Descent into Madness

The scream ripped from Marcus's throat — raw, broken, and filled with a kind of agony he'd never known.

Emily fell.

Time slowed. The air thickened, every heartbeat pounding like thunder in his ears. Marcus reached for her — but she was already slipping away. Her eyes found his, wide and glassy with pain, and her lips moved without sound.

"Emily!"

He caught her before she hit the ground, his arms wrapping around her as her warmth began to fade. Blood spread across his hands — so much blood. His vision blurred, and his breath came in shallow gasps.

"Stay with me. Please stay with me," he whispered, his voice shaking. "You're going to be okay. I swear you're going to be okay."

But her eyelids fluttered. Her body trembled against his, and the light in her eyes flickered like a dying flame.

Behind them, Vale watched in silence. His knife, still slick with her blood, hung loosely in his hand. His face remained unreadable — calm, cold, and distant.

"Why?" Marcus's voice was barely more than a growl. His fingers clenched, the darkness inside him writhing violently. "Why did you—"

"Because you hesitated," Vale said simply. "And hesitation has a price."

The words snapped something inside Marcus.

The air cracked.

The shadows surged — but this time they didn't obey him. They consumed him.

A wave of black erupted outward, slamming into the stone walls and sending shards flying. The room twisted violently, reality itself bending under the weight of Marcus's rage.

Vale's eyes sharpened. He raised his hand — but the darkness struck first.

A tendril lashed out, faster than lightning, and wrapped around his throat. It lifted him off the ground, slamming him into the wall with bone-breaking force. For the first time, the calm slipped from Vale's face, replaced by a flicker of fear.

"You think you understand power?" Marcus's voice was no longer his own. It was deeper — a growl, a snarl, a voice that echoed with something far darker. "You think you can take her from me and walk away?"

The shadows squeezed. Vale choked, struggling against the iron grip — but Marcus didn't care.

The room quaked. The walls cracked. The air grew colder.

But then Emily's voice broke through the storm.

"Marcus… please…"

It was weak. Barely a whisper. But it was enough.

The darkness hesitated.

Vale moved.

A flash of silver — and the knife embedded itself in Marcus's side.

Pain exploded through him. The shadows recoiled, and Vale dropped to the ground, coughing violently.

But Marcus didn't fall.

He didn't stop.

He pulled the knife from his body, his blood dripping onto the cold stone floor — and he took a step forward.

Vale's eyes widened. "Impossible…"

"You've already lost," Marcus whispered.

The darkness roared.

It surged forward, swallowing the room whole — and this time, Marcus didn't fight it. He embraced it.

Vale's scream was the last thing he heard before the world turned black.

—

When the darkness faded, the room was silent.

The stone walls had crumbled. The air was thick with dust and cold, and the only sound was Marcus's ragged breathing.

He stood alone.

Vale was gone.

But Emily…

Marcus turned — and the sight nearly broke him.

She lay still, her face pale, her breathing shallow. Blood stained the ground around her, far too much blood.

"No… no, no, no…"

He dropped to his knees beside her, his hands shaking. He pressed them against the wound, trying to stop the bleeding — but it wouldn't stop. It wouldn't stop.

"Stay with me," he begged. "Please, Emily. Don't leave me."

Her eyes fluttered open — just barely. And when she spoke, her voice was so soft he had to lean closer to hear.

"You… have to let go…"

"No!" Marcus's voice cracked. "I won't. I can't—"

"You have to…" Her fingers brushed his cheek, her touch feather-light. "Before… it takes you, too…"

But it was already too late.

The darkness had its claws in him now — and it wasn't letting go.

And as Emily's breathing slowed… Marcus realized he didn't care.