12:05

  Thomas woke up at 12:05.

  He didn't open his eyes.

  Because his eyes were already open.

  The ceiling hung there, still, right above him.

  A thin crack ran across the wooden panel. He remembered that crack—when it rained, water dripped through it.

  Consciousness returned slowly.

  The first thing he felt wasn't fear.

  It was—

  Wrongness.

  His body felt taken apart.

  Bones tight.

  Muscles rigid.

  Like something was slowly pressing from the inside.

  Then another feeling.

  Hunger.

  Ravenous hunger.

  Like a void had opened deep in his gut.

  And that void was eating him alive.

  Thomas tried to lift his hand.

  His hand didn't move.

  He stopped.

  Tried again.

  Still nothing.

  Fingers.

  Feet.

  Neck.

  Eyes.

  None of them worked.

  His body was a puppet nailed to the bed.

  Fear began to spread.

  Why can't I move?

  Then—

  A sound in the room.

  Dragging.

  Slow.

  Heavy.

  Then footsteps.

  One step.

  Another.

  This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author's work.

  Thomas could only stare at the doorway.

  A few seconds later.

  Someone walked into view.

  It was his mother.

  Her clothes were soaked through with blood.

  It dripped from the hem onto the floor.

  She moved slowly.

  Like she was drunk.

  Swaying slightly.

  Thomas's mind clenched.

  Mum?

  Then she turned, passing the bed—

  And Thomas saw her back.

  For one moment, his consciousness reeled.

  Her back had split open.

  Not a knife wound.

  Not an injury from outside.

  More like her body had burst from within.

  Shoulder blades had punched through her skin, jutting out from behind.

  Ribs had torn through flesh, white bone exposed to the air.

  The skin itself ripped apart by some force from inside.

  Flesh peeled back.

  Blood vessels had burst under the skin, dark red lines crawling up her back.

  Just the damage on her back should have been fatal.

  But she kept walking.

  One step.

  Another.

  Like a puppet on strings.

  She didn't look at Thomas.

  Didn't stop.

  Didn't speak.

  She just walked out of the room.

  The door closed.

  Silence again.

  Thomas's mind was still frozen on what he'd just seen.

  Then—

  His body sat up.

  He didn't do it.

  His body sat up on its own.

  Fear detonated.

  Stop!

  His body didn't stop.

  Feet hit the floor.

  Then it started walking.

  One step.

  Another.

  Like a machine.

  He was carried out of the house.

  The air outside smelled of rust.

  The streets were unnaturally quiet.

  Soon, Thomas saw the others.

  They emerged from different houses.

  Stepping slowly onto the street.

  Moving in the same direction.

  Thomas realised quickly.

  They were all like his mother.

  Their bodies were wrecked.

  A man's arm bone punched through his skin.

  A woman's collarbone pushed out from inside.

  And one person—

  Ribs had torn through his chest.

  Like white claws.

  All of them had the same kind of wounds.

  Not attacked.

  Their bodies had come apart from within.

  But they kept walking.

  Silent.

  Slow.

  Like a moving river.

  Then—

  A mirror at the corner of the street.

  An old mirror outside a barbershop.

  Thomas's body passed in front of it.

  His eyes fell on the reflection.

  He saw himself.

  Time stretched.

  The person in the mirror—

  Face grey.

  Lips blackened.

  One side of his face split open.

  But the worst was his chest.

  His sternum had been forced apart.

  Bone bent outward on both sides.

  A split ran right through the middle of his chest.

  And wedged in that split—

  A dark green piece of jade.

  Thomas's mind lurched.

  Is that me?

  Then—

  A voice.

  "It is you."

  Thomas jolted.

  The voice wasn't coming from the street.

  It was coming from inside his body.

  Who the hell—?!

  The voice was calm.

  "Easy."

  "If I wanted you dead, you'd already be gone."

  Thomas forced his thoughts to move.

  Where are you?

  "Your chest."

  Thomas thought of the jade.

  He made himself focus.

  What are you?

  A pause.

  "Someone temporarily sharing your body."

  Thomas's mind tightened.

  Are you controlling me?

  "No."

  The voice answered.

  "If it was me, you wouldn't be heading there."

  Thomas caught it immediately.

  There?

  The crowd kept moving.

  The street opened up.

  A square ahead.

  Then—

  Fire.

  A massive fire burned in the centre of the square.

  Above the flames.

  A tower.

  A tower of bodies.

  Limbs piled on limbs.

  The crowd kept feeding bodies into the fire.

  With every body dropped in.

  The tower grew taller.

  Thousands of people moved across the square.

  Silent.

  Slow.

  Like a great river.

  Thomas's consciousness sank.

  What is that?

  The voice in the jade answered.

  "Someone's controlling your body. They want it to go into that fire."

  Why?

  A pause.

  "If you walk into that fire."

  Another pause.

  "You won't come out."

  Thomas's mind clenched.

  Then why are you helping me?

  The voice was quiet.

  "I was asked to."

  ---

  The crowd kept moving.

  The fire was getting closer.

  Thomas lifted his gaze.

  At the top of the tower of bodies.

  Someone stood there.

  A red cloak, shifting above the flames.

  He stood at the summit.

  Looking down at the whole square.

  Looking down at everyone walking towards the fire.

  The voice in the jade spoke again.

  Low.

  Slow.

  "You see him?"

  "An Ability User. The Blood Flesh Magus."

  ---

  Thomas was about to ask more when the voice continued.

  "And the one called 'The Chariot' just arrived."

  Another pause.

  "You're about to see something interesting."