Death Denied

Chapter 26: Hatred



The glade was utterly quiet again.

Only the slow dripping of blood echoed—soft splashes as crimson fell from what little remained of Ren's ruined body. His corpse was barely recognizable now. Limbs twisted and skin shredded. His face, once clenched with fury and grief, was completely still.

But even that wouldn't last.

Ren's fingers twitched.

It was beginning again.

His ribs cracked as they began knitting back together. Bone scraped against bone. The exposed nerves along his legs pulsed with light, thin filaments of flesh slithering over splintered bones like worms burrowing back into soil.

His spine straightened with a crunch.

One of his eyes reformed—like watching ice melt in reverse, starting as a pale orb that deepened with color. The socket sucked it into place with a wet squelch. A few seconds later, the other eye followed.

And then, a breath.

A violent, wheezing inhale as Ren's back arched off the ground, like wind forced through a broken flute. His mouth opened as his head turned slowly, blood still leaking from the seams of his scalp. To his side was the sword, its hilt still sticky with his bloody fingerprint.

He reached for it with no hesitation.

Fingers curled around the leather grip as he lifted himself from the ground.

Nocstella still stood at the far edge of the glade—her back to him now.

Ren began to walk forward, slowly upping his tempo into a full sprint.

"You seem irritated," She said, her voice quiet, yet very clear. "Tell me, Hollow…is it beginning to show?"

Tendrils burst from the ground, reacting to her voice—coiling like serpents, then lashing toward him with unnatural speed.

Ren dodged left, barely avoiding the first.

It sliced through the air inches from his cheek, tearing open the side of his cloak.

Another tendril shot low, aiming to trip him, but he vaulted over it, landing hard and stumbling forward. His eyes were dead set on Nocstella.

She turned around to face him.

"Is this anger I feel? That sudden tightness in your chest? That desire to scream?"

A tendril lashed toward his sternum.

He ducked under it and rolled, coming out of the roll swinging his sword, cleaving through one of the smaller tendrils. It shrieked as it recoiled, severed at the tip.

She tilted her head, curious.

"Hmmm, you're starting to feel it again...somehow." She said in a questioning voice. "It seems your hatred runs deeper than I imagined, Hollow."

Another tendril lashed out—this one slower, more deliberate.

Ren jumped over it, slashing his blade down as he fell, severing it at its base. He hit the ground hard, rolled back to his feet, and sprinted again.

"Your hatred...for your father came easy." She said plainly. "The beatings...The yelling..."

Another tendril shot toward him, side-stepping just in time to dodge it.

"You wanted him dead," She said. "You wanted someone to do it. But no one ever did."

Ren closed the gap between them, raised the sword, and leapt forward.

But a tendril shot up from the ground just in front of her, snagging his ankle mid-air and slamming him spine-first into the grass with enough force to crater the soil.

Blood erupted from his mouth on impact.

"And your mother…" Noctsella whispered. "You hate her too, don't you?"

"No..." Ren responded in a shaky tone, his eyes flicking up.

Not at her, but at the tendril hovering above his face.

He rolled hard to the left—just missing its strike—and forced himself back up to his knees.

"That's the wound, isn't it?" She asked. "You never wanted to, but...deep down, you resented your mother for leaving."

Ren gripped his sword with both hands, arms trembling with effort.

"You didn't want to feel it. You wanted to forgive her. Pretend she had no choice."

Another tendril struck and nearly impaled him.

He stepped aside in time and drove his sword down, nailing it to the ground.

"You needed her. Called for her. And she didn't come." Nocstella said while closing her eyes shut. "She left you. She looked at you, saw you crying, and still chose to leave."

Ren let out a strangled breath—half-growl, half-sob—and kept charging.

The glade trembled with another wave of tendrils—dozens rising like reeds from every angle.

But Ren didn't slow down.

"Though you say nothing in this moment," Nocstella said, holding a hand over her chest. "I hear the truth in your hollowed soul."

The tendrils acted, cascading down on him.

Ren gritted his teeth and plunged into them.

The first slammed him in the gut.

He coughed blood, but his sword cut through it as he was launched backward, carving out a jagged black arc in the air. He landed hard again—on his back, gasping, the wind knocked from his lungs. Blood ran down his side as he staggered back to his knees.

She began to approach, slowly opening her eyes again.

"She left me…" Ren whimpered while holding tears back, not even sure if he'd spoken aloud. "But she loved me...It wasn't her fault. It wasn't..."

"She loved you?" Nocstella asked, her voice thick with a mocking sadness. "She loved you, you say? Oh, Hollow...is that why she left you alone in a house full of monsters? She chose the rope over you. Her suffering over yours. Her freedom over your life. And now—now you cling to this idea that it was love?"

She paused for a moment, letting her words sink in.

"No, Hollow. That wasn't love. That was abandonment. And somewhere inside you…you know that's the truth."

"You're not wrong..." Ren murmured, holding a hand over his wounded stomach. "She left me alone in that house."

Nocstella tilted her head to the side.

"She loved me and still left," Ren said, his voice dropping lower. "It hurts..."

The tendrils quivered, like snakes sensing a shift in the air.

"I hate that she gave up," Ren stated, standing up straight. "I hate that she looked at me and decided she couldn't take it anymore. I hate that she left me alone with that monster."

Nocstella smiled gently.

"So you've come to..."

But Ren didn't stop walking, his gaze dead set on her.

"You talk about truth like it's something I've been running from. But I've lived in that truth. Drowned in it. Every night, every dream—I wake up wondering about the last thing she saw. Was she scared? Was she pleased? Did she think of me at all when she tied the rope?"

His hands trembled against the hilt.

"Making me hate her doesn't break me...it pisses me off."

The lurking tendrils twitched, but Nocstella remained still.

He kept marching forward.

"I love her...more than anything," Ren said, wiping a tear from his eye. "You wanted me to collapse under the truth. But that truth is why I'm still standing."


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