WHAT LIVES BENEATH THE VEIL
Book Two: The Eternal Hunger
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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-Nine: The Pattern
Year 13 – One Month After the Curse
The castle had settled into a new rhythm.
Not peace—there was no peace here, not anymore. But routine. The servants went about their duties with their eyes down and their mouths shut. The guards stood at their posts with their hands on their weapons. The nobles sent their gifts and their letters and their desperate pleas for favor.
And Liora?
Liora fed.
Every few days, she slipped out of the castle and walked the streets of the lower town. The whispers guided her to the powerful, the strong, the ones whose souls would quiet the hunger for a little while.
A mage here. A warrior there. A noble passing through.
She had killed twelve more since the curse took hold.
Twelve more names for Finn's list.
Twelve more souls for the dark.
Seventy-one in total.
And still, the hunger returned.
It always returned.
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The Pattern – The Hunt
Liora had developed a system.
First, the whispers found a target. Someone powerful. Someone alone. Someone whose disappearance would not be noticed for days, weeks, sometimes months.
Second, she approached them. A soft word. A gentle smile. A promise of pleasure or power or something they could not resist.
Third, she fed.
The curse demanded intimacy, and she gave it what it wanted. The shadows were her hands, her mouth, her body. She touched them where she could not. She caressed them. She took them.
Fourth, she drained.
Their essence. Their memories. Their souls.
Fifth, she sacrificed.
The ritual. The words. The blood.
Sixth, she disposed.
Fire. Ashes. Gone.
No evidence. No witnesses. No suspects.
The perfect crime.
The perfect hunger.
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The Lower Town – Night
Liora walked through the streets, invisible as always.
The whispers guided her.
There is a woman, they said. In the house on the hill. She is a warrior. A mercenary. Her soul is worth three.
She is alone.
She is vulnerable.
She found the house.
It was large, made of stone, surrounded by the smell of pine and the sound of silence.
She knocked on the door.
"Who is it?" a voice called.
"Someone who wants to make you an offer."
The door opened.
A woman stood in the doorway. Young. Strong. Her arms were scarred, her eyes were hard.
"You're the princess," she said.
"Yes."
"I've heard about you."
"Good things, I hope."
She laughed.
"No. Not good things."
Liora smiled.
"May I come in?"
She hesitated.
Then she stepped aside.
"Come in."
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The Warrior's House
Liora stepped inside.
The house was warm, lit by a fire, smelling of old leather and older blood.
"Sit," the warrior said.
Liora sat.
"You're not here to make an offer," the warrior said.
"No?"
"No. You're here to kill me."
Liora tilted her head.
"What makes you say that?"
"I can feel it. The darkness in you. It's stronger than anything I've ever felt."
"You should be afraid."
"I've killed a hundred men. I'm not afraid of a child."
"I'm not a child."
"No. You're not."
The warrior reached for her sword.
Liora moved.
Faster than the warrior could follow. Faster than she could react.
Her hand closed around the warrior's wrist.
"Please—"
"Shh."
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The Feeding
The curse demanded intimacy.
Liora had learned to use the shadows as extensions of herself. They touched the warrior where she could not. They caressed her. They took her.
The warrior gasped.
Her body arched.
"Please," she whispered.
"Please what?"
"Please..."
Liora reached into the place where pleasure lived.
She pulled.
The warrior screamed.
Not in pain. In ecstasy.
Her body convulsed. Her hands clenched. Her eyes rolled back.
The shadows drank.
Not just her essence. Her strength. Her skill. Her soul.
She consumed everything.
And when it was over—
The hunger quieted.
Longer this time.
The warrior's soul was worth three.
Three times the satisfaction.
Three times the power.
She looked down at the body.
Still breathing. Still alive. But empty.
Another victim.
Another name for Finn's list.
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The Seventieth Sacrifice
She performed the ritual in the warrior's house, surrounded by fire and the memories of a hundred battles.
The whispers watched.
She spoke the words.
She made the cuts.
She collected the blood.
And when it was over—
The darkness roared.
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The Power – Seventy
The fire in her veins burned brighter.
Seventy sacrifices. Seventy souls. Seventy streams of darkness flowing into her, merging with her blood, becoming part of her.
Seventy, she thought.
Thirty more until one hundred.
Thirty more until godhood.
The curse is mine.
The hunger is mine.
The world will be mine.
She released the spell.
The shadows retreated.
She looked at the body.
A warrior. Strong. Dead.
No one is safe from me, she thought.
No one.
She smiled in the darkness.
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The Disposal
She burned the warrior'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 another name to the list in his head.
The warrior. Lower town. Seventy.
He recited the list every night before bed.
Seventy names.
Seventy faces.
Seventy souls.
Seventy, he thought.
She's killed seventy people.
The curse has come.
She is feeding on the powerful.
She is growing stronger.
No one is safe.
No one.
He lay in his corner, staring at the darkness.
He did not sleep.
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Liora – The Evening
She sat in her chamber, reading by candlelight.
Seventy sacrifices.
Thirty more until one hundred.
Thirty more until godhood.
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.
Thirty more, she thought.
Thirty more souls.
Thirty more feedings.
And then—
Then godhood.
Then no one will ever stop me.
Then the world will be mine.
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, seventy 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-Nine