Six months had passed since that fateful night, and Felix sat by the large bay window in his two-story apartment, gazing at the endless expanse of the ocean. His home was situated on the outskirts of a quiet coastal town, a place far from Briarcliff, nestled along the Atlantic coastline. From his vantage point, he could see the endless stretch of the blue Atlantic Ocean, the waves lazily rolling onto the shore. The white-painted exterior of the building gleamed in the late summer sunlight, and the surrounding trees swayed gently in the breeze, their leaves rustling like beautiful melodies in the air.

  Inside, Felix sat on a cushioned chair by the large window that dominated the living room, one leg propped against the cold, glossy tile floor. Behind him, the open-plan layout led into the kitchen, where granite countertops gleamed under the soft lighting, and a single vase of fresh flowers sat in the center of the dining table. The ground floor opened into the living area, kitchen, and dining space, while the upstairs led to a private bedroom and study. His living room was arranged so that the chair near the window provided an unobstructed view of the Atlantic Ocean, the horizon stretching out endlessly, merging the azure sky with the deep blue of the ocean. Every evening, the sun dipped into the water, setting the waves aglow in gold and amber hues, a sight that Felix had come to cherish.

  The cool ocean breeze wafted in through the slightly open window, carrying the scent of salt and summer with it. Felix’s smile was genuine, a brightness that had long been absent from his face. His auburn hair, once unkempt and unruly, was now neatly styled—short on the sides but with enough length on top that it fell naturally across his forehead in a stylish wave. His face had gained some color, the hollowed cheeks of his former self now filled with healthy flesh. He had added some muscle to his lanky frame, too, though he still preferred the dark, understated clothing that had become his uniform—a black jacket, a matching black t-shirt, and black jeans. The contrast between the Felix of six months ago and the man who now sat by the window was almost startling.

  But even as he took in the peaceful view, a knot tightened in his chest. He had never felt so free, so detached from the world of blood and fear he had once known. But sometimes, late at night, when the house was quiet, he’d wake up with the sound of a scream echoing in his ears—a scream that didn’t belong to him.

  He stood up, stretching lazily as he made his way to the kitchen. As he moved through the apartment, he passed by several mirrors strategically placed around the home. He hadn’t realized how much he enjoyed looking at himself until recently. It wasn’t vanity, not exactly. It was more like reassurance—proof that the boy who had been terrified of his own shadow, who had once run from the darkness that haunted him, was no longer the one standing in the mirror.

  This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

  In the kitchen, Felix opened the fridge and pulled out a few ingredients—fresh strawberries, whipped cream, and cold lemonade. It was summer, after all, and the warmth in the air called for something light and refreshing. He prepared a bowl of strawberries with a dollop of whipped cream, pouring himself a tall glass of lemonade to go with it. Satisfied with his creation, he grabbed the plate and headed back toward the living room.

  As Felix carried the snack back to the living room, he stopped by one of the mirrors. He turned to stare at his reflection, his plate in one hand, his glass in the other.

  What stared back at him was neither the frightened boy who had once cowered before the world nor the bloodthirsty monster who had nearly been consumed by it. No, what looked back at him now was a strange blend of both.

  His face, more angular now, was no longer soft with innocence, and the sweetness that had once clung to his features had been replaced with something sharper, darker. His lips curved into a faint smile, but it was a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. His eyes... The eyes of a predator.

  Felix tilted his head slightly, smiling faintly as he wondered what the Butcher would think if he saw him now. Would he still see the same vulnerable prey? Or would he recognize the predator standing in front of him? Could the Butcher have killed him, or would he have seen something familiar in Felix—a younger version of himself, perhaps?

  The thought made Felix smile wider as he turned away from the mirror and went back to his spot by the window. He sat down, taking a sip of his lemonade and a bite of his strawberries. The refreshing chill of the drink and the tart sweetness of the fruit that melted on his tongue matched the beautiful summer day outside.

  As he chewed thoughtfully, his mind wandered. Maybe I should visit Elaine, he thought. It’s been a while. His sister had been on his mind lately. He hadn’t seen her since he was thirteen. What would she think of him now? Would she see the same brother she once knew, or would she see something darker? But he had to see her again so he could tell her that he was alright.

  Felix gave a small smile at the thought, his eyes drifting back to the ocean. "It’ll be beautiful," he whispered to himself.

  But as he looked out at the serene ocean, there was a question he couldn’t shake. Had the darkness left him, or had he become the darkness?

  Had Felix truly escaped his past, or had he simply embraced it, letting it shape him into something else? Something darker.

  As the sun began to set, casting a golden hue over the water, Felix's amber eyes gleamed, the predatory glint still present, as he felt something he hadn’t felt in years.

  Peace.