Royniel_Aning

In Deep Down Your Black Heart, step into a world where the boundaries between reality and imagination blur, and the darkest corners of the human psyche come alive. Inspired by the gripping reality of maladaptive daydreaming, this novel weaves a tale of haunting self-reflection, survival, and the unrelenting pull of power and consequence.

Follow Hound, a deeply conflicted man gifted—and cursed—with the ability to glimpse fractured visions of the future. As his transformations ravage his body and psyche, Hound navigates a dystopian world of deceit, betrayal, and survival. Driven by guilt over a horrific act against his closest friend, Hound teeters on the edge of madness, his silver eyes reflecting not just his powers but the unrelenting weight of his past.

From the brutal trenches of Rivermirror to the guarded halls of River’s elite, Hound’s journey unfolds amidst chaos, betrayal, and unshakable loyalty to his fractured sense of justice. Encounters with characters like the dangerously playful Argent, whose silver hair is as sharp as her wit, and Emily, a woman caught between privilege and survival, challenge Hound’s morality and force him to confront the truths of his own fractured humanity.
Exploring the cost of power, the limits of forgiveness, and the chilling effects of unchecked ambition, Through the Deep Down Your Black Heart  is a deeply psychological journey through a dystopian world where every choice ripples with devastating consequences. Perfect for readers of dark fantasy and psychological thrillers, this novel delivers a raw, unflinching exploration of what it means to be human when humanity itself hangs in the balance

Deep Down Your Black Heart

His lifeless body slumped under its own weight as Emily looked on, her expression disturbingly blank. Another corpse—nothing more. She slowly raised her gaze from the fallen soldier to Gazier, who stood hunched forward, struggling for breath.

"How much for your gun?" he asked through a pained grin, wincing at the burn of his recent backstab wound. Emily, edging closer, offered a curt reply:

She moved until she was almost within arm's reach, studying Gazier with a blend of concern and malice. He, noticing her tense scrutiny, tried to dispel the uneasy silence:

"Let's see. You tracked me down, handled those soldiers, and showed up just in time. So, let me guess—the big, bad boss is on his way, and I'm screwed?"

He tried a dry chuckle, but Emily's face remained impassive.

Her anger slowly melted into grief. She rested her forehead on Gazier's shoulder, tears flowing silently as her fingers bunched in his shirt, wrinkling it with every trembling sob.

"Emily?" Gazier whispered, unsure how to comfort her. When she sank to her knees, still holding on, he followed, placing a cautious hand on her back. The tears continued unabated.

"You were always a crybaby… Nostalgia!" a familiar voice rang out from behind them. Emily did not bother turning around; she knew that tone all too well. The pink bunny—Mavis, as Emily had once known her—stepped forward.

"Relax, bestie. I only came for their armor. I've decided to forgive you because now I understand."

Emily managed to rasp through her tears:

"I get that you did what you had to do back then—your so-called teaching moment," Mavis answered. She casually removed her bunny mask, revealing the scarred flesh beneath. One side of her face was intact, the other seared into blackened scar tissue that ran so deep it almost exposed bone.

"Look at me, Emily," she said calmly. "Look at what you've done to me."

But Emily remained on the floor, locked in guilt and grief, her mind drifting to memories of Hound's final speech to the seers.

"LOOK AT YOUR OWN CREATION, MOTHERFUCKER!"

That vicious shout jerked Emily out of her daze. Her lips parted, and she uttered:

"What?" Gazier asked, leaning in to catch her muffled words.

"First, he'd check for any negative consequences of his next move, to keep everything under control," she replied, this time loud enough to be heard. Her eyes began to glow with a faint red luminescence—indeed, her entire vision became tinted crimson. Wispy, blood-red threads rimmed in jet-black flames wove across her sight, representing the possible futures no more than five seconds out. In this moment, time itself seemed to slow, granting her a brief window to choose her course.

Suddenly, a single thread snapped, revealing the first glimpse of a Possible Future:

Emily turned to face Mavis, staring at the ghastly burns scarring her features. Even in this vision, Emily felt the urge to recoil, unable to hold Mavis's gaze.

"LOOK AT ME!" Mavis shouted. "You did this! But instead of vengeance, I thank you."

"Mavis, listen…" Emily began, "I'm sorry for what I—"

"Sorry?" Mavis snapped. "After all you've done, you think 'sorry' is enough?" She reached to her side and pulled out a shotgun, firing a warning shot deliberately wide of Emily's head.

Emily, still unable to meet Mavis's eyes, whispered, "Hound's dead." Gazier blanched in shock. "I killed him. He was the only reason I stayed away from you for so long. Now… we can finally be together."

The vision blurred before Emily could see Mavis's reaction.

What Would Hound Do?