44. the smile behind the curtain

The sound of the rain could still be heard from the silent room . The sound of dripping water echoed through the cracked church walls.

Carlos stood taking a step back from the makeshift bed, bathed in weak candlelight. He wore the smile of a man who thought he'd won—but his eyes flicked, restless, uncertain.

Marisol sat up brushing her hair from her face, her other wrist resting loosely on her knee. One eye dull, the other—a faint, glowing amber—watched him. Unblinking.

Carlos grinned ear to ear, stepping forward like he was greeting an old friend. "Carlos," he said with a bow, hand pressed over his heart. "I know this is a lot, but... it's good to finally meet you properly, Marisol."

For a long moment, she said nothing.

Her golden eye flared faintly as it locked onto him — unblinking, unafraid.

Marisol's lips curled, but not into a smile. "I know who you are."

The words hung there, cold and flat.

Carlos blinked. That wasn't the reaction he rehearsed.

"Our goddess," he added quickly, gesturing around like it meant something. "You're safe here."

Her gaze didn't move. "Don't call me that."

The air shifted — heavy, suffocating.

Carlos cleared his throat, searching for the thread of the conversation slipping through his fingers. "I just meant... we're the same, you and me."

Marisol scoffed — a sharp, humorless sound. "No. We're not."

The silence that followed was absolute.

Carlos shifted his weight, lips parting—then closing again.

"You know… I never wanted it to go down like that," he began, his words carefully chosen. "Aiden… was a good guy. But that's what happens in war. Casualties. Unavoidable."

He waited—testing the air, expecting a scream or sob. Marisol gave him neither.

Marisol , her voice quiet, but it cut clean through the space between them: "If you're done… start talking. Why am I really here?"

He stood perplexed starring into her one amber eye. This line of questioning wasn't right he thought to himself. Could one eye really make that much of a difference?

Her voice came soft, steady bringing him back to the moment. "Is Garrison alive?"

Carlos blinked. "What?"

"Is he alive?"

Carlos forced a chuckle, waving a hand as if brushing off the question. "Of course. He's fine. I'm not a monster, Marisol. Unlike my creator."

A pause.

Marisol gave him little to work with.

Carlos knelt, lowering his voice like he was sharing a secret. "Mephisto… you don't see it yet, do you? What he really is? You think I'm the manipulator. But he—he made you feel like you're special just to use you. Same way he made those things… me, my familia. The things he calls servants."

Marisol's amber eye flickered. "Then why didn't you stop him instead of kidnapping me?"

Carlos's lips pressed tight. "Because I was building this—" He gestured broadly at the hollow church, the flickering lights, the empty pews. "A place. A future. A way home."

"Home?" Marisol echoed, her gaze sharp now. "Do you mean the Otherworld?"

Carlos's smile faltered skipping ahead in his inner script, but he recovered. "Yeah… our true home. My familia… we're not meant for this world, Mari. You know that."

"You know nothing of the otherworld," Marisol said sternly, her brow furrowed. "You talk about home like you've got a place in it—but you don't. You don't belong here. You don't belong anywhere."

"You think I don't know where we belong?" Carlos said, his voice low, teeth barely unclenched. "We all know. Mephisto made sure of it—his memories, his will, his damn curse—it runs through all of us. We were never meant to be here. We're Enforcers. We are only here because of you."

Marisol's mouth twisted into something unreadable. "So… what's the plan? What did you drag me here for?"

Carlos hesitated—but the moment passed. He forced himself into his performance.

"I just need you to help us cross over. You're the key. If we wipe out the right place, break the boundary… it opens. Clean. Simple."

Marisol's shoulders tensed. " you mean all the tourist at Disneyland dont you?"

Carlos sat there feinting concern. "I know how it sounds—"

"You're talking about slaughtering thousands of people. Families. Kids." Her voice didn't crack, didn't raise.

Carlos's smile strained. "I already said this is war. Sacrifices have to be made just like Aiden."

Marisol was silent. Her fingers twitched once, digging against the stone.

"…And if I say no?"

Carlos licked his lips. "I think you know the answer. Garrison lives… if you play ball. If not—" He trailed off, letting the threat hang.

Marisol exhaled slow, controlled. "You'd really kill him to get your way?"

Carlos flinched. "No. No, I—I'm not that kind of man, Marisol. I care about my people. My familia. I will though if you force my hand."

"Then sacrifice them," she said flatly.

Carlos froze. "What?"

"You heard me. If it's about the greater good, if your familia matters to you… trade some of them instead. Send them to the Otherworld. Offer them."

The air snapped taut.

Carlos forced a laugh, but it cracked at the edges. "You're trying to trap me."

"No," Marisol whispered, her golden eye gleaming. "I'm just… I'm just pointing out the obvious. How much are you willing to lose... get what you want."

Carlos's throat bobbed. "I'd… I'd do it, Marisol. If that's what it took."

"Liar." Her voice was cold, final.

Carlos jolted upright, the mask slipping again. "I… I should give you time. To think. I—" He forced the mask back on, weakly. "I believe in you, Mari. You're our savior. You'll see that soon enough."

Marisol didn't move.

Carlos backed toward the door. "Rest. Think it over."

The heavy door creaked shut behind him, his footsteps fading.

The moment the latch clicked, Marisol's breath didn't come in sobs. It came in silence. The kind that echoed louder than any scream.

Panic clawed at her throat.

She scanned the room—walls too high, windows barred. Her hands trembled.

"I need to get out…"

Her mind flashed—Garrison's pale face, Aiden's fading smile.

She had to see if Garrison was truly alive. She had to know.

Marisol's voice cracked. "Where are you…?"

Shadows stirred faintly in the corners—but she shook her head.

"No. Stay…"

She swallowed hard thinking of the snakes death, blinking back tears. "I can't lose you guys too. Not like… him."

Her hands fisted tight.

She was trapped—but not broken.

Not yet.

And somewhere, deep inside, the golden light in her eye burned steady.