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For a moment, she’d considered leaving the corpse as it was and going back to bed, convinced it would disappear in the morning just as all her mind’s conjurings did.
For as long as she could remember, the voice had been there, in the darkest corners of her mind, telling her to walk through certain doorways or her entire family would perish.
“Go home,” the stranger advised. “A house of Devils is no place for an angel like you.”
“A heart and a key would set me free,” it said. “But you should hope we do not meet again, angel.”
“Lastly, and perhaps most important of all—fall in love within Phantasma at your own risk.”
“This will make the competition particularly hellish for you.”
“Ophelia,” he repeated, tasting every syllable. Her name on his tongue sounded like a wicked prayer. “You are exactly the person I’ve been waiting for.”
“If you fail”—one corner of his mouth lifted in a grim smile as he spoke—“one decade of your life span will be transferred to me.”
“Angel, you have not seen even a modicum of what I am capable of,”
What would it be like to have someone so enraptured with you that they forgot everything else around them?
“You came.” “You called,” he answered.
“I will never beg you for anything,” she said. He grinned. “Famous last words.”
“You can do anything you want, angel,” he inserted, voice gruff. “I’d let you drag me to the depths of Hell right now if that would please you.”
“You can have everything, angel.”
Fall in love within Phantasma at your own risk.
“I think you might be the closest to heaven I’ll ever get,” he whispered.
“If there were ever a divine entity I’d worship,” he murmured, “it’d be you.”
“The only person who has ever made me feel truly seen.” She swallowed.
“In a different life, in a fair one, I would’ve kept you until my eternal soul withered away to dust,” he vowed to her.
Yes, Necromancer, the Shadow Voice encouraged. Embrace your calling, harbinger of death. Unleash your darkness on the world.
You don’t need to fix yourself. You’re not broken. But it’s okay to get outside help if it gets too loud.
“He will always come to me,” she whispered. “We find each other every time. And you cannot stand that, because it means I’m no longer alone with you.”
“But I felt you calling. I’ve never had that sort of connection with any other contestant before. I told you before that nothing would ever stop me from getting to you if you needed me, and that will remain true forevermore. I would tear the universe apart at its seams if I must.”
“In all the darkness, in all the loneliness, you have been my one source of light,” he lamented as she began to come undone. “My soul will go to its grave with your name echoing in my mind.”
Which meant her father had lost around the day of the eighth level… this level. And the person her father loved most, the one who would have been used in this trial for him…
“Firstly, let me reintroduce myself.” He dipped his head in a formal bow. “My name is Salemaestrus Erasmus Blackwell, Prince of the Devils. But you, angel, may call me Salem.”
“Please…” she swallowed with effort, “… please, don’t forget me.” “Never.” “You promise?” she pleaded. “I swear, Angel,” he avowed.
The only thought echoing in his mind her name. As it would until there was nothing left of him but dust. Angel.
And I want you to know that I will gladly take on whatever this place is going to curse me with knowing you will finally get out of the Hell you’ve been trapped in for so long.”
The matter of my soul will always have your name etched into it.
