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 Forty-Five: The Hunger Takes Root
Year 12 – Seventy-Four Months After the First Sacrifice
The draining had changed her.
Not dramatically—not in a way that anyone else would notice. But Liora felt it. A new hunger. A new craving. A new need that had nothing to do with death and everything to do with life.
The man in the tavern had given her something she had not expected.
Not just power—though there had been power, warm and thick and delicious. Something else. Something she had no words for.
Intimacy.
Not love. She did not feel love. Could not feel love. But connection. The moment when two souls touched and one devoured the other. The moment when pleasure became pain became power.
She wanted more.
Not from the cellar. The cellar was for sacrifices. For death. For the dark that came from endings.
She wanted beginnings.
The old texts had mentioned this. Briefly. In passing. As if the authors were ashamed of what they were describing.
There are those who feed on death, one passage read. And there are those who feed on life. The latter are more dangerous. Not because they are stronger—they are not. But because they are harder to detect.
A death leaves a body.
A draining leaves... nothing.
An empty shell.
A man who breathes but does not live.
No one suspects a crime when the victim still walks.
Liora had read this passage many times.
She understood it now.
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The Lower Town – Two Nights Later
She walked the streets again, invisible as always.
The whispers guided her. Thirty-eight souls, bound to her, serving her, hungry for more.
There is a woman, they whispered. In the alley behind the baker's shop. She is alone. She is desperate. She sells her body for bread.
She is perfect.
Liora found her in the shadows, huddled against a wall, her clothes thin, her eyes empty.
"Excuse me."
The woman looked up.
"What do you want?"
"My name is Liora. I have a proposition for you."
The woman frowned.
"You're a child."
"I'm older than I look."
The woman laughed bitterly.
"Everyone says that."
Liora reached into her mind.
...hungry...
...cold...
...no one cares...
...maybe...
...maybe this one is different...
...maybe...
"I can give you bread," Liora said. "Warmth. Safety. All I ask is a small... exchange."
The woman hesitated.
"What kind of exchange?"
"The kind that will make you feel better than you've ever felt."
The woman looked at her for a long moment.
Then she nodded.
"All right."
Liora smiled.
Thank you, she thought.
You're so kind.
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The Room
Same room. Same shadows. Same dark.
The woman stood in the center, trembling.
"Take off your clothes," Liora said.
The woman hesitated.
"Do it."
The woman obeyed.
Her body was thin. Scarred. Used. But still beautiful in the way that desperate things were beautiful.
"Lie down."
The woman lay on the floor.
Liora knelt beside her.
She placed her hand on the woman's chest.
"Close your eyes."
The woman closed her eyes.
Liora reached into her mind.
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The Draining – Female
The woman's thoughts were different from the man's.
Softer. More complex. More desperate.
...my daughter...
...I haven't seen her in years...
...she doesn't know what I do...
...I hope she never knows...
...I miss her...
...I miss...
...please...
...please make me forget...
Liora found the place where pleasure lived.
She pulled.
The woman gasped.
Her body arched. Her hands clenched. Her mouth opened in a silent scream.
The shadows drank.
Not blood. Essence. The warm, golden light that made a person human.
Liora felt it flow into her.
Different from the man. Sweeter. More complex. Like honey instead of ale.
Delicious, she thought.
More.
She pulled again.
The woman cried out.
Her body convulsed. Her eyes rolled back. Her breath came in ragged gasps.
More.
She pulled again.
The woman went limp.
Empty.
Hollow.
Useless.
Liora stood up.
She looked down at the body.
Still breathing. Still alive. But gone.
The woman would never be the same.
She would never remember her daughter.
She would never feel hunger or cold or desperation again.
She would simply... exist.
A shell.
A ghost.
A warning.
Liora smiled.
Perfect, she thought.
Now I know.
Women taste different.
Better.
I want more.
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The Whispers – New Hunger
The thirty-eight souls whispered to her as she walked back to the castle.
You are changing, they said. The hunger is growing.
Soon, death will not be enough.
Soon, you will need more than souls.
You will need... life.
You will need... pleasure.
You will need... them.
Liora listened.
She did not argue.
