Hex Code

Chapter 1:Birthday That Bled.

“The birthday I had been preparing for… turned into a day drenched in blood.”

Cora’s eighth birthday was just around the corner. She had been waiting for this day for as long as she could remember.

For weeks, she poured herself into every detail—carefully choosing decorations, imagining the laughter, and picking out the perfect dress. In her mind, the celebration had already happened a hundred times, each version more beautiful than the last.

This was meant to be the happiest day of her life.

And for a moment—It was.

The grand banquet hall shimmered beneath golden chandeliers, their light spilling across polished marble floors. Elegantly dressed guests filled the room, their laughter blending with soft music and quiet conversations. The air itself seemed alive with warmth and celebration.

At the entrance stood Cora.

Her flowing blue dress caught the light with every movement, glimmering like a piece of the evening sky. She greeted each guest with a bright, radiant smile, her small hands waving, her voice light with excitement.

Everything was perfect.

Exactly as she had dreamed.

Until—

The doors creaked open.

The sound was soft.

But wrong.

It sliced through the laughter, sharp and unnatural, and the room seemed to hold its breath.

A man stepped inside.

Darkness clung to him like a second skin, his face hidden beneath deep shadows. In one hand, he carried an ancient book—its worn cover etched with markings that seemed to shift when looked at too long.

One by one, the voices faded.

The music faltered… and died.

All eyes turned toward him.

Confusion spread across the room, quiet at first—then growing, like ripples across still water.

The man whispered something.

Too soft to hear.

Too distant to understand.

Then—

A massive black circle opened behind him.

It did not appear—it tore itself into existence.

It pulsed.

Breathing.

Watching.

From its depths, figures began to emerge.

Men cloaked in black robes stepped forward one by one, their movements slow and deliberate. Each carried a weapon. Each stood in silence.

Waiting.

The cloaked man raised his hand.

And pointed.

At Cora.

When he spoke, his voice was cold enough to still the air itself.

“Kill everyone in sight… except for the boy and that girl.”

And then—

He was gone.

Chaos erupted.

Screams shattered the silence as fear spread like wildfire. Guests turned to flee, their footsteps echoing against the marble floor, but there was no escape. The once-beautiful hall descended into panic and confusion, the celebration collapsing into something unrecognizable.

The laughter that had filled the room moments ago twisted into cries of terror—

And then, one by one—Faded.

Through it all, Cora stood still.

Watching.

Her expression was calm.

Unmoving.

Almost… satisfied.

Time seemed to stretch, the chaos unfolding around her like a distant dream.

Until, at last—

It was over.

Silence returned to the hall, heavy and suffocating.

And then—

As suddenly as they appeared, the robed figures began to fade.

Dark smoke curled around their bodies, swallowing them whole. One by one, the armed men in black robes dissolved into shadows, their forms unraveling into nothingness until no trace of them remained.

Cora’s lips slowly curled into a small, unsettling smile.

“It’s finally… over.”

Her voice was soft.

Almost relieved.

And then—Her body gave out.

She collapsed onto the cold marble floor, her blue dress spreading around her like a fallen piece of sky.

For a moment—

There was nothing.

No sound.

No light.

No time.

Then—

A sharp breath tore through the silence.

Cora’s eyes snapped open.

The world rushed back all at once, heavy and disorienting. The golden lights above blurred into streaks, her vision struggling to steady as a dull ache pulsed through her head.

She blinked.

Once.

Twice.

And then—

She saw them.

Bodies.

Everywhere.

Scattered across the grand marble floor where laughter had once lived. Guests lay motionless, their elegant clothes now still, their presence reduced to something hauntingly quiet. The vast hall, once filled with warmth and celebration, had turned cold… hollow.

Cora’s breath caught in her throat.

Her fingers trembled against the floor as she slowly pushed herself up, her small frame unsteady. The soft fabric of her blue dress dragged against the marble as she moved, her eyes darting from one figure to another.

Confusion washed over her.

“What…?”

Her voice came out barely above a whisper.

Fragments of memory flickered in her mind—blurred, broken, slipping away before she could grasp them. The door… a man… something dark—

Then nothing.

Her chest tightened.

“Why are they…?”

She couldn’t finish the sentence.

"Did something happen?"

Her gaze fell to her hands.

They trembled.

But there was something else—

A feeling she couldn’t explain.

Not fear.

Not entirely.

Something deeper.

Something wrong.

Cora slowly rose to her feet, her legs weak beneath her. The hall stretched endlessly around her, far too quiet now, as if the world itself had abandoned the place.

“…Hello?”

No answer.

Only silence.

A silence that felt like it was watching her.

Her heart began to pound.

Minutes later—

The doors burst open.

