WHAT LIVES BENEATH THE VEIL
Book One: The Unblooded Lamb
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CONTENT WARNING: This series contains explicit sexual violence, human sacrifice, psychological torture, murder of innocent characters (including children and family members), ritualistic killing, and extreme horror. No character is safe. Read at your own risk.
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Chapter Thirty-Six: The Whispers of the Dead
Year 9 – Thirty-Three Months After the First Sacrifice
The whispers had changed.
Before the thirtieth sacrifice, they had been fragments. Echoes. Words without meaning. Now they were voices. Clear and distinct, speaking to her from the darkness.
Liora, they whispered. Liora, listen.
We have secrets to tell you.
Secrets of power.
Secrets of the dark.
Liora listened.
She sat in her chamber at night, surrounded by shadows, and let the voices of the dead fill her mind. They told her about the old texts—meanings she had missed, rituals she had not yet discovered. They told her about the castle—secrets hidden in its walls, treasures buried beneath its floors.
And they told her about power.
More than blood, they whispered.
More than death.
There are other ways to bind souls.
Other ways to grow strong.
We will teach you.
When you are ready.
Liora smiled in the darkness.
I am ready now, she thought.
Not yet, the whispers replied.
Soon.
But not yet.
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Liora – The Thirty-First Victim
She chose a man this time.
A fisherman from the river below the castle. His name was Orin—another coincidence, another echo of her first victim. He was middle-aged, skilled, and invisible. He lived alone in a small hut by the water, fishing for the castle kitchens.
No one would miss him.
Not immediately. The kitchens would notice the missing fish, but they would assume he had moved on. By the time anyone thought to look for him, his body would be ash.
He was perfect.
But this time, Liora did something different.
She brought the whispers with her.
They guided her steps through the dark streets of the lower town. They warned her of obstacles—a loose stone here, a sleeping guard there. They led her to the fisherman's hut on the riverbank.
He is inside, they whispered.
He is sleeping.
He is alone.
Take him.
Liora pushed open the door.
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Orin – The Hut
The fisherman woke to the sound of footsteps.
He sat up in his bed. A child was standing in the doorway. Small. Pale. Dressed in white.
"Who—"
She moved.
Faster than he could follow. Faster than he could react.
Her hand closed around his throat.
"Don't scream," she whispered.
He tried to scream.
She squeezed.
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The Thirty-First Ritual
She performed the ritual in the hut, surrounded by the smell of fish and river water.
The whispers watched.
They had been waiting for this. Hungry for this. The dark demanded blood, and the dark would have it.
She spoke the words.
She made the cuts.
She collected the blood.
And when it was over—
The darkness purred.
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The Power – Thirty-One
The fire in her veins burned brighter.
Thirty-one sacrifices. Thirty-one souls. Thirty-one streams of darkness flowing into her, merging with her blood, becoming part of her.
She raised her hand.
The shadows answered.
They came faster now. More eagerly. They wrapped around her arms, her throat, her face. She could feel them inside her, in her lungs, in her stomach, in her mind.
More, they whispered. We need more.
Soon, she thought.
Soon.
She released the spell.
The shadows retreated.
She looked at the body.
A fisherman. Skilled. Invisible. Dead.
No one is safe from me, she thought.
No one.
She smiled in the darkness.
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The Disposal
She burned Orin's body in the hut's fireplace.
The fire was hot. The smoke was thick. She worked quickly, efficiently, scattering the ashes in the river before dawn.
No one saw her.
No one ever saw her.
She returned to her chamber as the sun rose, smelling of smoke and blood and darkness.
She washed her face.
She braided her hair.
She chose a white dress.
She practiced her smile.
Eyes wide. Innocence.
Mouth soft. Gentleness.
Head tilted. Curiosity.
Perfect, she thought.
She went down to breakfast.
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Darian – The Journal
Darian added another entry to his journal.
Thirty-first victim. Orin. Fisherman. Disappeared last night.
Body not found.
Cause of death unknown.
Suspect: Princess Liora.
She is accelerating.
We need help.
But who will believe us?
He hid the journal beneath the loose stone.
He went down to breakfast.
His sister was already there, smiling, eating porridge.
"Good morning, Darian," she said.
"Good morning, Liora," he said.
Their eyes met.
For a moment—just a moment—he heard something.
A whisper in his mind.
I know what you're writing.
I know where you hide it.
I know everything.
Darian's blood went cold.
Liora?
The whisper was gone.
But the fear remained.
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Finn – The List
Finn added another name to the list in his head.
Orin. Fisherman. Thirty-one.
He recited the list every night before bed, a dark litany that kept the nightmares at bay.
Thirty-one names.
Thirty-one faces.
Thirty-one souls.
Thirty-one, he thought.
She's not stopping.
She's never going to stop.
He lay in his corner, staring at the darkness.
He did not sleep.
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The Whispers – The Promise
That night, the whispers returned.
Liora, they said. Listen.
We have told you of other ways.
Other paths to power.
When you are older, we will teach you.
But you must be patient.
The dark rewards patience.
Liora frowned.
"Why must I wait?"
Because your body is not ready, the whispers replied. The rituals we speak of require... maturity.
Strength.
Endurance.
You are not there yet.
But you will be.
Soon.
Liora nodded slowly.
"I will wait," she said.
Good, the whispers said.
Good.
You learn quickly.
You will be a worthy vessel.
The dark is pleased.
Liora smiled.
The darkness smiled with her.
And somewhere in the depths of the castle, in a cellar that no one visited and no one remembered, thirty-one souls whispered her name.
Liora.
Liora.
Liora.
She heard them.
She always heard them.
They were hers now.
Forever.
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End of Chapter Thirty-Six