WHEN THE GODS LEARN TO BLEED

The Letter in Blood

The letter haunted me. It wasn’t just paper—it was a warning. The seal glowed faintly in the dim light of my apartment, mocking me with its silent menace.

I shouldn’t have opened it. Curiosity froze me anyway. The words inside:

“If you are reading this, the world has already begun to notice you. They are coming. Trust no one.”

A chill ran down my spine. Who was coming?

Then came a soft click from the hallway. My apartment wasn’t large, but the sound was deliberate. Someone was inside.

I hid the letter beneath my pillow and crept toward the kitchen. The hallway was empty. I exhaled. But a whisper floated behind me, almost imperceptible:

“Tristan…”

Nothing. Curtains moved in the evening breeze. But the voice was real. Deep, calm, malevolent.

Sleep refused me that night. By morning, I had to know. I walked the city streets with heightened awareness. Cars, pedestrians, pigeons—all oblivious. But somewhere, someone was watching.

A black sedan rolled past. Two men in suits, faces hidden behind dark glasses, scanned the crowd. My pulse quickened. My mother’s warning echoed: “They’re coming for you now.”

I ducked into an alleyway. When I looked back, the car was gone, as if it had never existed.

Returning home, I froze. Selene Arkwright sat on my couch, legs crossed, eyes sharp.

“You must be Tristan,” she said. Smooth. Unyielding. “We’ve been expecting you.”

“Who… who are you?” My voice trembled.

“Someone who can help you. Or someone who will watch you fail. That depends on you.”

I reached for the letter, but my hands felt weak. Her presence was magnetic and terrifying.

“I’m… no one special,” I said.

“You’re no longer ordinary,” she said. “And ordinary people don’t survive what’s coming.”

Outside, a shadow shifted—a figure on the rooftop across the street. The same cryptic symbol from my mother’s letter pressed against the glass.

Before I could react, Selene’s hand rested lightly on my shoulder. “They know you see it,” she said. “And soon… everyone else will, too.”

My heartbeat thundered. A heat surged beneath my skin—a tingling, electric sensation. I flexed my fingers. The cut on my hand from yesterday… gone.

Selene’s eyes flickered. “You’re faster than I expected,” she said. “And that makes things very interesting.”