Ren's limbs dangled like butchered meat, a shadow tendril still jutting through his abdomen. Blood poured from him in thick streams, soaking the dark coils that held him aloft.
"Still…alive," He wheezed, the words gurgling up through a throat half-drowned in blood.
He raised a trembling hand toward her—barely—but his arm refused to go farther than a few inches before it spasmed. Muscles twitched, then fell limp. His entire body began to convulse as nerves misfired. Fingers curled. Legs kicked once, then hung limp. His lungs rattled as blood filled them. And still, Nocstella did nothing. She simply watched him fade.
Then, her voice broke the silence.
"Tell me, Hollow…"
Ren tried to lift his head. His neck barely obeyed. His eyes rolled toward her, unfocused.
She stepped closer, her pale hand rising—not to strike, not to heal, but to gesture.
"Why did you follow her voice?" She asked. "Eva's…"
Nocstella tilted her head and stepped beneath him, positioning herself so his ruined body loomed directly overhead. She placed one hand at the base of the tendril suspending him.
"She pleaded for help…and you followed," Nocstella continued. "Even in the back of your mind, you believed it all to be a lie." Her crimson eyes shimmered as she looked up at him. "Could it be that it reminded you of that night?"
Ren coughed in response, blood spilling over his lips.
"You've forgotten, haven't you?" Nocstella asked in a gentle voice. "You've died too many times. The edges of who you were have already frayed." She smiled. "Very well. Let me remind you."
Ren twitched, trying to jerk away.
"Don't—"
But she continued.
"Outside…just beyond the trees behind your home. She went where no one could follow. Such a poor soul, broken down by a cruel world. And you—you needed too much, didn't you?"
Ren's mouth opened, but no sound came.
"You were always sick. Always needing something. And even though she loved you…" Nocstella exhaled through her nose. "She couldn't do it anymore." She lifted her palm from the blackened tendril. "I remember. You woke up crying. That there were monsters in your room—hiding in the corners, behind closet doors, under your bed. You called out to her, but there was no response."
Her gaze sharpened.
"She always came when you cried. Every time. No matter the circumstance. Even when your father yelled. Even when she herself was deeply ill. But that night…"
Ren let out a broken, rasping breath. "Don't."
"…She didn't come," Nocstella continued. "So you got out of bed. Limped through the dark hallway. Past the bathroom. Past the kitchen. Calling for her. Whispering her name. The back door was cracked open. You thought she'd stepped outside for fresh air." She shook her head. "But she wasn't there. Your tiny hands trembled as you stepped into the woods. Barefoot. The ground cold beneath your feet. You called for her again and again. She still wouldn't answer…"
Ren whimpered—a small, childlike sound.
"And when you found her…swinging from the branch, her nightgown caught by the wind…what did you do then, Hollow?"
"No…" Ren rasped, his voice ruined.
"You touched her feet," Nocstella said. "You thought she was asleep."
"Shut…up…"
"You cried out her name. And when she didn't answer, you pulled at her leg. Just enough for her body to spin. The creak of the rope. The thud of her heel against the trunk. And your own sobs."
Tears mingled with the blood drying on his face.
"You stayed with her all night. Sitting beneath her corpse until morning came. Too afraid to go back inside. Too afraid to be alone with your father. So you waited…"
Ren no longer had the strength to resist. His eyes slowly began to close.
"Don't you see now? The voice that called to you in the dark…was hers."
The tendril tightened, drawing another gout of blood from his abdomen. Ren gave no response—only shallow, weakening breaths.
"You didn't run to save Eva…You ran because you believed—somewhere deep inside—that if you followed that voice long enough…you'd find your mother again." She smiled with the warmth only a mother could wear. "But she's gone now, Hollow. She chose to leave you."
Nocstella stopped, letting her words sink into Ren before she continued.
"And she didn't even say goodnight."
Nocstella watched his body give up. The silence confirmed it.
There was nothing left, hatred and fury long gone.
"Go on," She whispered. "Close your eyes."
From the soil beneath him—and the sky above—from the blackened trees surrounding the glade, they answered. Dozens of tendrils rose. They emerged, coiling through the air like ribbons. Twisting in synchronized spirals, they formed a black halo around his broken body.
Then—
They struck.
CRACK
One drove through his right thigh, blowing the femur apart.
SPLURCH
Another pierced beneath his ribs, bursting out his back in a violent gout of blood.
CRUNCH
A tendril curled around his neck—gentle at first, like a lover's hand—before yanking down. Vertebrae split. His head lolled to the side, nearly torn free.
SQUELCH
Another plunged into his gasping mouth, punching through his tongue, out the back of his throat, and deep into the ground beyond—pinning his skull in place like a beast on a spear.
His body writhed, twitching.
The final tendril, slow in descent, hovered above.
It twisted down from above like a serpent from heaven.
Nocstella stepped beneath him. Blood dripped onto her shoulders from where he hung—suspended and punctured, a grotesque constellation.
She looked up one last time, her voice was almost tender.
"She never said it to you…so let me say it for her."
Her eyes softened.
"Goodnight."
SHLUNK
The final tendril drove straight through the top of Ren's skull. Bone shattered like porcelain. His head jerked once, then fell limp as the tendril twisted—then withdrew with a wet, sucking sound.
One by one, the tendrils retracted.
Some slithered back into the soil. Others curled skyward like smoke and vanished.
All that remained was Ren's mangled corpse. Barely recognizable as human.
Nocstella stood over him in silence, fingers interlocked before her. Her feet settled into the red-soaked earth. Then she turned—her shadow stretching long in the dying light.
She waited as she knew. Ren would rise again.