...
Rain hammered down in sheets, cold and relentless. It drummed on the pavement as Cassian lay beneath Carl's crushing weight. The rain should have been numbing. But all Cassian felt was the cold barrel against his forehead.
Carl's eyes glowed red through the storm. They were dark and swirling, like two endless orbs. The dark stars within them spun slowly, pulling at the edges of Cassian's mind like whispers of a void that would consume him.
Carl leaned closer, the sour stench of his breath invading Cassian's senses. The officer's voice, low and unnatural, was calm, almost tender.
"It's time," he said, his lips curling into a grin that was both eerily human and completely alien.
Cassian's heart raced, his chest heaving as he thrashed against Carl's grip. But no matter how much he struggled, his body refused to obey him. His breath stalled as Carl—no, Arwyn—pressed the barrel to his temple. The cold metal bit into his skin, but it was Carl's trembling hand that seized Cassian's focus.
Tears streaked the officer's face, his jaw clenched so tightly that veins bulged along his neck. "P-please…," Carl choked out, the words mangled as if fighting to reclaim his own voice.
But Arwyn's laugh slithered free, smooth. "Commendable, this officer's will." The safety clicked off, deliberate, taunting. "Regardless, a puppet who still believes he has strings to cut."
Carl's finger spasmed against the trigger, his entire arm shaking—a war waged in the quiver of muscle, the grit of teeth. Cassian's pulse roared.
He's in there. Fighting... I can't lose my will too
For a heartbeat, their eyes met: Cassian's fury, Carl's shattered plea. Then Arwyn's will surged, crushing the resistance. The gun steadied.
Bang!
The gunshot cracked—a deafening snap that drowned the drumming rain. Cassian's body jerked sideways as fire ripped through his neck. Blood bloomed hot and thick, cascading down his collarbone, staining the rain-soaked pavement crimson. He gagged, choking on the metallic tang flooding his mouth, fingers clawing at the wound as if he could staunch the truth: Carl pulled the trigger.
A snarl cut through the downpour. A figure lunged from the shadows—a broad-shouldered man in a sodden hoodie—slamming into Carl with the force of a freight train. They crashed to the ground, the gun skidding across the wet concrete. "Stay down, you lunatic!" the stranger barked, pinning Carl's thrashing limbs with a knee to his spine.
The bullet had only grazed his neck, but it hurt like hell. Cassian's fingers pressed against the wound, sticky with blood, as he tried to keep himself from choking. Cassian swayed, vision flickering. The world tilted, rain and blood and asphalt blurring into a nauseating swirl. Rough hands grabbed his shoulders, hauling him upright.
"Look at me, kid! Look at me!" The man's face swam into view—late 40s, stubble peppered with gray, eyes sharp beneath a furrowed brow. His gaze darted to Cassian's neck. "Christ. The bullet only touched you. You're lucky."
Lucky. The word curdled in Cassian's mind. He tried to speak, but his throat convulsed, a wet cough spraying blood onto the man's sleeve.
"Easy—easy!" The stranger ripped off his hoodie, pressing the fabric to Cassian's neck. "Pressure. Now." His voice softened, edged with panic. "What'd he take? Meth? PCP? Never seen Carl so… feral… oh and kid, do tell other officers when they arrive it was Carl who had gone nuts… Okay!"
The man's voice blurred into the storm as Cassian struggled to stay upright, one hand still pressed to his neck. He wanted to believe he was safe, that this man could help him.
But then the man's head tilted to the side with a sharp, unnatural crack.
Cassian's stomach dropped.
"No… no, no, no," he whispered, his voice trembling as the man began to whistle.
It was the same haunting tune, the same melody that had chased him from Carl. Blood welled in the man's eyes, streaking his face as his irises turned crimson. The dark star appeared, spinning slowly in the center of his pupils.
"NO! Not again," Cassian screamed, shoving the man with what little strength he had. The man stumbled back, his whistling faltering for just a moment, and Cassian took his chance.
Cassian staggered through the storm, each step a jagged symphony of pain. Rain lashed his face, blurring the empty street into a watery hellscape. His breath came in ragged gulps, ribs screaming, but he forced himself onward—survive, survive, survive—until headlights pierced the gloom.
"Help," he gasped, his voice a whisper against the rain.
