The hum of the fluorescent lights in Elias’s study was the only sound in the house, a steady, buzzing drone that usually helped him think. Tonight, however, it felt like a serrated blade scraping against his skull.
Elias reached for a glass of water, but his hand stopped mid-air. In the reflection of the dark window, he didn't see himself. He saw a version of Elias whose eyes were just a shade too wide, whose smile was just a fraction too sharp. It was the "origin story of pain" he had spent a lifetime suppressing, now clawing its way to the surface.
His latest client, a philanthropist named Julian Vane, had a secret that made Elias’s blood run cold. Vane didn’t want a murder covered up. He wanted a transformation documented. He believed that evil wasn't a choice, but a dormant parasite waiting for the right host—and he had found a host in Elias.
The hum of the fluorescent lights in Elias’s study was the only sound in the house, a steady, buzzing drone that usually helped him think. Tonight, however, it felt like a serrated blade scraping against his skull.
Elias reached for a glass of water, but his hand stopped mid-air. In the reflection of the dark window, he didn't see himself. He saw a version of Elias whose eyes were just a shade too wide, whose smile was just a fraction too sharp. It was the "origin story of pain" he had spent a lifetime suppressing, now clawing its way to the surface.
His latest client, a philanthropist named Julian Vane, had a secret that made Elias’s blood run cold. Vane didn’t want a murder covered up. He wanted a transformation documented. He believed that evil wasn't a choice, but a dormant parasite waiting for the right host—and he had found a host in Elias.