Police officers rushed inside—

And stopped.

The scene before them stole the air from their lungs.

Silence.

Shock.

Horror.

“What… happened here?” one of them whispered.

“We’re too late…” another muttered.

They moved carefully, scanning every corner, every shadow.

“Check for survivors. Now.”

Then—

“There…!”

At the center of the room—

A small girl.

Kneeling.

Shaking.

Alive.

They approached her slowly, as if even the slightest movement might break her further.

“Miss… can you hear me?”

Cora let out a quiet, shattered sob.

“You’re safe now,” the officer said gently.

“We’re here to help.”

He extended his hand.

For a long moment, she didn’t move.

Then—

Slowly—

She reached out.

And took it.

An hour later—

Inside a quiet interrogation room, Cora sat across from an officer.

Her hands rested in her lap.

Still trembling.

“State your name.”

A pause.

“…Corazelle.”

“Do you remember what happened?”

She shook her head.

“I… don’t remember…”

Her voice faded into nothing.

“All I remember… is my hands… covered in blood…”

The door opened.

A man entered, followed by a teenage boy.

The atmosphere shifted the moment they stepped inside—quieter, calmer, heavier.

The officer stood, exchanged a few words, then left.

The man took the seat across from her.

The boy remained standing beside him.

Watching.

Silent.

The man smiled gently.

“Hello, Cora. I’m Albert Everhart… and this young man is Kate.”

Cora lowered her gaze.

“You’ve been through a lot tonight,” he said softly.

Her fingers tightened slightly.

“Do you remember anything at all?”

She shook her head again.

“Your parents… were they there?”

Another shake.

“I don’t remember… anything,” she whispered. “Not even them…”

For a moment—

He froze.

Then he glanced at the boy.

“Are you sure about this, Master?” the boy murmured.

“She has no one… or at least, she believes she doesn’t,” the man replied quietly.

A pause.

“Yes,” he said. “I’m sure.”

He stood.

Walked toward her slowly.

Carefully.

And extended his hand.

“Cora… before your memories return… would you like to stay with us for the time being?”

Mr. Albert’s voice was gentle, his warm smile carefully placed—reassuring, steady, almost too perfect for a world that had just fallen apart.

Cora looked at him in silence.

Her eyes, still clouded with confusion, searched his face as if trying to find something familiar—something safe.

Mr. Albert cleared his throat softly, then continued,

“Ah… it’s just that… you don’t seem to remember anything. Not even your parents. If staying with us helps you recall something… or if your family comes looking for you, then—”

“Okay, sir…”

Her answer came quietly.

Simple. Certain.

And just like that—

Cora stayed.

They welcomed her with open arms.

The house, once quiet and orderly, slowly began to change. Soft footsteps echoed through the halls again. A small voice replaced the silence. Little things—like laughter, like curiosity, like life—returned to places that had long forgotten them.

Cora was given her own room.

It was simple, but warm. Clean sheets, neatly arranged books, and a window that let in the morning light. At first, she stood at the doorway for a long time, as if unsure whether she truly belonged there.

But eventually—

She stepped inside.

Days passed.

Then weeks.

Then months.

Cora adapted.

Quietly.

Naturally.

As if she had always belonged there.

She learned the routines of the house, the rhythm of each day, the small habits that made it feel like home. Mornings were calm.

Evenings were peaceful. And somewhere in between, life slowly stitched itself back together.

But her memories never returned.

Not a single face.

Not a single name.

Not even her parents.

And no one ever came for her.

At first, Mr. Albert told himself to wait.

A week.

A month.

"Surely someone would come.

Someone had to be looking for her."

But as time slipped further away—

Hope quietly faded.

One evening, under a dim golden sky, he made his decision.

From that day on—

Cora was no longer just a guest.

She became his granddaughter.

His family.

Years passed.

Four of them.

At twelve, Cora had changed.

Not just in appearance—

But in presence.

She was calm. Observant. Composed beyond her years. The kind of girl who didn’t need to speak loudly to be noticed.

At school, she blended in.

A normal life.

But behind that normal life—

Something else existed.

When night came—

Cora disappeared.

The city transformed under darkness, shadows stretching across empty streets, hiding things most people were never meant to see.

And in that darkness—

She moved.

With unmatched precision, she slipped through systems no one else could breach. Firewalls, encrypted networks, classified databases—none of them could keep her out. Her hacking and tracking skills were beyond anything anyone could explain.

But she didn’t stop there.

She hunted.

Not the innocent.

Only the wicked.

Corrupt people.

Beasts lurking in the dark.

Creatures that did not belong in the human world.

And in her hand—

A scythe.

Forged not by fire—

But by her own blood.

A weapon bound to her, moving as if it shared her will.