Threads of Obsession

The farmhouse felt different when they returned. The air inside had shifted—thicker, heavier, as though unseen eyes pressed against the walls. Ethan moved mechanically, his footsteps hollow on the wooden floor. Anna followed closely, her pulse racing, her senses on high alert.

She locked the door behind them and slid the deadbolt into place. Not that it would help. If Victoria had truly embedded herself within Ethan's psyche, no physical barrier would keep her out.

Ethan collapsed onto the couch, his face pale, eyes fixed on the ceiling. His breaths came shallow and uneven. Anna knelt beside him, her bloody palm leaving a faint smear on his shirt as she shook his shoulder.

"Ethan."

No response. His pupils were dilated, the silver swirl still faintly visible beneath the surface.

Anna's stomach knotted.

He's already slipping.

She moved to the fireplace, retrieved the iron poker, and pressed the cold metal against his forearm. Ethan hissed in pain and jerked upright.

"Damn it, Anna!" he shouted, cradling his arm. "What the hell—"

"You were gone," she said, voice sharp but controlled. "You stopped responding. I had to pull you back."

His breathing slowed. He rubbed his arm where the poker had scorched his skin. A thin welt had already begun to rise.

"I heard her," he said after a moment, voice barely audible. "She was... whispering to me the entire way home."

Anna's chest tightened. "What did she say?"

Ethan's eyes grew distant. "She said she missed me. That I belonged with her." His jaw clenched. "She said she could make it stop. The confusion. The fear. She could give me... clarity again."

Anna sat beside him on the couch, her heart pounding. She needed to tread carefully now.

"Clarity for what?" she asked softly.

Ethan's lips twitched in something like a smile, but it was cold and hollow. "She said I could stop fighting. That I'd finally understand my purpose."

Anna's fingers dug into her thighs. Of course she did.

Victoria wasn't merely trying to resurrect herself; she was using Ethan's psychological vulnerability to manipulate him. He'd always craved purpose—a direction, a mission. Victoria had exploited that once. And now she was doing it again.

Anna leaned closer, forcing her voice to remain steady. "You don't need her to find purpose, Ethan. You never did."

He turned to look at her, and for a fleeting second, she saw the old Ethan—the man who'd once stood beside her on the rain-soaked streets of Krakos, laughing at the absurdity of life and death.

But the moment passed.

The shadows returned, swirling in the depths of his gaze.

Three days later

The temperature in the farmhouse dropped inexplicably. The fireplace crackled, yet Anna could see her breath mist in the air.

Victoria was growing stronger.

Anna stood at the kitchen table, pouring over ancient texts and scribbled notes. The page beneath her fingers showed a diagram she'd seen before: a binding sigil designed to anchor restless spirits. But this one was incomplete. The text alongside it had been deliberately scratched out, leaving only fragments.

"Corpus anima vinculum..." she read aloud. "Body and soul... tethered."

She traced the sigil with her fingertip.

What was Victoria really trying to achieve?

Footsteps sounded behind her. Anna turned, half-expecting Ethan.

Instead, the child stood there.

The Hollow King's vessel—a girl no older than eight, with pale skin and hair as dark as midnight. Her eyes shimmered with an unnatural intelligence far beyond her years. She wore a simple black dress and stood barefoot on the cold wooden floor.

Anna's breath caught in her throat. "You're not supposed to be here."

The child tilted her head. "I go where I'm needed." Her voice was soft, melodic. "You need answers, don't you?"

Anna's grip tightened on the dagger at her hip. "And what do you want in return?"

The child smiled faintly. "Nothing yet." She moved closer, her footsteps making no sound. "Victoria isn't like you. She doesn't want balance. She wants domination."

Anna's throat went dry. "I know that."

The child's smile widened. "But do you know why she needs Ethan?"

Anna forced herself to maintain eye contact. "Because he's the anchor. The tether to the Hollow King's network."

The child shook her head slowly. "That's what she wants you to believe."

Anna's heart skipped a beat. "What do you mean?"

The child's gaze turned cold. "The Hollow King doesn't need Ethan. Victoria does. She doesn't just want power. She wants him. She needs him to complete herself."

Anna's pulse roared in her ears. "Complete herself… how?"

The child leaned in and whispered, "She wants to become more than the Hollow King. She wants to become eternal. And she can't do it alone."

The realization slammed into Anna like a freight train.

Victoria didn't want Ethan as a pawn. She wanted him as a partner.

Not to control him, but to fuse with him—mind, body, and soul. To become an entity that could no longer be destroyed or bound by mortal or immortal forces.

She wants a co-ruler.

Anna stepped back, heart racing.

The child's expression softened. "You're afraid."

Anna gripped the table for balance. "How do I stop it?"

The child's eyes shimmered silver. "You already know the answer."

Anna froze.

The blood ritual.

She could stop the fusion by completing the original ritual from Obsidian Point—only this time, she'd have to do it with Ethan's full cooperation.

Or his death.

Meanwhile, upstairs

Ethan sat on the edge of the bed, staring at his hands. They trembled, though he couldn't feel the cold anymore. His veins pulsed faintly with silver light.

The voice was back. Stronger now.

"They're lying to you."

He clenched his jaw. "Shut up."

"Anna doesn't want to help you. She's afraid of you. Of us."

He squeezed his eyes shut.

But the voice didn't stop.

"Let me show you the truth."

Ethan doubled over, gripping his temples.

The air shifted. He opened his eyes—and found himself no longer in the farmhouse.

He stood in an obsidian palace. The walls shimmered like oil on water. The air smelled faintly of burning incense.

Ahead of him, on a throne of black stone, sat Victoria.

She wore a dress of dark silk, her hair cascading over her shoulders. Her lips curled into a knowing smile as she extended her hand.

"Welcome home, Ethan."