Say You Hate Me Again
1560 Words
The voice echoed through the darkness.
“I’ve waited eighteen years…”
A slow, mocking laugh followed.
“…for this family reunion.”
Every candle in the chamber extinguished at once.
Only the pale glow from Elena’s notebook remained, casting silver light across the ancient stone walls.
Lucien stepped forward, placing himself between Elena and the staircase.
“Stay behind me.”
Elena opened her mouth to argue.
Then she saw his expression.
Not fear.
Calculation.
He was listening.
Counting.
Waiting.
The old man—the sixth founder—closed the wooden box and slipped it back into Elena’s hands.
“Keep the pendant hidden.”
“Who is he?” Elena whispered.
The old man’s eyes remained fixed on the darkness.
“The only founder who was never invited.”
Adrian frowned.
“There were only six.”
“So everyone believed.”
The footsteps resumed.
Slow.
Measured.
Then a figure emerged from the shadows.
He was tall, dressed in a dark coat dusted with ash, his face partly concealed beneath the hood.
His hands were empty.
Yet every instinct in the chamber warned that he was the most dangerous person they had encountered.
His gaze settled on the sixth founder.
“You’ve gotten old.”
“So have you.”
The newcomer smiled.
“The difference is…”
He lowered his hood.
“…I embraced it.”
A long scar ran from his temple to his jaw.
His gray eyes seemed almost colorless in the dim light.
Elena had never seen him before.
Lucien clearly had.
“You should’ve stayed dead.”
The stranger laughed softly.
“You tried very hard to make that happen.”
“I tried to stop you.”
“No.”
The man’s smile vanished.
“You chose them over me.”
Silence spread through the chamber.
The accusation lingered in the air.
Elena looked at Lucien.
“What is he talking about?”
Lucien didn’t answer.
Instead, the sixth founder spoke.
“He believes he was betrayed.”
“I was betrayed,” the stranger snapped.
His eyes found Elena.
“Do you know what your mother did?”
Lucien’s voice cut through the chamber like steel.
“Leave Sophia out of this.”
“Why?”
The stranger took another step.
“She made her choice.”
“And you made yours.”
“She chose you.”
His gaze shifted back to Elena.
“And now history is repeating itself.”
Elena frowned.
“I don’t even know you.”
“No.”
His expression softened with something almost resembling pity.
“But you will.”
He reached into his coat.
Every weapon in the room rose instantly.
Instead of a gun, he withdrew a faded photograph.
He tossed it across the floor.
It slid to Elena’s feet.
She picked it up carefully.
It was another old family photograph.
This one hadn’t been altered.
Seven people stood together.
Sophia.
Marcus.
Amelia.
Sebastian.
The sixth founder.
A teenage Lucien.
And the stranger.
No one had been erased.
No faces scratched away.
They were all smiling.
“They were a family,” Elena whispered.
“They were,” the stranger replied.
“Until they decided one of us was expendable.”
Lucien’s jaw tightened.
“You left us no choice.”
“I gave you every choice.”
The stranger looked directly at Elena.
“Ask him.”
His voice became almost gentle.
“Ask Lucien who lit the fire that changed everything.”
The chamber fell silent.
Elena slowly turned toward Lucien.
His face remained unreadable.
“Is he lying?”
Lucien didn’t answer immediately.
Finally, he spoke.
“No.”
A chill ran through the room.
“He isn’t lying.”
The admission stunned everyone.
Adrian looked at Lucien in disbelief.
“You never told me that.”
“There was nothing to tell.”
The stranger laughed bitterly.
“Still protecting everyone except yourself.”
Lucien met Elena’s eyes.
“I started the fire.”
Before Elena could process the confession, he continued.
“But not for the reason he wants you to believe.”
The stranger’s smile returned.
“Go on.”
He folded his arms.
“Tell her the rest.”
Far above them, another explosion shook the mansion.
Dust drifted from the ceiling.
The old man looked toward the staircase.
“We’re out of time.”
The stranger nodded once.
“Exactly.”
He looked at Elena one final time.
“Go ahead.”
His voice was quiet.
“Say you hate him again.”