They were right.
The draining had opened something inside her. A door she had not known existed. A hunger she had not known she possessed.
She wanted to drain again.
And again.
And again.
Not for power—though the power was real. For the feeling. The moment of connection. The moment when another soul touched hers and she consumed it.
That feeling was better than anything she had ever experienced.
Better than the first kill.
Better than the rituals.
Better than the dark itself.
I understand now, she thought.
Why the old texts warned about this.
Why the authors were ashamed.
Because this is not magic.
This is addiction.
She did not care.
She wanted more.
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Darian – The Awakening
Darian opened his eyes.
He did not know how long he had been gone. Days? Weeks? Months?
He sat up.
His body was weak. His mind was foggy. But something had changed.
He could feel her.
Not her presence—not physically. Something deeper. Something wrong.
She's doing something new, he thought.
Something worse than killing.
Something... intimate.
He did not know how he knew.
He just knew.
He stood up.
His legs shook.
He walked to the door.
He opened it.
The corridor was empty.
He walked to the library.
Finn was there, sitting in the dark, staring at the fire.
"Darian."
"Finn."
"You're awake."
"Yes."
"She's doing something new."
Finn nodded.
"I know."
"What?"
"I don't know. But I can feel it. The castle feels... different. Heavier. Darker."
Darian sat beside him.
"We have to stop her."
"How?"
"I don't know. But we have to try."
They sat in silence.
Two broken boys.
One monster.
And a new kind of horror.
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The Lower Town – The Next Night
Liora walked the streets again.
The whispers guided her.
There is a man, they said. In the house on the corner. He is young. He is strong. He is alone.
He is perfect.
She found him in his bed, sleeping.
She climbed through the window.
She stood over him, watching.
...dreaming...
...of her...
...the one who got away...
...if only...
...if only...
She reached into his mind.
She found the dream.
She changed it.
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The Dream
He was standing in a field of flowers.
She was there. The one who got away. The one he had loved and lost.
She was smiling at him.
"Hello, love," she said.
"Hello," he said.
"Come here."
He walked toward her.
She reached out and touched his face.
"I've missed you," she said.
"I've missed you too."
"Stay with me."
"Always."
She kissed him.
He melted into her.
The dream shifted.
They were in a room now. A bedroom. Soft light. Soft sheets.
She was undressing him.
"Please," he whispered.
"Please what?"
"Please don't leave me again."
"I won't," she said. "I'm here. I'm always here."
She laid him on the bed.
She climbed on top of him.
He closed his eyes.
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The Draining
Liora stood over the sleeping man, her hand on his chest.
She was in his mind.
In his dream.
In his pleasure.
She pulled.
He gasped in his sleep.
His body arched. His hands clenched. His mouth opened.
The shadows drank.
Not just his essence. His dream. His desire. His hope.
She consumed everything.
The love. The loss. The longing.
All of it.
Delicious, she thought.
More.
She pulled again.
He cried out in his sleep.
His body convulsed.
More.
She pulled again.
He went limp.
Empty.
Hollow.
Useless.
She withdrew from his mind.
She looked down at him.
Still breathing. Still alive. But gone.
He would never dream again.
Never love again.
Never hope again.
She climbed out the window.
She walked back to the castle.
The shadows followed.
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The Morning
The man woke at dawn.
He did not remember his dream.
He did not remember her.
He lay in his bed, staring at the ceiling, feeling... nothing.
No joy. No sadness. No hope.
Just... emptiness.
He got up.
He dressed.
He went to work.
He lived.
But he did not live.
He was a ghost.
Another ghost.
Another victim.
And no one would ever know.
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Liora – The Chamber
She sat in her chamber, reading by candlelight.
Thirty-eight sacrifices.
Three drainings.
And a hunger that would not stop.
The more I take, she thought, the more I want.
The more I want, the more I take.
It never ends.
It will never end.
She closed the book.
She looked at her reflection.
The girl in the mirror was almost gone.
Something else was looking back.
Something ancient.
Something hungry.
Soon, she thought.
Soon, I will be ready.
Soon, I will take everything.
From everyone.
Forever.
She 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-eight 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 Forty-Five