VIVIAN
Morning light streams through hospital windows. Harsh. Unforgiving. Exposing everything.
Chase survived the night. Barely. Ambulance came. Paramedics stabilized. Doctors confused. Tests showing nothing. Physical health perfect. But he's, he's gone. Distant. Hollow. Empty.
I've been here twelve hours. Sitting beside his bed. Watching him breathe. Watching him exist without living. Watching curse consume what's left of Chase Sterling.
His eyes are blue again. Not black. The curse hiding. Waiting. Preparing for next strike. But the veins are still visible. Faint black lines under his skin. Permanent marks. Evidence of last night's manifestation. Evidence of final stage beginning. Evidence of time running out.
"Chase?" I whisper. For the hundredth time. "Can you hear me? Are you there? Is any of you left or did the curse take everything?"
He doesn't respond. Hasn't responded all night. Just stares at ceiling. Breathing. Existing. Nothing more.
