Tendril-like shadows poured out from the gnarled roots of the pale white tree, curling along the floor. It wrapped around the corpse, like an armour of shadow, before seeping into it. One tendril coiled through its left eye like a needle. Another through its barely open maw.
Eva's shoulders went rigid, and she rose quickly to her feet. "Ren…"
"No," Ren said sharply, standing now. "No, no, no—"
The corpse rose slowly to its feet, its back arching like something inside it had been shocked awake. Blood fell from the wolf's jaws in thick ropes, oozing between its yellowed teeth.
Eva backed up, hand rising over her mouth.
"What's happening?!"
Ren's voice was quiet, strained. "The tree…"
And then—
Its head jerked up unnaturally.
Snap
The neck cracked in the wrong direction first, then snapped back again, aligned only by force. The wolf's jaw unhinged wider, far past natural limits. Blood spilled further, leaking from its empty eyes now too, the black fluid curling with its crimson counterpart. A grotesque mimicry of tears.
Ren stood rigid, fists clenched, when a voice filled the chamber.
Not loud, nor shouted.
But everywhere.
Not from the tree. Not from the corpse.
From inside them.
From the space between them.
From the stone beneath their feet.
"You ruin everything I touch."
Eva staggered at the voice.
"I gave that poor little thing peace, and you...it was you who stole it. I smothered its agony. Made it forget what it once was. And you…Yes, it's you who reminded it of pain."
Ren stared, unmoving, as the roots twitched, shifting into the faint outline of her.
Mother
Tall
Veiled
Behind the blackened figure, the wolf's legs shuddered beneath it as its frame stabilized.
And then her voice coiled around him again. "Oh...Hollow."
His lips parted slightly. "What did you call me?"
"That is what you are...A vessel cracked too many times to hold anything inside." The silhouette drifted closer just a little. "You keep pretending you feel, but you...don't."
Eva looked over at Ren, whose eyes widened at Mother's words. She could no longer hear the voice, but knew it was still speaking to Ren.
"Ren...don't fall for it." Eva began to plead in a worried tone. "Remember why you came here."
"You imitate...Pain, love, rage—just habitual traits flickering through what's left of you. You've died too many times. Bled too much blood. You no longer know what it means to be human."
Behind her, the beast hunched low to the floor.
Watching
Waiting
"You feel the emptiness, don't you?" Mother continued. "The blur...You walk through this forest like a ghost that hasn't realized it died."
"I'm alive..." Ren said under his breath.
"Hmmm...empty words." The Mother tilted her head, and even without seeing her face, they could sense her smile. "What good is lying to yourself..."
Behind her, the wolf took a shuddering step forward.
Its claws scraped across the stone.
Eva stepped back, grabbing at his sleeve, her voice caught in her throat. "We have to go."
"She's your tether," Mother said knowingly, lifting a shadow-like arm to point at Eva. "But even that will fray. Eventually, she'll look at you and see exactly what I see...A shell pretending to hold a soul."
Eva's eyes widened. "Ren—"
Ren's fingers twitched toward his hip, but there was nothing there.
Just the ghost of instinct, betrayed by the absence of steel.
"Hollow, a vessel with nothing inside," She repeated, tasting it like a name long remembered. "You no longer exist...You don't belong to yourself anymore."
And then—
The wolf stepped through her, the shadow form disappearing.
"You belong to me..." The mother said before completely vanishing.
The beast stared them down with weeping black eyes and flayed lips.
Ren yanked Eva's hand and ran.
The stairway was ahead—just a dozen steps and a turn away.
The wolf's claws cracked against stone behind them. Snarls echoed off the walls. That impossible weight slammed into the earth again and again like war drums, getting louder, faster, closer.
They were almost there, just a few steps away.
Ren looked over his shoulder, seeing how fast the beast was closing the distance.
"We're not gonna make it..." Ren thought to himself.
A roar split the chamber, deafening and low, as it leapt at them.
In one motion, he turned his body into hers and shoved Eva forward—his hand at the center of her back as he pushed her toward the opening of the stairway.
"Ren!" She cried as she saw the incoming strike.
Then came the blow.
A swipe of pure force—shadow-wrapped claws dragging across his ribs like a reaper's hand.
Crack
Pain exploded down his side, his feet coming off the ground, sending him colliding against the wall. He gasped, blood spraying from his mouth instantly.
He dropped like dead weight.
Through his blurry vision, he looked up to see Eva standing at the entrance of the stairs. Ink-like tears streaked her face, her dark dress fluttering in the windless air.
Her hands trembled at her sides, white-knuckled, torn between staying and running.
He knew that look.
He'd worn it before.
And he wouldn't let her make the mistake he always did.
Ren forced his bloodied right palm down and pushed himself upright. His left arm hung limp at his side when he rose. Between the stairway and him now stood the zombified wolf.
"No more..." Ren muttered to himself, then louder through a short gasp of air. "Eva—go."
She shook her head, stepping down one stair. "I'm not leaving you."
"I'm not—" Ren took a breath that felt like knives down his ribs, "I'm not asking."
Slowly, she took a step up the stairway. Her fingers curled tightly into her palm, her lips quivering as she fully turned, escaping back up the stairs.
His chest heaved, and he coughed hard, raw and brutal. Blood splattered on the stone below, thick and dark. He groaned through clenched teeth, breath shuddering, as he looked at the stairway once more.
She was gone from view, but the image of her remained in his mind: her trembling lips, her clenched fists before she left.
She was crying for him.
A small, broken smile tugged at his lips.
"She cried for me…" He whispered, voice hoarse and trembling.
As if that truth, that proof he still mattered to someone, was stronger than the pain.
He turned back to face the beast, dragging himself forward.
"I'm still here..."
His blood smeared behind him like a trail, his left arm limp at his side, his legs barely holding.
But he moved.
Because someone had cried for him.
Because someone still believed in him.