"The Silver Cross: My Angel, My Monster" Chapter 3
Chapter 3: Tit for Tat
It was a man, and he seemed to have frozen solid. I scrambled to my feet and rushed out the door, leaning over to inspect him under the spill of the porch light.
...Apparently, every "romantic encounter" in the world had decided to show up today.
His eyes were tightly shut, his long lashes casting dark shadows against his skin. Though his face was as pale as a ghost's, there was an icy, noble quality to his features, his thin lips pressed into a firm line.
I reached out to check his breathing, but my legs gave way, and I flopped onto my backside.
He... he wasn't breathing at all.
Trembling, I pulled out my phone to call the police, only to find the battery had died. Just as I was wallowing in frustration, he suddenly twitched.
Still alive?
I scrambled back to my feet and used every ounce of strength I possessed to drag him into the house.
I dashed into the bedroom, grabbed a blanket, and wrapped it tightly around him.
I touched his face; it was still terrifyingly cold. I turned toward the landline, preparing to dial emergency services.
As I half-dragged, half-carried him toward the sofa—"Ow!" A sharp sting shot through my left hand. I let out a low cry and lifted my finger to find a splinter from the table had sliced a bloody gash into my forefinger. Just as I lowered my head to suck the wound, I suddenly felt someone staring at me coldly. I looked up instinctively, and the man had somehow awakened.
"You're awake?" I said, a wave of relief washing over me. I reached out to feel his forehead, but it was still ice-cold.
My hand froze. I hadn't noticed until now, but his hair was a striking, moonlight silver. And within his narrow, elongated eyes was a haunting, supernatural shade of blood-red...
"Who... who are you?"
The silver-haired man ignored my question entirely. His eerie, crimson pupils were fixed intently on my bleeding finger.
I instinctively tried to pull back, but a silver blur flashed before my eyes. A sharp sting pierced my neck. The bastard had actually bitten me—his fangs sinking deep into the side of my throat. A wave of primal terror instantly flooded my entire body. My eyes widened in horror as I felt the very strength of my being draining away along with my blood.
"Let go of me!" I screamed. You damn jerk, how dare you bite me!
As my consciousness began to haze, I suddenly remembered the impossibly beautiful man I’d met this morning. He had performed that divination for me, saying: Today, you must not save anyone...
Feeling my body grow cold, I clung to the last shred of my fading sanity. Like a cornered predator, I lunged at the ungrateful wretch who had repaid my kindness with malice. I threw my arms around his neck and, following his lead, I sank my teeth into him with a ferocious crunch.
ADVERTISEMENT
You dare bite me? You must be tired of living!
His lithe body stiffened. His icy eyes went dull with shock as he stared at me, utterly incredulous. Clearly, he couldn't believe I would actually bite him back. Hmph. My motto is: return every kindness, and avenge every slight. Even if I'm dying, I'm taking you down with me!
I am a survivor—the kind that gets tougher the harder you hit me! This was absolute "an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth." Since you bit me, it’s only fair I bite you back as compensation!
"Let go!" He regained his composure and glared at me.
"No way! You just bit me... what if I get rabies? Who's going to pay for that?"
Black lines... Silence.
"Don't worry. Dead people don't get rabies," the man said coldly.
"Dead people?" I blinked, finally letting go of his neck.
Before I could get an answer, a violent agony swept over me like a tidal wave.
Burning... it was a searing heat as if my body were being consumed by flames. It felt as though something inside me was trying to tear its way out. The sheer intensity of the pain made me wish for death. My vision was stained a saturated crimson, like the maddened bloom of blood-red lotuses in the depths of hell...
After what felt like an eternity, the world went quiet.
The taste of a metallic, salty liquid lingered in my mouth. The silver-haired, supernatural man was long gone, but the scent of his blood hung heavy and wouldn't fade...
"You bastard! You actually dared to run away!"
"Get back here!"
"Hey... at least leave a business card!" I chased him out of the house, stomping my feet in fury.
Against the ink-black curtain of the sky, the Morning Star sparkled in the distance. I hadn't realized that the night had already passed.
Suddenly, a blinding silver light flashed before my eyes. The shimmer was coming from my right hand. I froze, looking down. At some point, a silver ring had appeared on my right forefinger.
Did that guy leave it?
What was this? Collateral for my medical bills?
At least he had a shred of conscience.
