Chapter 7. Ashes and Alcohol
1043 Words
The Loyalty Bar screen floated in Cain’s vision like a ghost he couldn’t punch.
Rows of glowing options danced in digital stillness.
[LOYALTY POINTS: 102]
[Available Upgrades: Stealth Bonus (LV1) – 300 LP
Intimidation Protocol (Passive) – 500 LP
Pinpoint Betrayal Detection – 600 LP
Adaptive Mind Enhancement – 1,000 LP]
[LOCKED] – Loyalty Points Insufficient.]
Cain exhaled quietly, unimpressed.
He shut it down with a blink.
His head pulsed then screamed.
A stabbing migraine cracked behind his eyes. He staggered back, leaning on the wall of the abandoned hideout, fingertips trembling.
Then her voice.
“Cain… you said you'd quit.”
Amelia.
She stood in front of him. Her hair was just as it was the last night they spent together messy bun, soft eyes, that crooked smile.
He blinked.
Blood smeared her belly. The baby bump was gone. Her voice was glitching crackling through the silence like a bad signal on a broken radio.
“You’re going to kill me all over again…”
He grabbed his head. “s**t, I'm finally going mad. Get out of my mind!”
Amelia flickered. One frame she was close, the next she was burning. Like the night the fire swallowed her. The smell of ash was choking.
Then came the System.
[WARNING: HALLUCINATION DETECTED!!! MENTAL STABILITY FALTERING.]
[SYSTEM NOTICE: Damage caused by self-harm (i.e., emotional trauma, excessive smoking, neglect) may reduce host lifespan and skill efficiency.]
[RECOMMENDATION: Regulate emotions.]
[Cain's Response: Denied.]
He lit the cigarette anyway.
Long drag.
Exhale.
The ghost of Amelia vanished in the smoke.
Cain sat in the dark with his thoughts until one burned brighter than the others today would’ve been her birthday.
And their child… would’ve been born this week.
He grabbed his coat, slid his mask on, and left. No word to Elara. No ping to the system.
He wanted to disappear for one night.
Red Pulse Club: 12:17 AM
The bass was alive. Walls pulsed with synths and neon. People ground against each other in flickers of pink, blue, and gold.
Cain slid into the VIP section like smoke unseen but heavy. His mask hid the hollowness in his eyes.
He drank like he was trying to erase his soul. Shot after shot of something brutal.
The club owner noticed the mysterious, well-dressed figure and called over the girls.
Two approached with fake laughs and bolder touches. Cain didn't move.
"You're quiet," one purred, sliding onto his lap.
Cain didn't speak. He simply stared at his expression, unreadable, detached.
The girl leaned in.
“I bet I can make you smile-”
A loud crash. Shouting. Someone had pulled a gun. Chaos rippled fast.
Cain stood slowly, face still numb. The men threatening the room laughed at him.
“You don’t even flinch, mask boy. You think you’re special?”
Cain’s voice was flat. “Leave.”
They laughed. Wrong move. Foolish.
Then came the gunshots.
Cain moved like a shadow with fangs. Quick, clean. Bullets flew. Screams followed.
Two bodies dropped.
Cain stood over them, blood splattered on his sleeves, gun still smoking.
Elara pushed through the crowd. “Cain!”
He didn’t look at her. Just returned to his drink and took another shot, blood on his collar.
“You’re crying,” Elara whispered.
He wasn’t aware until she said it. The tears had already dried. “I'm fine, you can go back, there's nothing to worry about, besides I can take care of myself.”
Although reluctant, Elara knew it would be best to leave him alone.
Backroom: 1:03 AM
Cain closed his eyes, alone again in a velvet booth behind a curtain.
Then a rustle.
He opened them to find a skinny girl early twenties, pale, bruised hands reaching for his wallet.
Caught.
She froze. Her mouth opened, but he beat her to it.
“Looking for something?” he asked.
She didn’t run. Just glared.
“What? You were passed out drunk. You rich types don’t even notice.”
Cain smirked, just slightly. “So brave. For a rat.”
She bristled. “And you’re what? A corpse pretending to breathe?”
He leaned forward. “Touche. Before I change my mind.”
She stared… then dropped his wallet on the table and stormed out.
[SYSTEM NOTICE: No readable data. Subject profile inaccessible.]
Cain frowned. Odd.
Outside: 2:00 AM
Cain stepped out into the alley behind the club, the night's chill sobering him halfway. Then he saw her again.
The same girl this time was surrounded.
Three men.
“You think you can run, Ivy?” one hissed. “You owe.”
“I paid in sweat and blood. You don’t own me.”
“Then you’ll pay in flesh.”
Slap.
Cain was going to walk past. Was.
Until one of them said his name.
“That’s the guy who got you fired.”
Cain froze.
He walked in slowly. The cigarette is still between his lips.
One of the thugs turned. “Hey ”
Cain broke his nose with the butt of his gun. Three movements later, bones shattered. Two more screams.
The girl looked at him like he wasn’t real.
“...You helped me.”
“I didn’t,” Cain said coldly. “They just annoyed me.”
“You… said a name in your sleep,” she muttered. “Amelia, right?”
Cain’s jaw tightened.
She stepped closer. “I know something that can help. Something strong. The kind of drink that burns away ghosts. Just… let me help. On the house.”
Cain didn’t speak. Just a long face with doubt.
“A swindler?” He wondered.
Next Morning
He woke to the sound of traffic.
Dim apartment. Dust in the air.
Naked.
The girl lay beside him. Her arms wrapped around a pillow like a lifeline.
Cain stared at the ceiling.
“f**k…” he muttered. “I really messed up.”
The System pinged softly.
[Emotional state: Disoriented. Mental recalibration suggested.]
[Potential new ally detected. Profiling initiated…]
[Name: Ivy Rowe.
Loyalty Level: Unreadable.
Status: Unknown.
Analysis: Threat!!!]
A surprise, to think he would live to see a day the system glitches and freaks out in frustration. Cain closed his eyes, one arm over his face, the other gripping the sheet.
“f**k!”
- Writer
