Angelo sat across from Sophia, the flickering light casting jagged shadows across his face. The room was quiet—too quiet, as if the house itself was holding its breath.
She stared at him, unmoving.
"It's inside you," she whispered, her voice like dry leaves brushing stone. "I can feel it… coiling beneath your skin. It's awake now. It's watching."
Olivia clutched Angelo's hand tighter, her grip trembling. Angelo didn't flinch. He just stared back into Sophia's eyes—hollow, calm, unnervingly still.
"Tell me how to get rid of it," he said. His voice was low. Controlled. Almost too calm.
Sophia's eyes narrowed. "You can't."
Silence fell, thick and suffocating.
"It's bound to you," she continued, each word heavy as stone. "It feeds on you. And if you try to cut it out… it will take everything with it."
Olivia broke. A sob escaped her lips, sharp and raw. James turned his face away, jaw clenched, eyes dark with helplessness. Alex stood in the corner, his fists clenched tight, his expression unreadable.
"But…" Sophia said softly, "…it can be suppressed. Temporarily."
Hope flickered like a dying ember.
"How?" James asked.
"What do we do?" Alex added, voice low but firm.
Sophia's gaze returned to Angelo. "Show me the marks."
He hesitated for a breath. Then, without a word, turned and slowly lifted the back of his shirt.
The air shifted.
The marks weren't just scars. They pulsed—twisting, slithering beneath the skin as though alive. They glowed faintly, their light pulsing with a rhythm that didn't belong to this world.
Sophia reached out to touch them.
Then stopped.
Her hand hovered inches away, trembling slightly.
"If I touch it," she whispered, "it'll drain the soul right from my body."
She opened her bag and began to set out strange tools—blackened bone, cracked glass, etched metal that shimmered faintly as if resisting the light. Objects from places best left forgotten.
"Lie down," she said.
Angelo obeyed without question.
Sophia knelt over him and began drawing symbols on his chest—right above his heart. The ink she used shimmered with a pale, ghostly hue, and each symbol seemed to twist subtly as it was drawn, like it was aware… and displeased.
As the last sigil was completed, the symbols flashed.
Then vanished.
The house creaked. A draft passed through the room, though no windows were open.
James stepped forward. "Did it work?"
Sophia didn't answer immediately. She watched the boy.
Angelo slowly sat up, blinking like someone waking from a long, dark sleep.
"I feel… lighter," he said softly. "Like something's off my back."
"Try it," she said.
He focused.
Nothing.
Angelo's eyes widened.
"… It's gone," he whispered.
A collective breath filled the room—relief tinged with disbelief.
James moved quickly, pulling his wallet. "Please, take something. Anything."
Sophia shook her head. "I didn't come for payment."
"Then why?" Olivia asked, her voice barely steady.
Sophia's eyes returned to Angelo.
"I want to study the marks," she said. "They're not human. Not demonic either. I've never seen anything like them."
James and Olivia exchanged a look—hesitation, fear.
"No," Olivia said firmly.
But Angelo… stared down at his hands, then looked up. "I'll do it. If it helps others… or stops this."
Sophia nodded. "I'll need to come back. The seals won't hold forever. It will fight back."
She began packing up her tools in silence.
At the door, James spoke again. "Who sent you?"
She paused, glancing back over her shoulder.
"Father Aldric called me this morning," she said. "He didn't explain much, but I didn't need him to."
No one spoke.
Before leaving, Sophia lingered for just a moment longer.
"Keep him close," she said. "Don't leave him alone for too long. Whatever's inside… it's patient."
She opened the door and stepped out. The wind caught her coat as she vanished into the night.
The door shut behind her with a dull thud that echoed longer than it should have.
Upstairs, in Angelo's room, the mirror—once whole—cracked softly down the middle.
And in the boy's shadow, something watched.
And smiled.