I tried to pull it off to get a better look, but the silver band seemed to have fused with my skin; no matter how hard I tugged, it wouldn't budge. I decided to leave it be. On closer inspection, it was actually quite beautiful.
Standing at my doorstep, I looked up at the glittering Morning Star. It looked like a pair of profoundly gentle eyes. As I watched it, I began to smile like a fool.
Gareth, why haven't you come home yet?
Despite not sleeping all night, I felt strangely energized, without even a hint of drowsiness.
The window was open, the breeze making the curtains dance. I sat on the edge of the bed, peering through a gap in the fabric. The eastern sky was beginning to show the first pale streaks of dawn. As the curtains parted further, the horizon was a deep, bruised red—as red as blood. For some reason, when that comparison crossed my mind, I subconsciously licked my lips.
Suddenly, a sliver of golden sunlight broke through the vibrant morning clouds, slanting through the clean glass of the window and into the room.
The moment my wrist was exposed to that golden light, it charred black. I let out a cry of pain and instinctively yanked the curtains shut, stumbling back until I hit the floor. I stared blankly at my burned wrist, stunned. As I watched, something even more miraculous happened: the charred flesh began to knit itself back together, healing until not even a scar remained.
Can someone please tell me what on earth is happening!
ADVERTISEMENT
You May Also Like
-
CompletedChapter 11
The Call From Ten Years Later
The night before her final A-Level exam, eighteen-year-old Evelyn Hart receives an impossible video call—from herself, ten years in the future. The woman on the screen has Evelyn's face, but she is sitting in a wheelchair. She delivers one terrifying warning: do not use the pens Julian gave you. In the future Evelyn already lived, her boyfriend and her best friend used disappearing ink to erase her exam answers, destroy her Oxford dream and trap her in a life built around their betrayal. This time, Evelyn refuses to follow the same path. She tests the pens, preserves the evidence and walks into the examination hall pretending she still trusts them. But saving her results is only the beginning. When Julian and Chloe realise their plan has failed, they turn apologies into manipulation, tears into public sympathy and a malicious accusation into one final attempt to take her future away. To survive, Evelyn must stop protecting the people who tried to erase her—and learn that love which requires her to become smaller was never love at all.Glow-Up|Second Chance11.1k words5 0 -
CompletedChapter 11
When Our Last Song Fell Silent
Lena Hart spent fourteen years fighting her way from Nashville dive bars to the Grammy stage. Then one diagnosis threatened to take away the only thing the world had ever valued her for—her voice. On the day she learns she has laryngeal cancer, Lena discovers her secretly married husband, record-label founder Adrian Cole, shopping with Sophie Lane, a twenty-one-year-old singer styled to look exactly like Lena did at the beginning of her career. But Sophie is more than a young artist Adrian wants to promote. She is Lena’s replacement. Adrian uses their hidden marriage to secure Sophie industry connections, accesses Lena’s private songwriting archive, and gives the young singer “Möbius”—the deeply personal anniversary song Lena wrote for him. Adrian believes one song will cost his wife nothing. He is about to discover how much power Lena still holds. While preparing for the fight of her life, Lena quietly secures her original recordings, hires an attorney, and begins uncovering what her husband and his company have taken from her. Then, on the night she reaches the highest point of her career, Lena leaves her seat empty, releases one final song, and disappears. Adrian once built an empire from her voice. Now Lena must decide what remains when the music stops—and whether the woman behind the songs can finally belong to herself.Virtual Reality|Glow-Up|Second Chance13.2k words5 26 -
CompletedChapter 11
When I Walked Away, Love Found Me
At fifty-eight, Evelyn Hart learns that the life she sacrificed everything to protect was built on a lie. The six abandoned children she raised were never orphans. They were the biological children of her husband, Daniel, and her younger sister, Clara. Even worse, Daniel was never legally married to Evelyn at all. After spending thirty years as an unpaid mother to their secret family, Evelyn dies with nothing left—not her education, her dreams, or even the people she believed were hers. Then she wakes up at eighteen. It is the morning Daniel plans to make her surrender her college scholarship to Clara—the decision that destroyed her first life. This time, Evelyn locks the door. She keeps her scholarship, escapes their small Kentucky town, and begins rebuilding her future in Atlanta. There, she meets Nathan Cole, a young entrepreneur who sees her talent without trying to control it. But Daniel and Clara remember their former lives too. And neither of them intends to let Evelyn escape the future they believe still belongs to them.Glow-Up|Second Chance13.7k words5 26 -
