PART 3- THE STRANGER WITHOUT A SOUL
2120 Words
The voice disappeared.
But its presence remained.
Soraya stood frozen in the darkness, every instinct screaming at her to move, to fight, to protect herself.
But she couldn't.
Not because she was afraid.
Because she recognized it.
The curse.
For years, it had been silent.
A shadow beneath her skin.
A whisper behind her thoughts.
A hunger she never fully understood.
It had never spoken.
Not once.
Until now.
Elias watched her carefully.
"Soraya."
She didn't answer.
Her eyes remained fixed on the empty space where the voice had come from.
"The thorn has found the flame."
The words repeated inside her mind.
Not a warning.
A prophecy.
"No," she whispered.
Elias stepped closer.
"What did it mean?"
Her gaze snapped toward him.
"You heard it?"
His expression darkened.
"Yes."
A strange chill passed through her.
Most people couldn't hear the curse.
They only saw the consequences.
The accidents.
The deaths.
The destruction left behind.
But Elias had heard it.
Which meant one thing.
He was connected.
"You shouldn't be able to."
"I know."
"Nobody can hear it."
"I know."
"Then why can you?"
Silence.
Elias looked down at the silver markings beneath his skin.
For the first time, Soraya noticed something she hadn't before.
The marks were changing.
The silver veins were glowing faintly, almost matching the same dark crimson energy that moved beneath her own skin.
Her eyes narrowed.
"Your mark."
He looked at her.
"What about it?"
"It's reacting to me."
Neither of them spoke.
Because they both understood what that meant.
Magic did not recognize strangers.
Not like this.
Soraya had spent years learning every rule of the supernatural world.
Magic had patterns.
Limits.
Consequences.
And yet Elias seemed to exist outside every rule she knew.
"You've met me before," she said.
It wasn't a question.
Elias didn't deny it.
"Yes."
Her heart tightened.
"Where?"
His jaw clenched.
"That's complicated."
A bitter laugh escaped her.
"Of course it is."
She turned away, walking toward the window.
The city stretched beneath her, millions of lights flickering like tiny stars trapped in darkness.
"Everyone who comes into my life leaves something behind."
Her voice lowered.
"Pain. Blood. A memory I can't erase."
Elias watched her.
"And what did I leave?"
She stared at their reflections in the glass.
Hers.
And his.
Together.
For some reason, they looked like they belonged.
That frightened her.
"I don't know yet."
The honesty surprised them both.
Elias moved closer, but stopped before reaching her.
A small gesture.
A choice.
He was giving her space.
Something no one ever did.
"You're afraid of me."
Soraya almost smiled.
"I don't fear you."
"No?"
"No."
She turned back.
"I fear what happens when I stop."
His expression softened.
For a moment, neither of them was a legend.
Neither of them was a curse.
They were just two broken people standing in a dark room, trying to understand why the universe had placed them in each other's path.
Then—
A crack echoed through the apartment.
Not from outside.
From beneath them.
The floor trembled.
The candles reignited one by one, but the flames burned black.
Soraya's face changed.
Impossible.
The wards.
Something was inside them.
Something that should never have been able to enter.
Elias immediately stepped in front of her.
She noticed.
"You don't even know what's coming."
"No."
His eyes darkened.
"But I know I won't let it take you."
A sound moved through the walls.
A whisper.
A growl.
A thousand voices speaking at once.
Soraya felt the magic rise beneath her skin.
The old power.
The dangerous power.
The power she spent years trying to control.
But this time...
It didn't feel angry.
It felt afraid.
Then, carved into the black glass of her window, words appeared.
Not written.
Burned.
THE FIRST THORN HAS AWAKENED.
Soraya stared at the message.
And for the first time in years...
She wasn't afraid of what she was.
She was afraid of what was coming.
The words on the window remained for only a few seconds.
Then they disappeared.
The glass returned to normal.
But Soraya knew better than anyone that some things vanished only because they wanted to be found later.
She didn't move.
"The first thorn..."
The phrase felt familiar.
