SILVER RIDGE— MAYA
The invisible force tightened its hold, an unseen pressure that brooked no resistance. Maya watched—helpless, horrified—as the ritual threads sank deeper into the girl, dragging something vital from her small body with a slow, inexorable pull that seemed to echo in the marrow of Maya's own bones.
"No… please…" the child gasped, the words fragile against the chamber's oppressive weight.
Maya tried to turn away, but the chamber would not let her. "Witness," the voice had commanded, and so she had, every detail etching itself into her with the precision of a blade.
The girl's knees buckled. A raw, animal cry ripped from her throat as crimson veins spidered beneath her skin, glowing with the stolen essence. "Maya!"
The name fractured into pure panic.
"Please—stop—!"
