I pulled into the driveway and stepped out of the car, the lingering heaviness in my chest refusing to fade.
'She's just visiting her hometown,' I told myself for the third time. 'I can go see her anytime.'
Even so, the goodbye had felt... final. Like something had shifted. And what if something had? What if she needed me?
A flicker of worry crept in.
I shook off the thought and unlocked the front door, stepping inside. The quiet of the house wrapped around me. A part of me was already looking forward to spending the rest of the day with Amelia—just the two of us.
I closed the door behind me and made my way toward the living room.
Amelia sat on the sofa, the soft flicker of a movie playing in front of her. From behind, everything looked normal—too normal.
As I walked closer, I called out, "Hey, what are you wat—"
I stopped mid-sentence.
She turned to face me, and for a moment, I forgot to breathe.
Her eyes—those eyes that had always been captivating, black not just in color but in presence—met mine. They weren't just dark. They were voids, vast and consuming, like staring into an eclipse. They pulled you in and refused to let go.
But now… they looked tired.
Swollen. Red-rimmed. Dull in a way I had never seen before.
"You've been crying…" My voice dropped. "Amelia, what happened?"
She shook her head. "Nothing," she murmured, but her voice cracked. "The movie was just... emotional."
It was a lie. A bad one.
Her voice was distant. Hollow.
I sat down beside her, watching her carefully. "Amelia," I said gently, "please. Talk to me. Did something happen?"
She didn't answer.
Instead, she climbed onto my lap without a word, moving as if driven by something deeper than thought.
Her face hovered close, her breath brushing against my lips—warm, uneven. I could hear the slight hitch in it, the quiet tremble she tried to suppress. Her black eyes, like voids swallowing light, gazed into mine for a heartbeat longer. There was something ancient in them. Something haunting.
Then, slowly, she leaned in and pressed her lips to mine.
It was soft. Barely a touch at first. Like a whisper asking for permission.
A kiss that held emotion too fragile to name.
I responded gently, cupping her waist with one hand while my other rested on her back. Her body was tense, like she was holding back a flood.
The seconds stretched.
The kiss deepened, slowly at first—her lips parting just enough to draw in my breath. Then, as if a dam broke inside her, she moved closer, her fingers gripping the fabric of my shirt. Her lips began to move with more intensity, seeking something only she seemed to understand.
She tilted her head slightly, and the angle changed. Her lips were hotter now, her breath heavier. The kiss turned messier, fuller. There was no rhythm, only raw need.
My heart pounded as I kissed her back, holding her face between my hands now, my thumbs brushing her cheekbones. Her skin was cold. Too cold.
But her mouth—her mouth was feverish.
Our breaths mingled. I could feel hers faltering—rapid, broken.
Her hands began to roam, tracing my shoulders, slipping behind my neck, pulling me closer, closer still. The space between us vanished. Her hips shifted slightly against mine, and a soft sound escaped her throat—half gasp, half sob.
It wasn't lust.
It was grief.
Longing.
Fear.
The kiss was desperate now. Her teeth grazed my lip, and her nails dug into my back. I tasted the salt of tears, though I hadn't seen her cry. I didn't even know when they started.
But I knew—deep down—that she wasn't kissing me to feel closer.
She was kissing me…
To say goodbye.
And just like that—
Her lips vanished from mine.
The weight on my lap disappeared.
The warmth, the breath, the heartbeat I'd felt—gone.
As if she had never been there at all.
The warmth was gone. My arms were empty. I didn't understand—my body hadn't even moved, but the world had.
I frantically opened my eyes.
Darkness.
It wasn't the kind you see behind closed eyelids—it was absolute. A void without beginning or end. I couldn't tell if I was falling or floating… or simply suspended in nothing.
There was no wind, no sound, no gravity. Just silence. Pure, oppressive silence.
And I was alone.
Utterly alone.
"Hello?" I called out, my voice trembling, but… nothing answered. The word didn't echo. It just vanished, as if sound itself had been devoured.
"Where… where the hell am I?"
Panic surged in my chest. I twisted, arms flailing in a place that had no direction, no resistance. The more I moved, the more I felt like I was sinking—into what, I didn't know.
My mind tried to reason, to ground itself.
"It's a dream."
"It's a hallucination."
"Maybe I passed out."
But it wasn't.
I could feel it. The rawness. The realness of it. The cold that wasn't cold, just... absence.
And then it began.
A feeling. A sensation so wrong, so violent, it made my breath hitch. Not like a cut or a burn—this pain started from inside, deeper than bone or flesh.
It started tearing me apart.
"Agh—GOD—what—!"
I screamed as something shredded through me. My muscles locked, my chest convulsed. The agony was so sharp, so intimate, it felt like every individual cell in my body was being flayed open.
I screamed again.
And again.
But no one heard me.
There was no one here.
No presence.
No shadowy figure behind the torment.
No judgmental god or hidden devil.
Just me.
Me—and this.
"PLEASE!" I sobbed. "SOMEONE! Anyone!"
But I was invisible. Untouched by attention.
Unwitnessed.
And still the pain grew.
It ripped into my nerves. My bones crumbled. My skin felt like it was melting, but nothing dripped away. It was like being destroyed and preserved all at once.
"Mother—"
Her face flashed before me—gentle, smiling, waving from the train station. My throat clenched.
"I never even said goodbye properly… what if she needs me? What if she comes home and I'm just... gone?"
"She'll be alone."
And Amelia—
She had vanished right before my eyes. No trace. No warmth. No goodbye.
What if I never saw her again?
That thought hurt worse than anything.
"I don't want to die…" I whispered. "I don't want to disappear like this…"
But the tearing didn't stop.
My memories flickered like dying embers. My home. My wife. My past.
They crumbled, flaked off me, burned into nonexistence.
I tried to hold onto something.
My name.
My pain.
My self.
But they, too, were taken.
There were no claws.
No beast.
No god.
Just the universe's cruel indifference. A mechanical, merciless unmaking.
I wept. I screamed until my voice was gone.
I clawed at a body that was no longer there.
I thrashed with limbs that had already dissolved.
My mind cracked, fractured, and screamed without a mouth.
"PLEASE!" I howled into a place that never listened.
"LET ME GO!"
"LET ME—!"
And then…
I couldn't scream anymore.
Because there was nothing left to scream with.
No form.
No voice.
No memory.
Not even a whisper of my name.
Kaelion… ceased.
And only then—
Only when there was nothing left of me—did the pain finally stop.
Silence returned.
And there was nothing.