Too familiar.
Like a memory buried so deeply that her mind refused to touch it.
Elias watched her carefully.
"You know what it means."
Soraya didn't answer.
That alone told him enough.
"I need you to tell me."
Her eyes snapped toward him.
"Need?"
The room temperature dropped.
"Be careful with that word."
Elias didn't flinch.
"I've learned that secrets are just weapons waiting for the right person to pick them up."
"And you think I'm the right person?"
"I think you're the only person who can stop what's coming."
She hated that answer.
Not because she disagreed.
Because some part of her already knew.
Soraya walked toward the fireplace, running her fingers along the ancient markings carved into the stone.
The apartment wasn't just a home.
It was a fortress.
A place built from years of paranoia and survival.
Every symbol.
Every protection spell.
Every locked door.
A reminder that she had spent her entire life preparing for something she couldn't name.
Until now.
"You shouldn't have come here."
Elias looked at her.
"You said that already."
"And you still don't understand."
Her voice softened.
"When people get close to me, they get hurt."
A silence followed.
Then Elias said quietly:
"Maybe people get hurt because they leave you to carry everything alone."
The words hit harder than an insult would have.
Because anger was easier.
Anger had walls.
Understanding did not.
Soraya looked away.
"You're very sure of yourself."
"No."
His answer surprised her.
"I'm terrified."
Her eyes returned to him.
"You're terrified?"
"Yes."
He glanced at the darkness beyond the windows.
"But being afraid doesn't mean running."
For a moment, she saw it.
The truth beneath him.
Not a fearless man.
A wounded one.
Someone who had lost everything and still kept walking.
She knew that kind of pain.
She just hated admitting it.
After a long pause, Soraya grabbed her coat.
Elias watched.
"Where are we going?"
"Somewhere private."
"That sounds reassuring."
"It isn't meant to be."
A faint smile appeared on his face.
There it was again.
That strange ability he had to make her forget, even briefly, that she was supposed to be untouchable.
She hated it.
Almost as much as she liked it.
---
The Hollow was different when the doors were locked.
Without the crowd.
Without the music.
Without hundreds of desperate people searching for distractions...
The place showed its true face.
Ancient.
Silent.
Watching.
Soraya walked through the empty club, her footsteps echoing across the floor.
Elias followed.
"You own this place?"
"No."
"Then why does everyone listen to you?"
She glanced back.
"Because they know better."
They reached the bar.
Soraya placed her hand beneath the counter and pressed against a hidden symbol carved into the wood.
The floor shifted.
A hidden staircase revealed itself.
Elias looked down into the darkness below.
"Of course."
Soraya raised an eyebrow.
"What?"
"Your secret room is underneath a nightclub."
"Disappointed?"
"No."
He looked at her.
"Actually, that makes perfect sense."
She almost smiled.
Almost.
They descended.
The air changed immediately.
The deeper they went, the older the magic became.
The walls were covered in symbols that predated Ashveldt itself.
Candles lined the path, lighting one after another as Soraya walked.
At the bottom waited a circular room.
No windows.
No exits.
Only ancient books, black candles, and a stone table carved with forgotten languages.
Elias looked around.
"This is where you hide."
Soraya corrected him.
"This is where I remember."
He turned toward her.
"Remember what?"
She stared at the symbols on the walls.
"Who I was before everyone decided what I am."
The silence between them was heavy.
Then she faced him.
"Now."
Her voice became colder.
"You're going to answer my questions."
Elias nodded.
"And if I don't?"
Soraya stepped closer.
The flames around the room rose.
"Then you'll learn why this city calls me a monster."
For the first time...
Elias looked at her not with curiosity.
Not with fascination.
But with something far more dangerous.
Respect.
"Ask."
Soraya stared into his eyes.
"What are you?"
Elias didn't answer immediately.
The silence stretched between them, broken only by the soft crackle of candlelight.
Soraya waited.
She had learned years ago that silence was often more revealing than words.
People lied.
Silence rarely did.
