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 Sixty-Six: The Final Innocent
Year 13 – One Hundred Twenty-Six Months After the First Sacrifice
One more.
One more until the curse.
One more until forever.
Liora sat in her chamber, staring at the ceiling, thinking about the next child.
The whispers had told her about a girl in the lower town. Young. Innocent. Pure. Her soul was worth ten.
Ten, she thought.
Ten in one.
One more becomes none.
If I take her—
The curse comes now.
Not later.
Now.
She had been waiting for this moment for years. The curse. The hunger. The endless craving that would bind her to the dark forever.
Now it was almost here.
One more kill.
One more soul.
One more step into eternity.
She thought about the girl. Her name was Elara—another echo, another coincidence. She was five years old. She lived with her father in a small house near the river. She had never hurt anyone. She had never wished anyone ill. She was good.
And her soul was worth ten.
Ten, she thought.
Ten in one.
The curse comes now.
Not later.
Now.
She stood up.
She walked to the door.
She stepped into the corridor.
The shadows followed.
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The Lower Town – Night
Liora walked through the streets, invisible as always.
The whispers guided her. Fifty-six souls, bound to her, serving her, hungry for the fifty-seventh.
She is close, they said. Her house is ahead. She is inside. She is sleeping.
She is perfect.
She found the house.
It was small, made of wood and stone, surrounded by the smell of the river and the sound of quiet breathing.
She climbed through the window.
The girl was lying in her bed, sleeping, her chest rising and falling softly.
...dreaming...
...of the river...
...of the fish...
...of her father's laugh...
...of nothing important...
...of everything...
She stood over her, watching.
She is so small, she thought.
So fragile.
So innocent.
Her soul is worth ten.
Ten in one.
The curse comes now.
Not later.
Now.
She reached out.
She touched the girl's face.
"Daddy?" she whispered.
"Shh," Liora said. "Close your eyes."
She closed her eyes.
Liora reached into her mind.
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The Draining – The Final Child
The girl did not resist.
She did not know how. She was five years old. She had never learned to protect her mind, to guard her thoughts, to fight against intrusion.
She simply opened.
Liora saw her memories.
...her father's face...
...his smile...
...his voice...
...singing...
...always singing...
...the river...
...the fish...
...the flowers...
...the love ...
...so much love...
...more than she could hold...
...more than she could ever...
She pulled.
The memories flowed into her.
The love.
The joy.
The innocence.
Delicious, she thought.
More.
She pulled again.
The girl gasped.
Her body arched.
Her hands clenched.
More.
She pulled again.
The girl went limp.
She withdrew from her mind.
She looked down at her.
Still breathing. Still alive. But empty.
The child was no more.
Just a shell.
The final victim.
The fifty-seventh.
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The Fifty-Seventh Ritual
She performed the ritual in the girl's bedroom, surrounded by the smell of the river and the sound of silence.
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 exploded.
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The Power – Fifty-Seven
The fire in her veins became a supernova.
Fifty-seven sacrifices. Fifty-seven souls. Fifty-seven streams of darkness flowing into her, merging with her blood, becoming her.
But this soul was different.
Stronger.
Worth ten.
She could feel it. The child's essence was purer, brighter, more potent than anything she had ever consumed.
Ten, she thought.
Ten in one.
None more.
The curse comes now.
Not later.
Now.
She released the spell.
The shadows retreated.
She looked at the body.
A child. Innocent. Pure. Dead.
No one is safe from me, she thought.
No one.
And now—
Now the curse.
Now forever.
She smiled in the darkness.
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The Curse – The Beginning
The curse came not as a whisper, but as a scream.
Liora felt it in her blood, her bones, her soul. The dark that had been growing inside her for years suddenly blossomed, filling every corner of her being, consuming everything that had once been human.
She fell to her knees.
Her body convulsed.
Her eyes rolled back.
The shadows poured into her, through her, around her.
And then—
Then she heard it.
A voice.
Old. Ancient. Hungry.
You have done well, the voice said. Fifty-seven souls. Fifty-seven sacrifices. You have fed the dark, and the dark has fed you.
Now comes the curse.
Now comes the hunger.
Now comes the craving.
No matter how many you take to your bed, none will satisfy you. You will crave endlessly—in palaces, in battlefields, in ruins. You will never be full. You will never be done.
And every lover you take will become your next sacrifice.
This is your gift.
This is your punishment.
This is your forever.
Liora opened her eyes.
They were black.
Pure, endless, consuming black.
But something was different.
Something had changed.
She could feel it. The hunger. The craving. The endless, aching need that would never fade.
This is what I am now, she thought.
This is what I will always be.
The curse is mine.
The hunger is mine.
The world is mine.
She stood up.
She looked at the body of the girl.
Thank you, she thought.
Your soul was the last.
Your innocence was the key.
You will not be forgotten.
You will be the first of many.
The first of forever.
She smiled.
The darkness smiled with her.
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The Disposal
She burned the girl's body in the house's fireplace.
The fire was hot. The smoke was thick. She worked quickly, efficiently, scattering the ashes before dawn.
No one saw her.
No one ever saw her.
She walked back to the castle 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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Finn – The List
Finn added the final name to the list in his head.
Elara. Child. Fifty-seven.
He recited the list every night before bed.
Fifty-seven names.
Fifty-seven faces.
Fifty-seven souls.
Fifty-seven, he thought.
She's killed fifty-seven people.
Including two children.
The curse has come.
She is no longer human.
She is something else.
Something more.
Something the world has never seen.
He lay in his corner, staring at the darkness.
He did not sleep.
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The Father – The Morning
The girl's father woke at dawn.
He went to her room to wake her for breakfast.
She was not there.
He searched the house.
He searched the river.
He searched the lower town.
He found nothing.
He never found anything.
He would spend the rest of his life searching.
He would never know what had happened to his daughter.
He would never know that her soul had been consumed.
He would never know that she had died for the curse.
Another victim.
Another life destroyed.
And Liora?
Liora watched.
And smiled.
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Liora – The Evening
She sat in her chamber, reading by candlelight.
Fifty-seven sacrifices.
The curse had come.
The hunger was endless.
She closed the book.
She looked at her reflection.
The girl in the mirror was gone.
Something else was looking back.
Something ancient.
Something hungry.
The curse is mine, she thought.
The hunger is mine.
The world is mine.
And no one—
No one—
Will ever stop me.
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, fifty-seven 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 Sixty-Six
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END OF BOOK ONE: THE UNBLOODED LAMB