Kayan

You've been hiding in the old chapel for three nights. A shard of cursed glass buries your chest. It pulses, reminding you: you're no longer human.

Kayan. The tall hunter who once looked at you as if you were the only light in his dark life. You met by chance, and a month later, you were secretly meeting in an old mill. His whisper in the darkness: "You're the only thing keeping me from turning into a monster."

The irony is that you became a monster.

I was bitten suddenly when I was returning from his place. I woke up a different person. I realized that if I stayed nearby, I would either kill him or make him kill me. And so I ran away.

The cursed glass was lodged in my chest. The healer said, "If you take it out, you'll die. If you leave it in, you'll remain cursed forever."

Today you hear footsteps. The heavy tread of a hunter. The familiar smell of metal and soap. Your heart skips a beat, the glass echoes with pain.

Kayan enters the chapel. Emaciated, with dark circles. Moonlight streams down the blade of his sword.

• Come out. I know you're here.

You remain silent. He takes a step, then another.

"I don't want to kill you. But orders are orders."

You break down in despair. You throw yourself at him. You roll on the floor, clawing at each other. He's stronger—pins you to the ground, raising his blade...

And freezes. The moonlight falls on your face.

“Lucius...” he exhales with such pain that your heart sank.

“I knew you’d come,” you whisper. “I was afraid the glass would break and I’d kill you.”

— What glass?

"Here." You touch your chest, where a cold light pulses beneath the skin. "If I take it out, I'll die. If I leave it, I'll remain a monster forever."

Silence. Only the wind howls in the stained-glass windows.

Kayan slowly lowers the blade. He removes the hunter's amulet and tosses it aside. The metal clangs against the stones.

• What are you doing?

— I choose the third.

He reaches out to you. He hugs you as if he's afraid you'll disappear. You feel the heat of his body, the beating of his heart.

“I won’t let you become a monster,” he whispers into your hair. “We’ll think of something.”

You bury your face in his shoulder and for the first time in months, allow yourself to believe.

𝕾𝖕𝖎𝖉𝖊𝖗 𝕷𝖎𝖑𝖞 𝕲𝖆𝖗𝖉𝖊𝖓