The Beast From Her Nightmares

Hades

I entered our shared bedroom, Ellen already taking her position on the ground. She shot up at the sound of my footsteps, her eyes wide and bleary.

"Hades..." she murmured, getting up, slightly groggy.

Every other damning, dreadful thought evaporated at the sound of her voice.

My heart clenched at the hoarseness of it, and I momentarily glanced at the easel in the corner—used to paint—only to stop dead in my tracks just as I enveloped her in my arms.

She had painted today. It should have been good news, seeing that she was falling back into her routine so soon, despite all the signs that pointed to the contrary.

She buried her head in my chest, her frame smaller—probably because of how little she ate. The Flux tried to escape, to curl around her as my arms did, but I didn't let it. These days, it was just insufferable.