The silence in the hospital room was too clean. Too bright. The machines hummed like they were mocking him, every beep a cruel reminder that she was still alive... just barely.
Eliza had been unresponsive for days. Some called it a coma. Others said her mind had snapped. But Joel knew better. He'd seen things,unholy things,when he raided that cult house. And now, as he stared at his wife lying cold and still beneath crisp white sheets, he knew something had followed them home.
The doctors had no answers. Science had no explanations. And faith? Faith had always been a slippery thing for Joel.
He sat slouched in the hospital chair, hands shaking, staring at the wedding ring on his finger. Yvonne's crayon drawing peeked from his coat pocket,a crude sketch of their little family, smiling. He couldn't bring himself to throw it away.
She still called every night.
Still asked when Mommy was coming home.
Still believed Daddy could fix anything.
He couldn't even tell her what happened. Not really. Not that Eliza had gone catatonic after waking up screaming in the middle of the night, clawing at shadows, speaking in a language no human tongue should know.
Joel had spent every minute since then chasing answers.
Which brought him here.
To the edge.
The cult leader,the one he hadn't killed,sat alone in the padded cell, humming that same awful melody he'd whispered during interrogation. Always smiling. Always watching.
Joel stood on the other side of the glass.
"You came back," the man said, his voice like sandpaper against stone. "Finally ready to understand?"
Joel's jaw clenched. "What did you do to my wife?"
The cult leader's smile widened, yellow teeth peeking through chapped lips. "I didn't do anything. You did. You brought her into the flame. The moment you crossed that threshold… it saw her. Tasted her. Marked her."
"You're sick."
"She's not gone," the man continued, ignoring him. "She's just... stuck. You want her back? There's a way."
Joel stepped closer. "What way?"
Now the cult leader leaned in, eyes gleaming like a man who knew he'd already won. "A trade."
Joel didn't speak.
"One life... for two. That's a deal you can live with, isn't it, Officer? Your wife and unborn child, returned to you. Whole. Happy. All it takes... is a little girl. One soul, willingly given."
Joel froze.
Then he laughed; short, bitter. "You think I'd give up my daughter?"
"Not give. Save. Yvonne's life will still be hers. She'll laugh. She'll grow. She'll be... special. She just won't belong to you anymore. Or this world."
Joel turned to leave.
But the cult leader said one last thing.
"She won't feel a thing. You, though? You'll get everything back. Your wife. Your family. Your peace."
That night, Joel drove home in silence. Yvonne ran to greet him with a hug. She didn't know anything was wrong.
He stared at her longer than usual. Hugged her tighter. That night, she slept peacefully.
And Joel stared at the ceiling, thinking of Eliza.And flame.
And the sound of that damn humming.