Whispers in the Dark

The iron door groaned shut behind them, sealing Damian inside the dimly lit chamber. The flickering candlelight danced along the rough stone walls, casting jagged shadows that seemed to breathe with life. The air was thick—heavy with the scent of old blood and damp stone.

Lucian stood in the center of the room, his pale eyes glinting beneath the low light. Selene leaned against the far wall, arms crossed, watching Damian with that same cold smirk.

Damian's heart pounded in his chest, the hunger still clawing at him from within. Every breath he took carried the faint copper tang of blood, making the ache in his throat burn hotter.

He clenched his fists, forcing himself to stay still.

He couldn't show weakness.

Not now.

Lucian's voice broke the silence, low and measured.

"The hunger is your curse, but it is also your greatest weapon. If you fear it, it will break you. If you resist it... it will consume you."

His cold gaze locked onto Damian, pinning him in place.

"But if you control it..."

Lucian's smirk deepened.

"...there is nothing in this world that can stand against you."

Damian's jaw clenched.

He didn't want power. He didn't want to be some creature lurking in the shadows, bound by blood and hunger.

He just wanted to be himself again.

But the whispers were always there now—soft, insidious voices curling through the edges of his mind.

Valtor... embrace what you are...

The blood is your birthright...

He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to drown them out.

"I'm not like you."

Lucian's smile faded.

"You are exactly like me."

The words sent a chill down Damian's spine.

Lucian stepped closer, his pale eyes glinting in the candlelight.

"You carry the blood of the Valtor line... a legacy older than kingdoms. Your ancestors carved their names into history—shadows that shaped the world from behind the veil."

His voice dropped lower, like a serpent coiling around Damian's thoughts.

"They built empires... toppled kings... whispered into the hearts of men from the dark."

Damian's pulse quickened.

He could feel the whispers rising again—ancient voices brushing against his mind.

Blood calls to blood...

We are watching...

His breath caught in his throat.

"No," he whispered.

Lucian's cold smile returned.

"You can feel them, can't you?"

Damian's heart pounded.

He could.

They were always there—just out of sight, lingering at the edge of his thoughts.

"You're lying," he said, his voice shaking.

Lucian's eyes narrowed.

"Am I?"

The hunger twisted inside him—sharp and relentless.

He wanted to deny it—to cling to whatever shred of humanity he had left.

But deep down...

He knew the truth.

The blood had bound him to something far older than himself.

Something he couldn't escape.

Selene's voice broke the silence.

"He's close."

Lucian glanced at her, then back to Damian.

"Good."

He stepped back, folding his hands behind his back.

"The hunger will never leave you, Damian. It will claw at your mind... your soul... until you give in."

His pale eyes gleamed.

"But there is another way."

Damian's breath caught.

"What way?"

Lucian's smile was cold.

"You learn to feed without losing yourself."

Damian's stomach twisted.

Feed.

The word made his throat burn.

Lucian turned, moving to a stone table at the far side of the chamber. He picked up a small silver chalice, the metal glinting in the candlelight.

He held it out toward Damian.

Dark crimson liquid swirled inside—thick, rich... pulsing with something unseen.

Blood.

Damian's heart slammed against his ribs.

"No."

Lucian's voice was like ice.

"You must."

Selene's smirk widened from the shadows.

"Better to taste it here... before the hunger drives you to take it by force."

Damian's breath quickened. His whole body trembled.

He could feel the hunger rising—clawing at his insides, whispering in the back of his mind.

Drink...

Embrace what you are...

His throat burned.

"No," he rasped, shaking his head.

Lucian's eyes hardened.

"This is not a choice, Valtor."

The name sent a jolt through Damian's chest.

Valtor.

That name—his name—felt heavier every time they spoke it.

Like shackles wrapping tighter around his soul.

He stumbled back, his breath ragged.

"I won't... I'm not a monster."

Lucian's voice was cold.

"Not yet."

The hunger screamed inside him.

His vision blurred, the scent of blood filling his lungs—thick and intoxicating.

His heart pounded harder, echoing in his ears.

Feed...

Become what you were meant to be...

Damian squeezed his eyes shut, fighting to block out the whispers.

He wouldn't give in.

He couldn't.

But the hunger only grew stronger.

Lucian's voice was a whisper in the dark.

"Control it... or it will control you."

Damian's breath came in ragged gasps.

He could feel the monster beneath his skin—waiting, watching.

He didn't know how much longer he could hold it back.

Lucian stepped closer, holding the chalice out to him.

"Drink... or let the hunger tear you apart."

Damian's heart slammed against his ribs.

His hands shook at his sides.

He couldn't do this.

He wouldn't.

But the hunger clawed at him—relentless, merciless.

It would never stop.

His breath caught in his throat.

He reached for the chalice with trembling fingers.

The cold metal burned against his skin.

Lucian's pale eyes gleamed.

"Good."

Damian's heart pounded as he stared into the dark crimson liquid.

The whispers rose again, louder this time—filling the chamber with their ghostly voices.

Valtor... feed...

Embrace what you are...

Tears burned at the edges of Damian's eyes.

He didn't want this.

But the hunger would never let him go.

With a shaking breath...

He lifted the chalice to his lips.

The first drop touched his tongue—hot, coppery... alive.

And the world around him shattered.

The whispers roared inside his skull.

His heart thundered in his chest.

Every nerve in his body ignited—sharp, electric, burning.

His senses exploded—colors brighter, sounds sharper, the pulse of life thrumming all around him.

The hunger surged...

And for one brief, terrible moment—

He wanted more.

The chalice slipped from his hands, clattering to the stone floor. The echoes filled the chamber.

Damian stumbled back, his breath ragged. His veins burned beneath his skin.

Lucian's cold smile never wavered.

"Welcome, Valtor."

The whispers swirled around him—rising, laughing.

Blood calls to blood...

You are one of us now...

Damian's heart pounded as the truth sank in.

There was no turning back.

He was bound by blood.

Forever.