The First Whisper

The fire had burned bright that night.

Thomas stood in the wreckage of his old life, watching the house collapse in on itself, watching the flames swallow everything.

His wife. His daughter.

Gone.

The neighbors had tried to drag him away, but he hadn’t moved.

Even when the fire department arrived.

Even when the screaming finally stopped.

Because in the roar of the flames, in the crackle of burning wood—

He had heard a voice.

“You don’t have to feel this.”

A whisper. Soft. Familiar.

It curled around him, gentle as a mother’s lullaby.

“I can take it away.”

And for just a moment—

Just a moment—

He had wanted to say yes.

The Lies of a Prophet

Thomas woke gasping.

The church was silent around him, the candle flames flickering against cold stone.

His hands shook.

That memory—he had buried it.

Had told himself the whispers came after the fire.

That Mara had found him later.

But now—

Now, he wasn’t so sure.

Had she been there from the beginning?

Had she whispered into the flames, into his grief, when he was too broken to fight back?

Had she already been inside him the day he first stepped into the ruined church?

And the miracles—

His miracles.

Thomas pushed himself upright, his breath coming in ragged gasps.

The people he had healed—

Were they ever healed at all?

The Blackened Veins

He stepped out of his chamber, moving through the halls of the church, watching.

His followers knelt in prayer, their voices a low, rhythmic murmur.

At first, they seemed normal.

Then he saw it.

The veins.

Thick. Black. Pulsing.

They coiled beneath the skin like roots, creeping up arms, twisting around throats, spreading like rot.

Some had stopped blinking.

Some weren’t even breathing.

Thomas’s stomach turned.

This wasn’t miraculous.

This wasn’t salvation.

This was a plague.

And he had brought it to them.

The Truth of the Faithful

A hand grabbed his wrist.

Thomas turned sharply—Elias stood there, his fingers cold and tight.

His eyes were wrong. Too wide. Too dark.

“Is something wrong, Prophet?” Elias whispered.

Thomas’s mouth felt dry.

“These people,” he managed. “They—”

“They are becoming what they were meant to be,” Elias interrupted.

His grip tightened.

“You have shown them the way.”

Thomas tried to pull back, but Elias didn’t let go.

“They are ready for the final step.”

Thomas’s pulse pounded.

“What final step?”

Elias smiled.

“Ascension.”

Clara’s Fear

Beneath the church, deep in the chamber of flesh—

Clara opened her eyes.

Pain. Blinding. Unrelenting.

Her arms, her legs—they didn’t feel like her own.

Her skin was slick with blood. Her head throbbed with something not human.

The walls around her moved.

The veins beneath her pulsed, tightening.

She tried to lift her hand—

But the darkness held her fast.

She wasn’t dead.

But she wasn’t alone.

Something whispered in the shadows.

Something watched.

And for the first time in her life, Clara understood true fear.