Capítulo 12: A Choice
Haisley
The night drags on, a thick silence falling over the room as we huddle close together, finally able to rest with full stomachs. I think night, but it could be day now. Exhaustion weighs heavily on all of us, our bodies and minds worn down by the constant fear, the twisted games, and the looming presence of our demons. Despite everything, my eyes grow heavy, and before I know it, I drift off into a restless sleep, clutching the blanket and mirror Zyraxiel gave me as if it's my last shred of comfort.
But the peace doesn't last long.
I wake with a start, my heart pounding in my chest, the blanket clinging to me like a shroud. The smell hits me first—thick, acrid smoke burning in my nostrils. I sit up, panic rising in my throat as I realize the room is no longer cold and dark. It's burning.
The others… they're gone. My heart lurches in my chest as I scramble to my feet, my head whipping around wildly. I'm not in the room we fell asleep in anymore. I'm alone, surrounded by walls of fire. The flames are everywhere, creeping closer, licking at the air, threatening to consume everything.
"Olivia?" I call out, my voice trembling, but there's no answer. "Megan? Anyone?"
The heat is unbearable, the fire roaring louder and louder, as if it's alive, hungering for me. I spin around, looking for a way out, but there's nothing—just fire in every direction. My breath catches in my throat, panic clawing at my chest. Where am I? How did this happen? I was just sleeping, safe with the others.
My eyes sting from the smoke, and I cough, struggling to breathe. There's no escape, no way out, and the flames keep closing in, inching toward me like predators toying with their prey. The heat is suffocating, sweat pouring down my face as I stumble backward, feeling the walls pressing in.
And then I hear it—a low, guttural growl that rumbles through the air, cutting through the roar of the flames. I freeze, my heart skipping a beat as I spin toward the sound.
A figure moves in the flames, dark and shadowy, towering over me. It steps closer, and the fire seems to part around it, like it commands the very flames. My throat tightens as I recognize the shape. Zyraxiel.
But something is wrong. He's different this time, more monstrous, his red eyes glowing even brighter, his form larger, more terrifying than before. His horns curl wickedly, and the lines of fire that crisscross his skin glow with a fierce, unnatural intensity.
He steps through the fire as if it's nothing, and my body trembles uncontrollably. Why is he here? What does he want now?
I try to back away, but the flames behind me press closer, hemming me in, leaving me nowhere to run. My back is against the wall—literally—and I have no escape.
"Where are the others?" I demand, though my voice is weak, barely audible over the roaring inferno. I can barely think, the heat is so intense, the fire so overwhelming. "What is this?"
Zyraxiel's lips curl into a twisted grin. "The others? They face their own trials. As you will face yours."
My blood runs cold. Trials? Is this another game? Another twisted test? I feel the fear creeping into my bones again, stronger this time, more urgent. What kind of trial is this? I want to scream, to beg for mercy, but I know better. Zyraxiel is not a creature of mercy.
The fire closes in, scorching the edges of my skin, and I flinch as the heat bites into me. I can barely breathe, the smoke thickening around me like a suffocating blanket. Zyraxiel steps even closer, his towering form filling my vision, and I feel my knees weaken, trembling under the weight of his gaze.
"What do you want from me?" I choke out, my voice breaking.
His red eyes burn into mine, unreadable, his face a mask of malevolent intent. "To survive, you must give something," he growls, his voice rumbling like the fire itself. "A piece of your soul, your pain, a part of your body."
My heart races. A piece of my soul? My pain, body? The words echo in my mind, twisting and dark. What does that even mean? How can I choose between those?
The flames are so close now, licking at my skin, and I cry out, feeling the burn searing into me. I'm trapped. I'm going to die.
"Choose, Haisley," Zyraxiel commands, his voice like thunder. "What will you offer? Your soul, your suffering, or part of your body?"
I stare up at him, my mind racing, the heat blistering my skin, my breath coming in ragged gasps. I don't know what to do, don't know how to survive this. But one thing is clear—I have no choice. I have to give him something, or the fire will consume me whole.
"I..." My voice cracks, barely a whisper, the flames licking at my skin, their heat unbearable, searing my flesh. My gaze flickers between the roaring fire and Zyraxiel, his towering form casting a shadow over me, and the weight of his command presses down like a vice around my throat.
The choice he's given me… it's impossible. How can I give away part of my soul? And yet, how can I endure more pain? But if I refuse, if I hesitate too long, the fire will consume me, and I know I don't want to die—not like this.
Zyraxiel points down to the floor, and for the first time, I notice it. A list. It wasn't there before, but now, it's carved into the ground, glowing faintly beneath the smoke and ash. My heart pounds as I read the options, each one worse than the last. Soul. Heart. Happiness. Moments. Eye. Finger… The choices blur before me, but with every passing second, another option is scratched out, fading away, leaving only the most horrifying sacrifices.
I can't do something simple. Not when it will put the others in pain. My thoughts race, and the flames press closer, the heat unbearable, scorching the air around me.
"Haisley," Zyraxiel growls, his voice deep and dark, urging me to choose. The flames are creeping nearer, closing in. I step toward him, my body trembling, knowing that no matter what I pick, this will haunt me forever.
"My soul," I whisper, barely audible, my heart pounding in my chest. It's all I have left, and yet, after everything, I wonder if it even belongs to me anymore. Maybe it's already the devil's, maybe it's been his since the moment I entered this hellish game. I'm pretty sure part of my soul went to the devil when my father murdered my mother.
Zyraxiel goes still, his towering presence somehow even more imposing in the silence that follows. The fire, once ravenous and ready to devour me, vanishes in an instant, snuffed out as though it never existed. The suffocating heat is replaced by an eerie cold that seeps into my bones. His red eyes, glowing like embers, lock onto mine, piercing through me.
He steps closer, and I can feel the weight of his gaze, the pressure of his will pressing against my very soul.
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