Elias slowly walked around the circular chamber, his fingertips grazing the carved stone walls. Ancient runes shimmered beneath his touch before fading again.
"You've been here a long time," he murmured.
Soraya watched him carefully.
"Long enough."
"You built this?"
"No."
"Then who did?"
"My mother."
The confession slipped out before she could stop it.
Elias looked back at her.
"You've never talked about her."
"You've never given me a reason to."
He nodded once.
"Fair."
Soraya folded her arms.
"I asked you a question."
"I know."
"What are you?"
Elias exhaled slowly.
"When I was seventeen, I believed death was the enemy."
His voice echoed softly through the chamber.
"I spent months searching for anything that could save my brother."
He walked toward one of the old bookshelves, his eyes lingering on a cracked leather-bound grimoire.
"I found stories."
"Witchcraft?"
"Worse."
Soraya's expression darkened.
"There are older things than witches."
"I know."
"There are older things than demons."
"I know."
"There are things that existed before magic had a name."
Elias finally met her gaze.
"They answered me."
A chill crawled up Soraya's spine.
She knew exactly what he meant.
Not gods.
Not spirits.
Primordials.
The First Ones.
Beings so ancient that even the oldest covens refused to speak of them.
"You called to them?"
"I begged."
"And they answered?"
"They offered me a bargain."
Soraya's stomach tightened.
Nothing offered by the First Ones was ever free.
"What did they ask for?"
"My soul."
"And you agreed."
"I didn't even hesitate."
The room fell quiet again.
Soraya understood that kind of love.
The desperate kind.
The kind that ignored consequences because consequences didn't matter if the person you loved was gone.
"What happened after the ritual?"
Elias stared at his own hands.
"My brother opened his eyes."
Hope flickered across Soraya's face.
Then she saw his expression.
The hope disappeared.
"It wasn't him."
"No."
His voice cracked for the first time.
"He remembered my name."
A long pause.
"He remembered our childhood."
Another pause.
"He smiled exactly the way he always had."
Soraya listened without interrupting.
"But when he hugged me..."
Elias swallowed hard.
"...his heartbeat never came back."
The words settled over the room like snowfall.
"He wasn't alive," Soraya whispered.
"No."
"What was he?"
"I still don't know."
Soraya looked down at the stone floor.
For the first time, she understood why Elias carried so much sadness.
He hadn't simply lost his brother.
He had watched hope become horror.
"I should have let him go," he said quietly.
"But I couldn't."
Soraya closed the distance between them.
Not close enough to touch.
Just close enough that he wouldn't have to carry the memory alone.
"You were seventeen."
His eyes lifted.
"You loved him."
He blinked.
"You were a child trying to bargain with grief."
Something changed in his expression.
Not relief.
Recognition.
No one had ever said those words to him before.
Soraya wasn't excusing what he'd done.
She was acknowledging why he'd done it.
"I've spent years punishing myself," Elias admitted.
"I know."
"No..."
He looked directly into her eyes.
"I don't think you do."
Soraya held his gaze.
"You think you're the only one carrying ghosts?"
The question lingered.
Then, slowly, she reached toward the high collar of her dress.
Elias frowned.
"What are you doing?"
Without a word, Soraya pulled the fabric aside.
Just enough to reveal the base of her neck.
A black mark spread beneath her skin like twisting vines.
Thin thorns wrapped around her collarbone before disappearing beneath the silk of her dress.
They weren't tattoos.
They moved.
Slowly.
As though something beneath her skin was breathing.
Elias's face lost all color.
"No..."
He took one hesitant step forward.
"It can't be."
"You've seen it before."
He didn't answer.
He couldn't.
His eyes remained fixed on the living thorns beneath her skin.
"I thought it was only a legend," he whispered.
Soraya's heartbeat quickened.
"You know what this is?"
Elias finally looked at her.
His voice was barely audible.
"I know who gave it to you."
Every candle in the chamber went out.
Neither of them noticed.
Because in that single moment...
Everything Soraya believed about her past began to unravel.
- Writer
