whispers of a sinful heart

Bodies!

Two of them, sprawled lifeless on the forest floor. Their limbs twisted unnaturally. Blood seeped into the earth, dark and glistening beneath the fading light. The metallic scent thickened the air, making her stomach churn.

A third man still lived. But not for long.

A figure stood over him, tall and commanding. The dim light barely touched him, but what she saw was enough to paralyze her.

He was... beautiful. Unnaturally so.

Dark hair, tousled yet effortlessly perfect. A framed face sculpted with sharp, aristocratic angles. His black clothing blended with the darkening sky, and his posture was relaxed, almost lazy, as if the scene of death was nothing than a mild inconvenience.

And then she saw his hand.... Buried deep in the living man's chest.

A sickening squelch echoed through the trees as the man's body jerked violently. His scream never came_. Only a gurgling wet gasp as his eyes rolled back.

The dark haired young man twisted his wrist slightly, his hand curling around something.

Something vital.

Larissa's mind barely had time to register what she was seeing before the man pulled his hand free.

The dying man slumped foward, his mouth parted in silent cry. His body crumpled alongside the others, lifeless.

Larissa stumbled back, her legs trembling. Her breath came in short, ragged gasps, the world spinning.

Blood. So much blood.

Her stomach lurched violently. She turned and staggered away, barely making it to a nearby tree before she doubled over. Her body rejected the horror she had just witnessed, and she heaved until her throat burned.

Shaking, she wiped her mouth, willing herself to move. When she dared to glance over her shoulder, she saw him looking at her. His face gave away nothing, but she could not ignore the eerieness that surrounded him.

His posture remained relaxed..., still. Like a predator that was deciding on whether to give a chase.

She could not stay there, therefore, she turned on her heel and fled. Branches snagged at her dress and wind whipping against her skin. The path blurred beneath her feet as she ran, her heartbeat pounding in her ears.

She didn't stop, not until she saw the distant lights of her home.

The memory of the gore was still fresh in her mind... It made her dizzy. Why would someone kill so cruelly?!

Larissa barely registered how she got home.

Her mind remained trapped in the horror she had witnessed, the blood, the lifeless bodies, and the man_ no, the creature_ who had stood among them like a reaper in the night.

The moment she reached the house, she rushed inside, her breath uneven, hands trembling as she shut the door behind her. The wooden frame felt flimsy beneath her grip, offering no real protection from the nightmare lurking beyond.

Her legs were weak, her body exhausted, but she forced herself up the stairs. Each step felt heavier than the last, and by the time she reached her room, she barely had strength to close the door before collapsing onto her bed.

Her heartbeat hadn't slowed.

The image of him_ His inky black eyes, the way his fingers had twisted inside a man's chest, the heart torn free_. Seared into her mind. She shut her eyes, but the darkness only made it worse. The scene replayed behind her eye lids. Just as vivid, just as horrifying.

Her stomach churned again. The nausea hadn't fully left her.

She swallowed thickly and curled into herself, gripping the blanket in a white knuckled grasp.

Breath.., just breath.

Minutes passed, maybe longer. She didn't know. Her body was still weak, but just as her limbs began to relax, just as exhaustion threatened to pull her under, a sharp voice shattered the fragile quiet.

"Larissa!"

She flinched, her heart leaping.

Aunt Miriam.

Downstairs, her aunt stood by the kitchen doorway, arms crossed, her expression twisted with impatience.

"Took you long enough." She snapped. "Dinner won't cook itself."

Larissa swallowed her exhaustion, her emotions, everything that had made her feel human at the moment. She simply nodded and headed to the kitchen.

Her hands trembled as she worked. Chopping vegetables, tending to the fire, stirring the pot_ it was all mechanical. She barely noticed the scent of the food. Her appetite long gone.

'No, stop thinking about it.."

The more she said that, the more the memory haunted her. " How could she forget?"

A shiver ran through her but she forced herself to finish cooking.

When the food was ready, she stepped back, moving aside as her aunt and uncle entered the dining room.

Marielle walked in last, her expression smug as she took her seat. No one acknowledged Larissa, as usual.

She stood there for a moment before she decided to leave.

She was now back to her room. Back to the only place where she could pretend, even for a little while, that the world outside didn't exist.

She didn't hear them calling after her. Didn't care if they did.

The moment she reached her bed, she collapsed onto it, exhaustion pulling at her limbs.

The night was quiet, the house had settled. She should have felt safe, but she didn't because the moment she closed her eyes, the nightmare began.

It wasn't a dream, it wasn't something conjured by a restless mind.

It was a memory.

Crystal clear. Unforgiving.

She was back to the deserted path.

The trees were taller this time, their twisted branches reaching for her like skeletal fingers.

The scent of blood hung heavier, thick and suffocating.

And then, there he stood. A shadow among the dead.

His black eyes found hers immediately, piercing through the distance through the darkness until it felt as if they were the only two in existence.

He took a step forward. Then another. She wanted to run, but her body wouldn't move.

Her breath came in short, shallow gasps.

He was right in front of her. Close enough that she could see his cold blank face. Then he raised his bloody hand, reaching out to her chest, but before he could hurt her, she jolted awake.

A gasp tore from her lips as she shot up, her body coated in a thin sheen of sweat.

The room was dark.

She was safe.

But the feeling of those black eyes watching her lingered.

She clutched the blanket, her fingers trembling.

She had to forget.

She needed to forget. But deep down, she knew she couldn't. She could not unsee what she had seen..