The Locket of Netherworlds

The Bond

As Dylan and Aya were walking back to the van, she suddenly trembled and lost her balance. She nearly hit the ground, but Dylan caught her just in time.

It would’ve been a good moment—comforting, even—if not for the sharp sting that shot through her arm. Aya winced. She was injured. She didn’t know how it happened, but the pain was growing, spreading like fire through her shoulder.

Dylan noticed her reaction and quickly checked her arm. Blood. It stained his fingers.

Something shifted in him.

His face paled. Beads of sweat broke across his forehead. His hands trembled. And for a moment—just a second—his eyes flickered red.

He fought to steady himself. To stay in control. But it wasn’t just the blood—it was her blood. A woman’s blood. And he knew what that meant. What it could awaken.

The consequences were inevitable now. The bond had formed.

He had to protect her.

Aya was barely conscious. The pain in her shoulder was unbearable, like her muscles were being torn apart from the inside. She struggled to stay awake, her vision blurring.

But even through the haze, she thought she saw Dylan’s eyes change. Just for a moment. Crimson. Burning.

Or was it a hallucination?

Just before Aya slipped into unconsciousness, Dylan's eyes shifted again—from crimson to pure black.

Then everything changed.

A sudden rush of visions flooded her mind. Blinding. Violent. Terrifying.

She saw people—her people—dying one by one. Each death played out vividly before her eyes, like she was there, living through it. Screams echoed. Blood spilled. And the worst part... was that thing. A shadowy creature with massive fangs, its form shifting and writhing, killing everyone around her with merciless force.

She wept as she watched it all unfold, helpless.

But nothing broke her more than seeing Dylan.

He was dying in her arms. Blood coated his lips as he tried to smile. His fingers brushed her face, gently, lovingly—before he vanished into thin air like smoke caught in the wind.

“No,” she cried, reaching out into the void.

Suddenly, from behind a tree, the man she had seen before stepped into the open.

He looked exactly like Dylan—same face, same eyes—but with long, flowing white hair that shimmered under the moonlight. Something about him felt ancient… and dangerous.

He spoke no words, only extended his hand.

Aya couldn’t move. Couldn’t resist. She was drawn to him—his eyes, his voice in her mind. He caught her in his arms, pulling her close. Then he kissed her.

His crimson eyes were hypnotic, and she felt the same warmth she felt when Dylan held her. The same spark.

But this was different.

This kiss lingered, deeper, darker. His lips moved from hers, trailing slowly down to her neck. The kiss there was electric—tingling—until it wasn’t.

Until he bit her.

A sharp pang pierced her neck like fire made flesh. Her eyes snapped wide, and a scream choked in her throat.

Then the burning began.

It spread from her neck to her chest, her limbs—every vein set aflame, like something inside her was breaking free, clawing to the surface.

She arched back, convulsing, as if her very soul was being torn apart.

Something was awakening.

Aya jolted awake gasping for breath. Her breathing shallow and her skin clammy. Her hand was wrapped around Dylan’s, his eyes fixed on her with deep concern.

Outside, the sound of laughter and music drifted in through the open windows. The others were gathered around the bonfire, their silhouettes dancing in the firelight. The plan was simple—they would head to the mansion tomorrow, once the sun was up.

But Aya knew the truth.

When she saw Dylan’s face, something in her broke. She turned away slightly, hugging her arms to her chest, and began to cry.

She didn’t know how to tell them. Any of them. How could she say that she knew this place was haunted? That she had seen things—horrible things. That she was certain none of them were coming back once they stepped inside that resort.

She buried her face against Dylan’s shoulder, sobs escaping her chest.

“I saw it,” she choked out. “I saw everything. We’re not supposed to be here. Something’s wrong… so, so wrong.”

Dylan pulled her closer, wrapping an arm around her trembling form. His hand gently threaded through her hair, grounding her in a way that words couldn’t.

“Shh,” he whispered. “It’s okay. I’m here. We’ll figure this out. Everything’s going to be alright.”

But Aya could hear the hesitation in his voice. The slight tremble.

Even he wasn’t sure.

And outside, the fire crackled, oblivious to the storm that was about to begin.