Night descended over the city park like a veil meant to suffocate rather than soothe. The lamps lining the pathway glowed weakly, their light fractured by mist, and every bench seemed colder than stone. Nia sat hunched on one of them, her arms locked around her knees as if holding herself together was the only thing keeping her from shattering entirely. Tears slid down her cheeks in slow, helpless streams, catching the lamplight before dripping into the fabric of her dress. Nyx's voice still echoed in her head—sharp, dismissive, final.
Leave my house.
The words felt heavier now than when he'd spoken them. As if they had grown weight with time. She pressed her forehead into her knees and whispered his name again and again, but it no longer sounded like a plea. It sounded like a farewell she hadn't agreed to. Each breath she took came uneven, broken, her chest aching as though something vital had been torn loose.
That was when footsteps approached—hesitant, careful, as if whoever walked feared disturbing her grief. Bob emerged from the misted path, his jacket pulled tight around him. He looked different tonight. Smaller. As though the easy confidence he carried every other day had been quietly stripped away.
"Nia…" he said, softly, unsure. "Are you okay?"
She lifted her head slowly. Her eyes were red, swollen, hollow. The sight struck Bob harder than he expected. Whatever words he had prepared dissolved instantly. Something warm and protective rose in his chest instead.
She broke.
The story spilled out of her in fractured sentences—Nyx's coldness, his rejection, the way his words had made her feel unwanted, expendable, like she had imagined her place in his life. Bob listened without interrupting, his jaw tightening with every sentence. By the time she finished, his hands were clenched into fists at his sides.
"You don't deserve that," he said quietly, anger flickering behind his eyes. "Come with me."
She hesitated only a second before nodding. Anywhere was better than here.
Bob led her to the old temple at the edge of town—a place people went when they were desperate for forgiveness or silence. The structure stood ancient and unmoving beneath the moon, its stone pillars pale and solemn. Wind chimes near the entrance stirred faintly, their sound echoing like distant prayers lost in time.
"Go inside," Bob urged gently. "This place… it clears the heart."
Nia stepped forward—but the moment her foot crossed the threshold, something went wrong.
The air thickened instantly, pressing against her lungs like invisible hands. Pain shot through her veins, sharp and burning. She gasped, clutching her chest as a faint crimson glow surfaced beneath her skin, tracing her veins like molten lines. Her knees buckled.
"Nia!" Bob shouted.
She collapsed onto the marble floor, her body trembling as if rejecting the space itself. The sacred energy of the temple reacted violently to her presence—repulsed, hostile. Bob rushed to her side, panic flooding his face as her eyes fluttered, unfocused.
Without thinking, he scooped her into his arms and stumbled back outside. The moment they crossed the boundary, the pressure eased. Her glow dimmed. Her breathing steadied—barely.
Bob stared down at her, shaken. The fragile girl he thought he knew suddenly felt… wrong. Powerful. Dangerous. Otherworldly.
And terrifyingly close to something he didn't understand.
Far away, in the suffocating stillness of his room, Nyx sat cross-legged on the floor, the Book of Origins open before him. Candle flames flickered violently as ancient words left his lips in a whisper that didn't belong to any living tongue.
The ritual had reached its end.
Dark energy surged through him, threading itself through bone and blood. His veins pulsed like liquid silver beneath his skin. His heartbeat slowed—then steadied into something colder, more deliberate. The blood Nia had once shared with him fused into his being, sealing the transformation.
Nyx inhaled sharply as power flooded his senses.
He was no longer human.
The realization hit him not with triumph, but with a hollow ache. His senses sharpened painfully—every sound, every movement, every breath in the world screaming for attention. Hunger coiled deep inside him, unfamiliar and relentless.
Then it happened.
A scent cut through the chaos.
Soft. Familiar. Terrifying.
Nia.
His eyes snapped open, glowing scarlet.
Nyx moved through the city like a specter, following the trail instinctively, without thought or restraint. It led him to Bob's neighborhood. To a half-lit house. To a sight that shattered something fragile inside him.
Through the window, he saw her—unconscious on Bob's couch.
Bob hovered near her, calling her name, brushing her hair back, desperate and afraid.
Something inside Nyx broke.
Not rage alone—but possession. Fear. Loss. The primal instinct of a being no longer governed by human restraint.
The door burst open.
Shadows surged with him as he entered, the air thickening, lights flickering wildly. Bob turned just in time to see Nyx's crimson eyes before he was hurled backward by an invisible force. His body struck the wall with a sickening crack, collapsing lifelessly to the floor.
Silence followed.
Nyx stood trembling, horror flooding his veins as he stared at Bob's still form—drained, colorless, empty.
A whisper curled through his mind.
Destiny.
Nyx didn't think. He lifted Nia and vanished into the night.
By dawn, she woke in her own bed, whole and unscarred, as though reborn. Nyx stood at the window, the morning light outlining him in gold, his expression unreadable.
"You're safe," he said quietly.
She smiled faintly.
But when she looked at him, she saw it—fear.
Bob's house became a crime scene by morning.
Joey's scream split the silence. Stacy collapsed beside him, sobbing, calling Nyx's name again and again.
No answer came.
The funeral arrived under gray skies.
Grief soaked the air.
Joey's words trembled as he spoke of loyalty, of friendship. Each sentence was a knife in Nyx's chest. When Nyx spoke, the truth spilled out raw and uncontrolled, igniting fury, heartbreak, and violence.
Rain fell harder.
The world fractured.
As night returned, Nyx walked beside Nia in silence.
"Whatever you've done," she said softly, "don't lose yourself."
Nyx looked at the blood-red sky and whispered,"Maybe I already have."
But somewhere deep within him—faint, wounded, stubborn—something human still survived.
And that frightened him more than the monster he had become.