Headlights appeared through the downpour, and a car slowed as it pulled alongside him.
"Hey! Kid, are you okay?"
Cassian's heart leaped with a fragile, desperate hope. He turned toward the car, his legs barely holding him up. But before he could respond, the driver's head tilted to the side.
Cassian's blood turned to ice as the whistling began again, echoing from inside the car. The passengers mimicked each other, their heads jerking in an unnatural rhythm. Their eyes bled crimson, the dark stars within them spinning faster and faster.
"No!"
Cassian's heart pounded as he turned and fled, struggling to keep his legs moving. The world felt like it was closing in around him, the rain and darkness swallowing everything. His foot caught on a broken piece of pavement, and he fell hard.
Thud!
"Help," he croaked, but his voice was barely a whisper.
The ground was cold and slick beneath him, but Cassian couldn't move. He tried to scream, but his voice failed him. Rain poured down, plastering his hair to his face. He dragged himself backward, but his bloodied hands slipped on the wet ground. His back hit a brick wall, and he slumped against it, his chest heaving.
The pendant around his neck pulsed faintly, a weak warmth that felt like a distant memory. Cassian clutched it tightly, his fingers trembling as tears streamed down his face.
"Mom… please," he whispered. "Help me."
The whistling grew louder and closer.
Cassian's wide eyes darted around the alley, searching for the source of the sound. The shadows seemed to move, shifting and twisting as the rain blurred the edges of his vision.
"Tick-tock."
The faint sound of humming reached his ears, mingling with the whistling. Cassian's breath hitched as a flash of lightning illuminated the alley.
At the far end, a figure stood motionless.
Arwyn.
His white fur coat gleamed like new, untouched by the rain. His crimson eyes glowed brighter than ever, the dark stars within them spinning in perfect, menacing rhythm.
Cassian gasped as Arwyn stepped forward, his movements slow and deliberate. The whistling stopped, replaced by a soft, melodic hum.
"Tick-tock," Arwyn hummed the ticking of clocks, his voice low and smooth, almost gentle.
"Your time is slipping.
"Wounded like a lamb,
"And I'm the one who's come to claim you."
Cassian trembled violently, his body frozen as Arwyn drew closer. The melody wrapped around him like a cold wind, chilling him to his core.
"Tick-tock,
"The clock keeps spinning.
"Every step you take
"Is just another step to nowhere"
The rain softened, as though the storm itself were holding its breath.
Arwyn stopped just in front of Cassian, kneeling slowly so their eyes met. His gentle smile was wrong; the tenderness in it was a twisted mockery.
Cassian tried to speak, but no sound came out.
Arwyn reached forward, his fingers brushing against Cassian's tear-streaked cheek. His touch was cold, almost comforting, and utterly horrifying.
"I told you," Arwyn murmured, his voice as soft as a lullaby. "Running is futile. If only Irina had accepted the truth years ago, this day could have been avoided. But alas…"
He sighed, tilting his head slightly as he studied Cassian's tear-streaked face.
"It is the Lord's will, and it must be done."
Cassian's body was frozen, his mind screaming at him to move, to fight, to do anything. But he was powerless.
Arwyn's hand moved to Cassian's chest, pressing lightly against the fabric of his shirt. The faint glow of the pendant beneath it pulsed weakly, as though trying to fight back. With a fluid motion, he plunged his hand into Cassian's chest.
Cassian's body arched, his eyes widening as searing, white-hot pain consumed him. He gasped, his hands clawing weakly at Arwyn's arm, but it was no use.
Arwyn's fingers curled around something inside him—something vital. With a sickening pull, he wrenched it free.
Cassian's vision blurred, the edges of the world fading into darkness. The last thing he saw was Arwyn's serene smile, his crimson eyes glowing in the void.
If I survive… If I get a second chance… I will burn this world if it means you burn with it.
And then everything went still. For a moment, silence reigned. Arwyn stood, Cassian's lifeless body crumpled before him.
He held the boy's heart in his hand, studying it with quiet reverence.
"You were destined for this, Cassian," Arwyn said, a hint of regret in his voice. He looked down at Cassian's dead body, his expression unreadable.
"Rest well, my son… I'll find you soon," Arwyn whispered.
...