“But this time…”
He glanced at Lucien.
“…you’ll finally know what you’re hating him for.”
Elena’s fingers tightened around the photograph.
Her eyes moved from the smiling faces in the picture to the man standing before her.
Then to Lucien.
The silence stretched painfully between them.
Finally, she spoke.
“Tell me.”
Lucien didn’t look away.
“I will.”
The stranger folded his arms, watching with quiet satisfaction.
“Eighteen years ago,” Lucien began, “the mansion wasn’t just a home. It was where the founders gathered to protect the Covenant and the families tied to it.”
“The Directorate had already discovered us.”
Sebastian nodded slowly.
“They had spies everywhere.”
Lucien continued.
“One night, we learned they were coming.”
“We didn’t know when.”
“We didn’t know how many.”
“But we knew they would find this place eventually.”
Elena listened without interrupting.
“I was eighteen,” Lucien said. “Young enough to believe I could solve everything with one decision.”
“What decision?”
His gaze dropped briefly to the floor.
“I set the west wing on fire.”
The words echoed through the chamber.
“It was supposed to be a distraction.”
“The flames would force everyone to evacuate while Sebastian destroyed the records.”
Sebastian closed his eyes.
“That was the plan.”
“But plans don’t always survive the first mistake.”
Lucien’s voice grew quieter.
“The fire spread faster than anyone expected.”
“The hidden passages became blocked.”
“The smoke…”
He stopped for a moment.
“…trapped people who should have escaped.”
Elena felt her heart sink.
“My mother…”
“Sophia stayed behind.”
Lucien’s expression hardened with grief that had clearly never left him.
“Not because she was trapped.”
“She went back.”
“Why?”
“To save you.”
The old man nodded solemnly.
“You were only a child.”
Lucien looked at Elena again.
“She found you.”
“She got you out.”
“And then she went back one last time.”
“For what?”
No one answered immediately.
It was Amelia who finally whispered,
“For the journal.”
Elena blinked.
“The founder’s journal?”
Amelia nodded through tears.
“She believed it could never fall into the wrong hands.”
The stranger gave a slow clap.
“A beautiful version of the story.”
Lucien’s eyes flashed with anger.
“It’s the truth.”
“No.”
The stranger stepped closer.
“It’s part of the truth.”
He looked directly at Elena.
“Ask him who locked the eastern gate.”
Lucien’s jaw clenched.
“I did.”
“And who ordered everyone to leave before counting the survivors?”
“I did.”
“And who carried that guilt for eighteen years without telling anyone why?”
Lucien said nothing.
Because he couldn’t deny it.
The chamber grew unbearably quiet.
Elena felt torn between anger and sympathy.
He had made terrible decisions.
But every one of them had been made while trying to save people.
She finally took a slow breath.
“I don’t hate you.”
The stranger’s smile disappeared.
“What?”
“I said…”
She met Lucien’s eyes.
“I don’t hate you.”
Lucien looked genuinely surprised.
“You should.”
“No.”
She shook her head.
“I hate what happened.”
“I hate that people died.”
“I hate that my mother is gone.”
Her voice trembled.
“But I don’t think an eighteen-year-old carrying the weight of everyone else’s lives deserved to carry that guilt alone forever.”
For the first time since she had met him, Lucien looked as though he didn’t know what to say.
The stranger, however, looked furious.
“You’ve learned nothing.”
He took one deliberate step backward.
“You still believe people deserve redemption.”
The old man frowned.
“Leave now.”
The stranger ignored him.
Instead, he smiled at Elena with unsettling calm.
“Very well.”
“If you won’t hate him…”
He reached into his pocket and placed a small metal device on the floor.
“…perhaps you’ll hate yourselves for what comes next.”
A single red light on the device began to blink.
Slowly.
Steadily.
Adrian’s eyes widened.
“That’s not a bomb.”
“No,” Lucien said, recognizing it instantly.
“It’s a beacon.”
The blinking accelerated.
Somewhere deep beneath the chamber, dozens of distant lights answered.
One after another.
Someone—or something—had just been given their exact location.
And it was already on its way.
- Writer
