Chapter 16

I sat there, the last page of Cora’s book glowing on my phone screen, my heart pounding in my chest. The silence of the cabin seemed to echo the turmoil within me. I had just finished reading her novel for the second time, and this read-through left me with a sense of awe and nakedness that I had never before experienced.

Cora had painted me—no, not me, the character she believed she had created—with such care and attention to detail that it was hard to distinguish where Haides, the Lord of Pain, ended and where I, