Chapter : 3

The day moved like a dying thing.

Every hour, Elias grew colder. His hands trembled, his lips lost color, and sometimes his voice slipped into whispers that weren’t his. Rowan tried everything—warm tea, blankets, music—but Elias only flinched at every sound, every vibration, every shifting shadow.

By evening, the bruises on Elias’s ribs darkened into near-black fingerprints.

Rowan couldn’t stop shaking.

“It’s hurting you,” he whispered, brushing Elias’s cheek. “I can’t let it take you.”

Elias gave a weak smile. “You can’t fight something that isn’t alive.”

Rowan held him close. “Then I’ll fight whatever this is with whatever I have.”

Elias’s breath trembled. “Promise me, if it takes me, you won’t—”

“No.” Rowan’s voice cracked. “I’m not promising anything like that.”

Elias leaned his forehead against Rowan’s. “Then promise me you won’t let it take you.”

Rowan swallowed hard. “That I can promise.”

But deep down he knew—

The creature didn’t want him.

It wanted Elias.

And something else.

At 11:59 p.m., the apartment’s temperature plunged.

From warm to ice-cold in a single breath.

Elias sat up instantly, eyes wide, hands gripping the bed as the room shook.

“It’s here,” he whispered, voice trembling. “Rowan—it’s in the apartment right now.”

Rowan grabbed him. “Stay with me. Don’t let go.”

A sound began—soft, distant, echoing through the building’s pipes.

Thud.

Rowan’s heart stopped.

It was the knock.

Not on a door.

Not on a wall.

It wasn’t physical.

The knock came from inside their minds.

Elias gasped in pain and grabbed his temples.

Rowan held him. “Stay with me—stay with me!”

The lights flickered.

Shadows gathered in the corner of the room—pulling themselves together like liquid ink rising from a well. They twisted, thickened, stretched, until a humanoid shape stood there, taller than any person should be, limbs bending wrong, like joints had been added where none should exist.

Its face was smooth. Blank.

Then it slowly sculpted features—eyes, lips, jaw—

until Rowan’s face stared back.

But wrong.

Always wrong.

“Get away from him,” Rowan snarled, stepping in front of Elias.

The creature tilted its head, copying Rowan’s exact movement.

Exact breath.

Exact blink.

Then it spoke with Rowan’s voice.

“You can’t protect him from what he already belongs to.”

Rowan clenched his fists. “You’re not taking him.”

The creature’s stolen face stretched into a wide, sickening smile.

“Then I will trade.”

Elias whimpered behind Rowan. Rowan didn’t turn—he kept his eyes locked on the thing.

“A trade?” Rowan spat. “For what?”

The creature stepped closer, melting, shifting, its limbs dripping like black tar.

It whispered—

“Give me your voice.”

Rowan froze.

“What?”

The creature smiled wider, skin cracking like burnt wood.

“I want your voice in his head. I want your screams. I want your words. I want your sound.”

It leaned in close enough that Rowan could smell cold earth and rot.

“Give me your voice… and I’ll leave his soul intact.”

Elias choked. “No! Rowan, don’t listen—don’t—”

Rowan’s mind raced.

His voice.

His identity.

Everything Elias loved hearing on quiet nights.

Gone.

Elias gripped Rowan’s shirt with shaking fingers. “Rowan—look at me.”

Rowan turned. Elias’s eyes shone with tears, terror, and devotion.

“I would rather die than watch you give that thing anything,” Elias whispered. “I love your voice. I need your voice. Don’t you dare—”

Rowan cupped his cheek. “I’m not losing you.”

The creature laughed, low and gurgling.

“Choose.”

Shadows crawled across the floor toward Elias, wrapping around his ankles like hands.

Elias screamed.

“ROWAN—DON’T—!”

But Rowan stepped forward.

“I’ll do it.”

Elias sobbed. “NO!”

The creature’s smile split its face in half.

“Then open your mouth.”

Rowan forced himself not to tremble as he parted his lips.

A dark, cold wind poured from the creature into him—like being filled with ice water, like something clawing down his throat. His lungs seized. His voice shattered inside him like glass.

He dropped to his knees.

Pain exploded in his chest.

Elias crawled to him, screaming, “STOP! STOP! STOP!”

Rowan tried to speak—

Nothing came out.

Not even a breath.

Silence.

A perfect, absolute silence where his voice used to be.

The creature inhaled, its body warping, filling, reshaping—

until it spoke in Rowan’s perfect voice.

“Thank you.”

Elias trembled. “Give it back! Give him back!”