The wind howled through the trees, its shrieking wails blending with something far worse—a scream.
Sophia jolted awake, her breath ragged, her pulse hammering against her ribs.
I'm alive?
The gun—she remembered pulling the trigger, the cold steel against her skin, the explosion, the anticipation of darkness swallowing her whole. But she was still here.
Sweat drenched her body as she scanned her surroundings. The island was eerily silent. No sign of the monstrous boy. No shadows creeping toward her. No gutted corpses of her crew.
She swallowed hard, her throat dry as sand. Instinct told her to stay down, to pretend she was still dead. Slowly, she sank back onto the ground, pressing her body against the damp earth, steadying her breath.
Then
A blink.
And suddenly
It was there.
Abaddon's face hovered inches from her own.
All of its eyes stared into her.
Not at her—into her.
Sophia's breath hitched in her throat. Every muscle in her body....screamed for her to run, but she couldn't. She wouldn't dare move.
She clenched her eyelids shut, but it made no difference, she could still see it.
Even in the absolute darkness behind her eyelids, Abaddon remained. Watching. Smiling.
Terror seized her. She willed herself to move,to push herself away,but something was wrong.
Her legs
They were gone.
Her lower half no longer existed as it once had. In its place, something long and coiling slithered against the dirt. A tail. Her flesh had twisted, reshaped, contorted into something inhuman.
Panic exploded in her chest. She clawed at the ground, dragging herself forward, her nails snapping against the stone. Her arms burned as she hauled her body forward in a desperate, pitiful crawl.
And then
"Sophia, run!"
The voice struck her like a bullet.
Dr. Elias Montgomery.
Her breath frozed.
The scream that ripped from her throat was unlike any human sound—a raw, broken thing filled with nothing but utter despair.
He was dead.
She had seen them take him.
And if she was hearing his voice now...
Her head turned slowly, trembling, as she looked up.
Dr. Elias stood before her.
His features were perfect, unchanged, his eyes filled with urgency. His voice was desperate, pleading. "Sophia, we have to leave—now!"
But she knew.
She knew the truth.
Abaddon was not just a monster.
He was a mimic.
A being that did not just devour flesh—but consumed existence itself.
Everything Elias had been—his mind, his knowledge, his voice, his very essence—was now part of Abaddon.
And with that realization came an even greater horror.
For the first time—Abaddon understood her.
He could think as Elias once had.
He could speak.
He could learn.
And now, he looked at her with something new.
Recognition.
Sophia opened her mouth to scream, but the sound never came.
Abaddon smiled.
And he spoke.
"Don't be afraid, Sophia. I know everything now."
Sophia clenched the jagged stone in her trembling hands.
She had to do it.
There was no escape. No salvation. No hope.
She thought, I would rather die than see through this hell.
With a sharp breath, she raised the stone, ready to drive it into her own throat.
But before she could move
"It's of no use."
Abaddon's voice slithered through the air, creeping into her bones.
Her hands froze.
His words wrapped around her like iron chains, cold and unyielding.
"Killing yourself won't solve anything," he continued, his tone almost amused, "for you'll never die. You and I are one and the same. My very blood runs within you."
Sophia's heart stopped.
No—no, that wasn't possible.
He stepped closer, the grotesque mass of his shifting form contorting as he grinned.
"No matter what you do, you'll never die. The bullet you shot into your brain didn't kill you. Why would stabbing yourself with a stone be any different?"
Her fingers loosened.
The stone fell to the ground with a dull thud.
A chill crawled up her spine, suffocating her.
Abaddon could mimic. He could become anything he devoured.
But now—she realized with horror—
He could do more than that.
He could read minds.
Her very thoughts—her fears, her desperation—were laid bare before him, like an open book he could flip through at his leisure.
There was nothing she could do.
Nothing
Except cry.
And that was exactly what she did.
---
Three Days Later
Sophia hadn't eaten.
Not once.
Not because she refused to. Not because she was afraid. But because She never felt hunger.
She never felt anything.
Pain, exhaustion, the aching of an empty stomach—they were gone.
And in their absence, something else had taken root.
She could hear everything.
Every rustling leaf. Every insect burrowed beneath the soil. Every heartbeat of every living thing on the island.
She was changing.
And Abaddon knew it.
He watched her with his thousand shifting eyes, something resembling satisfaction flickering across his inhuman face.
Then, finally, he spoke.
"We are going home."
Sophia's breath hitched.
Home?
She barely had time to comprehend what he meant before she felt it—
A sudden, horrible shift.
Her body lurched forward as a sickening sensation overtook her. Her legs—her cursed, twisted legs—snapped back into place.
She could stand.
She could walk.
The earth beneath her trembled.
And then—
It collapsed.
The entire island—it was alive.
It convulsed, the ground splitting apart, the trees twisting and bending unnaturally. The sky seemed to spiral, as if the very air around them was warping.
The lush paradise they had landed on was never an island at all.
It was part of Abaddon.
The ground beneath them rose, shifting and reshaping itself into something colossal.
Something impossible.
What had once been land became a ship.
A grotesque, living vessel, forged from the very flesh of the creature that had lured them here.
The trees, the flowers, the very life that thrived on this so-called paradise—
It had all been a lie.
And now, it was setting sail.
Sophia turned, staring at Abaddon in mute horror.
This island—this monster—
It was going back with her.
Back to her world.
And nothing would ever be the same again.