Eva tossed and turned in her sleep, trapped in a nightmare that clawed at her soul. Her heart pounded in her chest as the dream unfolded with horrifying clarity.
Danielle’s scream echoed in her mind, high-pitched and full of terror. Eva could feel the sting of the moment as if she were standing right there, watching helplessly. She saw Danielle, her twin sister, struggling as Sylvester’s dark figure loomed over her, fangs glinting under the moonlight. The sharp, violent motion as Sylvester sank his teeth into Danielle’s neck sent waves of nausea through Eva. She could hear the sickening crunch of bone and the sickly drip of blood, the scent of it thick in the air, tainting everything.
Eva’s breath came in ragged gasps, her body cold with sweat, but the nightmare wasn’t over. The scene shifted, and now she was standing in a circle of fire. Blood pooled around her feet as a baby—no, not just any baby, but Sylvester’s child—was born in flames. The air crackled with the intensity of it, and Eva could feel the heat searing her skin. She reached out in desperation, but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t stop the fire, couldn’t save the innocent life that was about to be consumed by it.
She screamed. Her voice was lost in the chaos, drowned out by the crackling flames and the shrill cries of pain.
And then, everything went dark.
Eva shot up in bed, gasping for breath, her chest heaving as though she had just run a marathon. Her skin was clammy, her hands trembling as she wiped away the tears that had fallen during the nightmare. She was soaked in sweat, but it was the coldness of her fear that clung to her like a second skin.
“Max,” she whispered, her voice breaking as she reached out in the dark.
Before she could find him, his strong arms were around her, pulling her into his chest. She collapsed against him, her sobs coming in harsh, uncontrollable waves. His warmth surrounded her, grounding her in the reality that she was no longer trapped in that terrifying dream.
“It’s okay,” Max’s voice was soft, yet firm as he held her close. His hands moved over her back in slow, soothing strokes, as if trying to erase the remnants of her nightmare. “You’re safe now.”
But even in his arms, the terror refused to leave her. The images of Danielle’s scream, Sylvester’s blood-soaked birth, and the overwhelming darkness that seemed to follow her everywhere she went, lingered in the back of her mind. It felt as if she were losing herself, losing control of everything that had once made her strong.
“I’m scared,” she confessed, her voice barely more than a whisper, but it felt like the heaviest thing she had ever said. Her body shook against his, and she let her tears fall freely now, knowing he wouldn’t judge her. “I’m scared of what I’ve made… of what I’ll become.”
Max didn’t say anything for a moment. Instead, he tightened his hold on her, pressing his lips to the top of her head. His voice, when it came, was steady, filled with the weight of the truth.
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