I guess time has finally come. I never thought that it would.
Just one more step...
Maybe then...""I can finally live free.
These were the thoughts running through Mary Everton's mind as she waved goodbye to Matthew, before walking away toward her apartment.
The room she entered was barren empty of warmth, with little to no furniture or personal belongings. She dropped her bag on the kitchen counter as she headed toward her bedroom. The dim glow of a few candles cast flickering shadows across the walls. On a small table near the door rested a large dagger and a weathered leather-bound notebook. Its surface looked ancient, as though it had survived hundreds, maybe even thousands of years. Strange characters etched across its cover gave off an aura of mystery.
Mary pulled out a small vial she had kept for this special occasion. Inside swirled a thick, viscous fluid that shimmered faintly with a purple light under the candle's glow.
Other than those few items, the apartment was as empty as she felt inside. A wide, open space dominated the room. Yet on the wall hung the only thing of sentimental value Mary owned: a single framed photograph. She stared at it for a long moment before her mind drifted into the past.
It's been about ten years now, hasn't it?
Yeah... I was nineteen back then.
The memory pulled her back to a late autumn evening. Mary and her mother, Samantha, had just received devastating news from the police.
Her world had come crashing down. Samantha sat frozen, unable to believe the words spoken by the officer sitting across from her. Mary felt as though life itself had turned into a nightmare—too cruel, too surreal. Her father was dead, killed in a brutal act of gang violence.
"My condolences, Mrs. Cashmere," the officer said softly. "I know it's hard to lose someone you love. But we're also concerned for you and your family's safety now. With violence like this, you never know what could happen. Please, keep a low profile for a while and let us handle the situation. And if you notice anything suspicious, report it to us immediately."
He scribbled his details on a slip of paper and handed it to Samantha before standing. She followed him to the door, the heavy silence pressing down on them. At the door, Samantha forced a faint smile.
"Yes, Officer, I understand. Thank you for everything... I just think it's going to take some time to get used to."
Life blurred in the days that followed. Relatives and friends poured into their home, offering condolences, support, and comfort. To Mary, their words felt hollow. How could they possibly understand? They hadn't lost her father.
The funeral passed in a haze of tears and condolences. Dozens of people came to honor her father's memory, but to Mary, it all felt like a cruel ritual. Her mother, meanwhile, tried to put on a strong front desperate to settle things quickly, to move forward somehow.
Months slipped by. Mary resumed her bridging studies, preparing to attend university. Samantha urged her to live with her grandmother rather than stay in student housing, but Mary ignored her advice.
Three years later, Mary was a second-year student in university. By then, she had become known as a loner, with only a handful of friends. It wasn't that she despised people just that she no longer felt connected to them. Worse still, tragedy continued to follow her. Her grandmother passed away of old age. Not long after, her mother disappeared without a trace, this was more then what she was able to handle.
The weight of it all crushed Mary. Her once-bright eyes turned dull. Dark bags hung beneath them, her skin pale and sickly, her hair unkempt. She looked out from her dorm window with the dead gaze of someone who had lost everything.
She decided to leave.
Leave the pain.
Leave the past.
Leave this hopeless world.
leave it all behind, to find something, anything, anything at all
She packed the only things that still mattered to her and walked out, never looking back.
Years passed. Mary drifted from place to place, never staying long. She learned the harshness of survival, and little by little, she shed the broken girl she once was. The despair faded from her face, replaced by something sharper, steadier. She gained back her strength, her body healthy again. She wore modest, practical clothes and carried only a backpack. Inside were two treasures: the old leather-bound book and the framed photo of her family from before everything fell apart.
"I can't believe I actually found this book. Who would have thought they'd sell it off as junk?" she murmured one night. "If I didn't know better, I'd think so too. But all these years of research and traveling... they weren't in vain."
The book had become her obsession. Legends claimed it held the power to change lives forever, speaking of worlds beyond worlds and powers beyond imagination. Whether true or not, Mary didn't care. Hope… whether real or delusion—was better than merely existing.
And now, the day had finally come.
"Almost everything is ready," she whispered, flipping through her notes. "All that's left is the final ingredient... a person void of earthly connections."
Her brow furrowed. "Where am I supposed to find someone like that? This might be the hardest part."
Her desk was cluttered with pages of notes, covered in sigils, diagrams, instructions, and even forged documents. For weeks, she had been preparing in silence.
The cheap apartment she rented downtown kept her hidden from prying eyes. It wasn't comfortable, but it was convenient. People there were too busy trying to survive to notice her.
Finally, her search led her to a run-down building. The residents were hollow, lost souls with little to live for. Still, none felt quite right until she saw him.
A man she hadn't seen before. Curious, she asked the landlord. He told her the stranger had been there the longest, living alone since his late teens. He kept to himself, never interacting with anyone. Completely isolated.
Mary's heart quickened. She knew instantly he was the one.
Days later, she approached him on his way home. His name was Matthew. Their conversation was short but enough. Everything was set.
That night, Mary prepared her final steps. She poured the contents of a vial into the food she was cooking. The mixture was designed to incapacitate, filling the victim's body with the fluid required for the ritual. She had already prepared a separate dose for herself to protect against its effects.
Hours passed. Every preparation was now in place.
The time had come.