NINTEEN
885 Words
🕊️ Chapter 19 – The Ghost of Montemayor
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The warehouse had fallen silent.
The broken bulbs flickered weakly, like eyes watching from the darkness.
Althea held Lyka’s soaked notebook in her trembling hands.
Between its fragile, water-stained pages were names she once thought belonged only to rumors and nightmares:
Project Eterna. Clarisse Navarro Montemayor. Lea Sandoval Madrigal.
> “I don’t know what to believe anymore,” Althea whispered.
“Everything you’ve told me… it feels like a waking nightmare.”
Beside her, Xavier held a torn photograph found on the table—
a picture of Clarisse and a young girl: Lyka.
On the back were scrawled the words:
“Prototype 002 – RS Unit.”
> “They used people as experiments,” Xavier muttered.
“And their so-called ‘Eterna Project’—it’s like they’re trying to play God.”
Marco, wiping the blood from his forehead, let out a short breath.
> “If that’s true, we can’t stay here. Clarisse’s people know this place.
Once they come back, we’re done.”
But Althea didn’t move.
Her eyes were fixed on the door where Lyka had walked out minutes ago.
Each drop of rain outside sounded like footsteps fading into the distance.
> “I can’t let her go,” she whispered. “She’s my sister.”
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Minutes later, the sound of a gunshot shattered the silence.
Then came the screech of tires—a black van stopping outside.
Marco peeked through the cracks and cursed.
> “Montemayor security. Five armed men. This isn’t just a chase anymore.”
Xavier picked up a gun from the floor and looked at Althea.
> “If we’re going to save Lyka, we need to move now.”
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Outside, the night looked like a living nightmare.
Lyka stood in the middle of the rain, her hands bloodied, her gun still raised.
Behind her, the headlights of Clarisse’s van glared like spotlights in a tragedy.
> “Lyka Reyes Sandoval,” came the cold, steady voice of a woman from inside the van.
“Put down the weapon. You are not the enemy.”
Lyka let out a bitter smile.
> “I stopped believing in words like ‘friend’ and ‘enemy,’ Clarisse.
In your world, they mean the same thing.”
The van door opened.
Out stepped Clarisse Navarro Montemayor—the woman who once saved her, and the very reason she was broken now.
She wore a black trench coat, drenched in rain, yet her face showed no fear.
> “You don’t have to end this violently, Lyka,” Clarisse said, her tone calm but commanding.
“Come with me. I’ll erase your file. No one will ever look for you again. You’ll be free.”
Lyka shook her head, eyes burning with anger and tears.
> “How can I ever be free when you’re the one who forged my chains?”
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Then came the rush of footsteps—Althea, Xavier, and Marco racing through the rain.
> “Lyka! Stop this!” Althea screamed. Her voice trembled. “This isn’t what Mama wanted!”
For a second, Lyka froze.
The sound of her mother’s name pierced through the storm like light through fog.
Somewhere deep inside her, something pure flickered back to life.
But it was too late.
Behind Clarisse, a shadow moved—
a sniper, waiting atop the van, finger on the trigger.
> “No!” Xavier shouted, pulling Althea close.
The gun fired.
And in that single heartbeat, Lyka threw herself forward—
straight into the bullet’s path.
The gunshot echoed with the thunder above.
Everything stopped.
Lyka fell to her knees, blood staining her hands as the rain turned crimson.
> “Ate…” she whispered, still smiling faintly.
“I told you… it’s safer to be a ghost.”
> “Lyka! No! Somebody help me!” Althea cried, cradling her sister’s body in her arms.
Lyka smiled weakly, her eyes soft, almost peaceful.
> “Tell Mama… I’m finally free.”
And as the rain wept over them, Lyka closed her eyes—
her final breath dissolving into the storm.
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When they lifted Lyka’s lifeless body into the vehicle, Xavier turned to Clarisse, who stood silently at the side, drenched and expressionless.
> “You don’t have the right to cry,” he said coldly.
“You turned an innocent soul into a weapon.
But remember this, Clarisse—every secret you bury will one day rise again.”
Clarisse met his gaze, her eyes sharp yet shadowed with grief.
> “You have no idea what you’ve started, Xavier.
Once the door to Eterna is opened… it can never be closed.”
Then she turned away, stepped back into her van, and vanished into the storm—
like a ghost swallowed by the dark.
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Inside the warehouse, Althea picked up Lyka’s notebook once more.
The final page was soaked, but the ink still lingered—
faint words that carried her sister’s final truth:
> “The ghost of Montemayor is not truly dead—
it lives within every secret they try to hide.”
And in that silence, amid the dripping rain and the echo of lost voices,
a new chapter of vengeance and revelation began.
- Writer
