Crimson whispers
By Elara Ravenwood vex.
The whispers never stopped.
They clawed at her mind in the dead of night, soft and sinister, like a promise wrapped in blood. Elara had fallen once—deep and reckless—into the emerald eyes of a demon. His touch had burned her soul, igniting a fire she thought was love. But love with him was a curse dressed in silk and shadow.
Now, she ran...
Every step echoed with the weight of a thousand broken vows. Her heart pounded—not just with fear, but with the ache of a love twisted beyond redemption. He hunted her, his voice a dark melody trailing through the wind, dragging memories she wished to forget.
She was desperate for peace, a silence free from his cruel serenade.
But some whispers don't fade.
They bleed.
The night bled.
A silence far too loud swallowed the cursed wind as it slithered through the skeletal trees, carrying secrets not meant to be spoken aloud. In the heart of the woods, where no stars dared shine and even the moon turned its face away, she ran—barefoot, broken, and burning with dread.
Elara's crimson cloak clung to her like skin, torn at the edges, soaked in more than just rain. Her breath came in ragged bursts, ghosting in the cold air. Each step forward was a whisper of rebellion, a defiance against the chains she had once called vows.
Behind her, the darkness was not just night—it was him.
The King with eyes that drank fear. The husband who wore kindness like a mask and wrath like a crown. The demon who ruled with a smile and slaughtered with silence. And now, the throne she had fled mourned her absence with blood.
They say the whispers began the night she escaped.
Voices in mirrors. Shadows that bled. Dreams that bit.
Some say the forest cursed her.
Some say she cursed the forest.
But only she knew the truth.
She hadn't escaped.
Not really.
The real horror wasn't behind her.
It was inside her.
_____
The night air was thick with silence, broken only by the ragged sound of her breath. Elara's feet barely touched the cracked pavement as she ran, the chill of fear curling deep inside her chest. Behind her, shadows twisted and writhed and alive, watching, waiting.
He had once whispered promises of eternal devotion, his voice like velvet and venom intertwined. She had believed him, foolishly, when he said he was hers and hers alone. But love, she'd learned, can bleed into something far darker.
Now, his eyes burned like embers in the darkness, hunting her with a hunger that no human heart could withstand. The demon she once embraced had become the nightmare she couldn't escape.
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Every street, every whisper of wind, carried his presence.
Elara Ravenwood vex.