Chapter 1 – Dead Hearts Don't Bleed
The café was still the same. Yellowish light, old wood, the smell of mold mixed with burnt coffee beans. A place where time seemed stuck, maybe by its own will. Cael no longer knew why he liked it there. Maybe because the rest of the world was always moving, and he preferred things that didn't change — even when they were already dead.
Clara arrived late, as always. Seven minutes. She wore the beige coat he had given her last Christmas. She sat across from him, trying to smile.
He didn't smile back.
"You called me…" she said, uncertain.
Cael stirred his coffee slowly. He didn't answer right away.
"I know," he said at last, without any emotion.
"You know?"
"About him. You and him. I always knew. I was just watching how long you would keep pretending."
She opened her mouth to say something, then shut it again.
"You're not going to ask me why?" she murmured, eyes glistening.
"No."
"Cael…"
"I just wanted to see you one more time. To confirm that it's over." He looked up. He was calm. Almost indifferent. "And that you're no longer the person I loved."
She tried to touch his hand over the table.
He pulled his hand back.
"So that's it?" her voice cracked in a whisper. "It's over?"
Cael stood up. He placed a bill under the cup, still full.
"It ended a long time ago. You just didn't have the courage to tell me. So I came to set you free."
She got up behind him.
"Cael, wait! Please… I…"
But he was already at the door. He paused only to say:
"Goodbye, Clara."
And he left without looking back.
The rain began soon after. Thick, heavy. As if the sky decided to wash the world by force.
Cael didn't mind. He let his coat soak through, let his hair stick to his forehead, let his thoughts sink.
The pain was there, of course. But he kept it locked in a corner of his chest, like a caged beast. He had learned early that showing pain was inviting others to push even harder.
He took a shortcut through a dark alley. He didn't care about the risk. At that point, fear wasn't a factor anymore.
Footsteps behind him.
"Hey! You're screwed, rich boy!"
Three of them. Young. Improvised masks. One with a knife, another with a metal pipe. The third looked the most nervous.
"Hand it all over, now!" the one with the knife barked.
Cael raised his hands, took out his phone, his wallet. Threw them on the ground.
"That's everything."
The one with the pipe moved to grab the items. The one with the knife stepped closer.
"Nice watch. Hand it over."
"It's broken."
"I want it anyway, asshole!"
Cael took a deep breath. His eyes locked onto the knife-holder.
Quick movement. He hooked the thief's leg, dropping him.
Before the other one could react, Cael grabbed the blade and drove it into the first attacker's neck.
Warm blood splattered.
The one with the pipe shouted, charging forward. He struck Cael in the shoulder.
Another blow. Cael fell to his knees.
"YOU SON OF A BITCH!" screamed the third, stabbing him in the abdomen.
The pain came with a metallic taste. But Cael smiled. A crooked smile, stained with blood.
"One of you is coming with me…"
He plunged the knife into the second attacker's stomach. Forced it until he felt the muscles give way.
They both collapsed together. A heap of flesh, blood, and rain.
The third ran away screaming, terrified.
Cael stared at the sky, breathing hard. The raindrops hit his face like fingers trying to wake him.
The world was dimming. The warmth of his blood was fading fast.
But before everything vanished, he heard a strange sound.
A whisper.
Something… calling.
And then, only darkness.