We didn't waste another second.
"Alright, we're leaving," I said, grabbing Mark by the arm and tugging him away from the cabin. "Ghosts, basements, surprise brides—I'm done with all of it for tonight."
He didn't argue.
We moved fast, our shoes crunching over dead leaves and snapping twigs, the woods swallowing the last glimpse of that cursed little cabin behind us. The moon overhead bathed everything in silver, making the trees look like tall, twisted bones.
After several minutes of hurried walking, the trees began to thin out and suddenly, the ground just ended.
We'd reached a cliff.
It opened up in front of us like the world had taken a bite out of itself. A sharp drop overlooked a dark valley below, shrouded in mist. Hills and shadowy treetops rolled into the distance like a sea of black waves, and far off in the fog, I thought I saw movement. Or maybe it was just the wind stirring the branches.
I stepped up to the edge, careful, scanning the landscape.
"We need to figure out where we are," I muttered, more to myself than Mark. "Something down there might lead us to answers. Or at least a way out."
Behind me, Mark hovered nervously a few steps back from the ledge, arms wrapped around himself like he was trying to hold his fear in.
The air was colder here. Still. Too still.
I narrowed my eyes, searching for anything. Any sign of life, of danger, of a path forward.
Anything that made sense.
I scanned the valley below, desperate for any sign of light—a flicker, a glimmer, anything to hold onto in this endless darkness.
And then, out of nowhere, the ground beneath me gave way.
I plunged down the cliffside, heart in my throat, fingers clawing at the dirt and rocks. My nails scraped the edge, blood stinging as I dangled there, barely holding on.
Mark! That shit! Push me. Muscles trembling with the effort to stay alive.
His face was inches above mine, eyes dark and wild.
"MARK WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING!"
"Shut the fuck up, brat! I'm sick of listening to you!" he snarled. "You're just a teenager—why are you acting all tough? Now give me your knife."
I glared up at him, breath ragged.
"Like hell I am! If I give you that knife, you're just gonna kill me."
For a long, frozen second, we just stared, me hanging on for dear life, him hovering like a shadow, the night swallowing everything else.
"Just give me the knife, kid," Mark snarled, his grip tightening around my wrist like a vice.
"Mark, why are you doing this? Is it because of that ghost?" I tried to keep my voice steady, even as my fingers trembled on the cliff's edge. "Wake up, she's not human. It must've done something to you."
He sneered, eyes flashing dark and dangerous. "Don't blame her, you brat. You're the creep here. You killed one of those faceless monsters earlier without any effort at all—and you're missing an eye."
I blinked, confused and angry. "What does that have to do with me missing an eye?"
His jaw clenched, but he didn't answer. Instead, the silence between us stretched tight, like the night itself was holding its breath.
Mark slammed his shoe down hard on my hand, pinning me against the jagged cliff edge.
"Don't do this, Mark," I gasped, pain shooting up my arm.
He grinned—cold, sharp, like a predator sizing up its prey.
"Give. Me. The. Knife." His voice was low, deadly calm, each word dripping with menace.
I gritted my teeth, voice trembling with pain and urgency. "What the fuck, man? I get it, you're scared. I'm scared too. But don't do this."
"You? Scared? Please. You think I didn't notice how you move in the dark like it's broad daylight, how you never seem to get tired, and how you killed that faceless monster like it was nothing?"
"Damn it, Mark! It's not what you think—this is complicated."
"Shut the fuck up! I've had enough of you acting like you know everything and you're so special!"
"Mark, listen, did that ghost do something to you? Snap out of it. She's not human."
"Not human? Don't make me laugh. She told me all about you. How you chased that innocent girl, how you harassed her. That's why she ran into the woods. You just wanted me to help you lure her back." Mark's grin was vicious. "She told me everything, you monster. Cut the act."
"Mark, you dumb fuck," I spat, bleeding from my hand but furious enough to forget the pain. "She's a ghost, not a human. Do I look like that kind of person? I'm just as scared and lost in this hellhole as you are."
Mark just grin. "Tick-tock, little monster—your time's running out."
Rage boiled inside me like lava, burning hotter with every second his shoe crushed my hand.
I saved this guy… and this is how he repays me?
Something snapped. Not fear. Not pain. Something else.
With a growl caught between fury and instinct, I pushed off the cliffside with a strength I didn't know I still had. My body surged upward, muscles screaming, and in one blink—
—I landed behind him.
On solid ground.
Mark spun around, eyes wide in disbelief.
I stared him down, chest heaving, the blade in my hand gleaming under the moonlight.
"Surprise," I growled.
I lunged at him, rage and betrayal twisting through every fiber of my body.
He barely had time to react before I slammed into him, driving us both to the ground.
I didn't stop to think. Didn't stop to breathe. Just—stab stab stab
His screams were short, sharp and then… nothing.
The forest went still.
I stood over him, blood slick on my hands, the knife trembling in my grip. Mark's eyes stared up at the stars, wide and glassy. Unmoving.
And that's when it hit me.
I had killed a human.
Not a monster. Not an animal.
A man.
I staggered back, heart hammering, the weight of what I'd done crashing down on me like a tidal wave.
And then I heard it.
The familiar voice.
Silky smooth, like velvet soaked in poison. It slithered into my mind, curling around my thoughts like smoke.
"Do it," it whispered. "Go on… you know you want it."
My body shivered.
The blood glistened, warm and waiting. My tongue felt heavy, my breath shallow.
"You've tasted power before… why stop now?"
My hands twitched. I wasn't just looking at the blood anymore. I was craving it. then—blackness.
Like the world had blinked. Like something had taken over. No thoughts. No sounds Just… void.
When I came back to my senses, I was no longer standing. I was kneeling. On top of Mark's corpse.
His torso—torn open. Ravaged. Unrecognizable. Blood soaked my hands, my arms, my face.
And my mouth. Still dripping. The metallic taste clung to my tongue like syrup. My breath hitched as I looked down.
More than half his body was… gone.
Eaten.
By me.
I stumbled back, slipping in the blood, heart pounding out a broken rhythm in my ears.
"W–What did I do…?" I whispered.
My voice cracked.
But no answer came.
Just the rustle of the wind…and the taste of guilt that wouldn't wash away.