CompletedChapter 11
The White Roses He Planted for Me
For fifteen years, Evelyn Vale believed Roman Blackwood was the one person who would never let anyone hurt her. After her parents died, Roman raised her, protected her, and filled the garden beneath her bedroom window with white roses—a promise that she would always have a home with him. Then his first love came back. When Celeste Marlowe frames Evelyn for attacking her, Roman refuses to check the security footage. Instead, he sends Evelyn to Halcyon Ridge, an offshore behavioral center where wealthy families send their troublesome heirs. But Halcyon is no rehabilitation center. Evelyn’s identity is erased. Her passport disappears. Armed guards punish every attempt to escape, while anonymous clients pay to watch the prisoners suffer. Twice, Evelyn sees Roman inside the compound. Twice, she tries to reach him. And twice, he walks away without recognizing the girl he once swore to protect. By the time Roman finally discovers the truth, Evelyn is no longer waiting to be rescued. She has hidden the evidence, memorized every name, and begun planning how to destroy the empire that profited from her disappearance. Roman may surrender his fortune, his freedom, and everything he has left. But some betrayals cannot be forgiven.Human Nature|Age Gap|Glow-Up|Second Chance13.7k words5 31 -
CompletedChapter 11
She Showed Her True Colors… She Had No Idea I Was Faking My Paralysis
Ethan Whitmore had money, power, and a fiancée who swore she would love him no matter what. So he decided to test that promise. After staging a devastating accident, Ethan returned to his Greenwich estate in a wheelchair, pretending he might never walk again.Human Nature|Dark Secrets|Plot Twist16.0k words5 40 -
CompletedChapter 11
Locked in a Madhouse, Married to a Ghost: The Ultimate Masterclass in Faking a Murder
A stormy midnight in Boston. Billionaire financial tycoon Aston Cross is found dead in his private study, riddled with five fatal bullets. The killer? His newlywed wife, Chloe Miller—an elite art forger and underground mastermind. With absolute evidence against her, Chloe goes completely silent, landing herself in a maximum-security federal psychiatric ward. To the police, her psychiatrist, and the entire city, she is nothing more than a broken, abused wife pushed past her breaking point by a tyrant. For months, she sits in absolute isolation, speaking not a single word, while secretly coordinating a high-stakes digital heist that bleeds the city’s most powerful crime syndicates dry. Until the eve of her trial, when the heavy steel door of her ward is kicked open. Standing in the threshold, sharply tailored, ice-eyed, and entirely unscathed, is the man who was supposed to be cold in the ground. The murder was never a crime. It was a masterpiece of shared deception, engineered to fake his death, crush his rivals, and inherit an empire. But as the true stakes of their plot unspool, Chloe realizes her husband didn't just stage an assassination—he trapped her in a labyrinth where only one of them holds the trigger. "You can forge a murder, Chloe," he whispers, pinning her against the cold glass with a lethal, possessive smile as the sirens wail outside. "But you can't fake the adrenaline of wanting to kill me for real." — A high-stakes dark romance about two sociopathic masterminds who play the world like a chessboard, only to discover their deadliest match is each other.Mutual Pining|Dark Secrets|Plot Twist|Possessive Love13.7k words5 31 -
CompletedChapter 11
A Hundred Messages Too Late
Maya Bennett makes a living preserving the final words of people who are running out of time. Then a terminally ill woman hires her to record one hundred messages—one for every morning after her death. The recipient is Adrian Vale, Maya’s husband. Claire Whitmore is not merely Adrian’s former girlfriend. She is the first love he never forgot, the woman whose name he once whispered in Maya’s bed. And Claire knows exactly who Maya is. As Adrian abandons his marriage to remain at Claire’s bedside, Maya discovers that the woman claiming to have no hope may still have another choice. But the deeper betrayal is Adrian’s: every time Maya needs him, he sends money, an assistant, or an excuse. For Claire, he always comes himself. When Maya’s mother is rushed into emergency care, Adrian is forced to choose between his wife and his dying first love. This time, Maya refuses to wait for his decision. She leaves behind her wedding ring, divorce papers, and one final recording titled “The Autopsy of Our Marriage.” By the time Adrian presses Play, Maya is already gone.Glow-Up|Second Chance12.0k words5 43