Capítulo 18: Taking Her Kindness
Zyraxiel
I learned quickly that Haisley's kindness, her relentless need to protect and save others, was born from that dark memory she clung to. Her guilt over failing to save her mother had shaped her entire existence, a burden that weighed her down in every choice she made. She would never survive the final round if she still carried that with her.
Taking it from her wasn't just necessary—it was a gift. The moment I stripped that memory from her, I watched the change unfold. She let go of the need to save others, no longer feeling compelled to act as their shield. She no longer sought redemption through them, no longer tried to make up for a past that haunted her. The hollow desperation to save them, to make amends for her mother's death, faded. And with it, her weakness.
It's fascinating, though—despite her darkness, despite the belief she held that she was ruined, broken beyond repair, she still believed that others had light in them. Haisley couldn't see the truth. The people here—their darkness, their secrets—they weren't born from survival like hers. No, their sins were choices. Made out of greed. Out of selfishness.
Haisley's darkness? It's pure, clean. It's the darkness of survival. Of doing whatever it takes to live, to make it through another day. That's why she called me. Why she looked for me in the mirror. It's why I went to her, why I've been drawn to her. I watched her, standing there, staring into that mirror, and I was afraid. Afraid she wouldn't say the chant, wouldn't give herself over to me. But not because she didn't want to—no, she was ready. The only thing that stopped her was the others. Those same people who warned her, who told her not to say the chant. The ones who, when it was their turn, let her scream about the water rising as they stood silent, watching her drown. They knew she would've saved them, and they used that to their advantage.
And when their silence fell after, as she screamed and begged for help, the truth was clear—they had drowned in their own selfishness long before the water ever reached them.
If no one had spoken up to stop her, she would have said the chant instantly. She would've given herself to me without hesitation. It was only their words that held her back. They manipulated her trust, her belief that they were worth saving.
That memory, the one of her mother's murder, had made her weak. But now, with it gone, she's finally free. She has no idea how much stronger she's become because of it. I hold the mirror to her memory now. I can watch her through it, and I love what I see. She moved away from the other women without a second thought, isolating herself, severing ties with those who betrayed her. It means she's learning, adapting. It means she has a chance.
A chance to survive the final part of this.
And in the end, that's what I need. I hope she continues down this path, because the only way she will survive is if she learns to sacrifice them for herself. She must embrace the darkness fully, without remorse. She must give up on saving others and understand that her survival is all that matters.
The rules for us are simple, etched in the shadows we control, binding us but also giving us power over these humans. We can assist our chosen ones in any way they ask—gifts, food, even the occasional mercy. But we are bound by the law of the game. We cannot directly interfere with the actions of the other women, nor can we claim our human until the final game is complete. Still, within those boundaries, we demons wield immense power, and I intend to use every advantage I have to ensure Haisley survives.
That's why I gave the other women food and water when Haisley asked. It wasn't for their sake—it was for hers. It's all part of the strategy. These women don't know it, but they're being softened up, lulled into a false sense of security. They think they're still in control, that they can rely on the kindness of others. But in the end, it's all an illusion. The game doesn't favor the weak or the selfless. Only the ruthless survive.
Most chosen ones don't last longer than a month or two. Their fear, their hesitation, their desperate to escape us, kills them. They crumble under the weight of the trials, their minds shattered, their bodies broken. But Haisley... she's different. The moment I laid eyes on her, I knew she was stronger, darker, and more resilient than the others. She has the potential to outlast them all. If I claim her, I know she will survive.
The final game is where everything comes together, where the true nature of the rules reveals itself. The last remaining women are placed in a twisted arena, a shadowy labyrinth of traps, mirrors, and illusions designed to test their limits. The objective? Find your demon before anyone else does.
But here's the twist—the women are not just fighting to reach us. They are required to sabotage each other, to hinder the other's attempts to win. It's no longer about just surviving the challenges, but actively ensuring the others fail. The rules are clear—only one can claim their demon and emerge victorious. And sabotage isn't just encouraged—it's necessary. If you don't try to destroy the competition, you'll be seen as weak, and the demon won't claim you.
In this final game, alliances crumble, and trust shatters. Each woman must betray the others, using lies, deceit, and any means necessary to ensure her own success. The labyrinth warps their perceptions, forcing them to confront their darkest fears and most hidden secrets. But the biggest challenge? They are all forced to face their own demons—both figuratively and literally.
As the women struggle through the maze, each step could be their last. The traps are deadly, and the illusions can drive them to madness. Only the strongest, the most ruthless, will make it to the center where we wait. And there, in the heart of the labyrinth, only one woman will stand victorious, having eliminated her competition, her soul irrevocably bound to the demon who claims her.
For Haisley, this game will be her final test. I've seen the darkness in her, the ability to sacrifice others for her own survival. But she's not quite there yet. She still clings to some sliver of hope, some belief that she can outwit the game without fully giving in to its demands. But when the time comes, when she faces the other women in that labyrinth, she'll have to make a choice.
To survive, she must destroy the others. To win, she must embrace the darkness that's been inside her all along.
And when she finally does, she will be mine.
I see the other women wake, and decide it's now time to see if she's given up on saving others, I hope she has.
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