blood, dark and shimmering with unnatural light, splattered across the fracturing ground. Her scream cut off into a wet gurgle. Her eyes, still so painfully human, stared straight at Vandal as the life drained from them, and something else stared back.
“Noooooo!” Vandal’s voice cracked, raw with shock.
“Wake up! Wake up! It’s just a nightmare!”
The voice sliced through the darkness like a lifeline. Vandal gasped, his eyes flying open. He was drenched in cold sweat, his chest heaving. The nightmare still clung to him. Its rotten smell lingered in his nostrils, and the wet tearing sound echoed in his ears.
Sabine’s oval face hovered above him, etched with deep worry. Soft morning light filtered through the window, catching on the delicate strands of her hair. She held a warm plate of apple pie. Its sweet cinnamon-laced aroma cut through the lingering stench of the dream and made his stomach growl loudly despite everything.
“Are you okay? You were screaming, really screaming,” Sabine said softly, her voice gentle but laced with concern.
Vandal sat up slowly, wiping the sweat from his brow with a shaky hand. His heart was still racing. “I… I’m fine. Just a bad dream.”
The pie smelled incredible: warm apples, buttery crust, a hint of vanilla. He took the plate from her. The ceramic was warm against his palms. As he took the first bite, the flaky crust crumbled perfectly. The filling was sweet and tart on his tongue. Yet his mind kept drifting back.
“Do you remember what happened yesterday?” Sabine asked, sitting on the edge of the bed.
“Pieces, in hazes.” Vandal chewed slowly. The taste grounded him. “I got angry when they tried to drag you into my mess. How do you even stay in a place like that? Your mother didn’t even defend you.” A perplexed frown crossed his face.
Sabine looked down. Her fingers twisted in her lap. “Well, there are some things I can’t tell you about right now. I want to keep you safe, so don’t worry about it.” She offered a sad, fragile smile.
Vandal studied that smile. It carried the weight of someone who had been let down too many times. “I know that smile,” he murmured. “It’s the smile of someone abandoned by the world.” He reached out and gently touched her oval face. His thumb brushed her cheek. The skin was soft and warm.
Funny how he had barely known her not long ago, and now here she was, bringing him breakfast in bed while he touched her face so tenderly. A strange warmth spread in his chest, mixing with the leftover fear from the nightmare.
He had never quite had a place to rest since he woke up in this world. Everything and everyone seemed dangerous. One wrong move could have led to his death. So the feeling of simply lying in bed, eating, and talking to someone who showed genuine concern for his well-being was something he was still coming to terms with.
“Vandal? Are you listening to me? You’re ignoring me, aren’t you?” Sabine’s voice pulled him back. She was pouting. Her cheeks flushed a soft pink. Her eyes narrowed in mock annoyance.
He looked at her and couldn’t help smiling. That pout was adorable. “No, silly. I was just thinking about my life.” He reached over and pinched her cheek lightly.
She slapped his hand away. The blush deepened. “Eat quickly. You have to prove yourself worthy of being an enforcer.”
Vandal nearly choked on his last bite. “Huh? Enforcer? How? I thought I failed the test.” He sat up straighter, suddenly alert.
Sabine’s expression grew more serious. “One of the grand elders, Holy Father Williams, took an interest in you. He wants you in the enforcers. But Holy Father Duncan objected. They made a wager. If you can beat one of the enforcers in a fight, you become one.”
She hesitated, then added quietly, “The opponent they chose is the youngest enforcer. He’s even younger than me. He’s only fourteen. I’m sixteen.” She said the last part reluctantly, almost shyly, as if afraid it would make her seem older in his eyes.
Vandal stroked his chin, trying to process it. “So he’s basically my age mate. He must be insanely talented.”
“He is,” Sabine said. “He once fought and killed two hybrid echo users.”
The word “hybrid” sent another flicker of those dark memories through Vandal’s mind.
A woman (this body’s mother) standing over a convulsing figure. Her hands glowed with purple fire. The victim screamed as something bright and ethereal was ripped from their chest and forced into her. The memory carried the metallic tang of blood and the acrid smell of burning essence.
Soul sacrifice. The term floated up from the stolen knowledge in his head. It was a forbidden ritual that was so dark it immediately twisted the mind of whoever used it. To gain a second element, you had to steal it by killing people who carried that echo type and absorbing their essence.
He remembered more flashes. The mother absorbing essence again and again, but never quite enough to fully unlock the second element. That was why he had only seen her use purple fire that day. She was still building her power, and he was supposed to be the final piece that would make her absorption complete.
“You didn’t ask me what hybrids are, but I will tell you anyway. Hybrids are people with two echo elements, but they’re abominations because that extra element is bought with murder, with stolen souls. And that’s what makes them so terrifying. They are stone-cold killers.”
Vandal took another bite of pie. The sweetness clashed with the dark thoughts. If she was trying to kill me that day, was she trying to take my echo too?
He finished the pie. The sweetness had turned slightly bitter on his tongue.
Sabine stood up, collecting the empty plate. “I am thinking of a way out of this. I don’t want you to fight him, because someone capable of killing hybrids is someone you simply can’t afford to offend. I was thinking of trying to convince him to go easy on you, to find a compromise somehow.”
Vandal shook his head.
“No, don’t beg or talk to him. I will fight my own battles, and if I lose, then I lose. In all you said, I never heard of a death match, so it’s just going to be me beating him up or not. Don’t worry so much. I am pretty tough to handle too.”
Even as he said that, a knot of unease tightened in his gut. A fourteen-year-old who had already killed a hybrid, an abomination created through forbidden soul sacrifices. Someone that dangerous at such a young age.
What kind of monster was he about to face?
And more importantly, could he actually win?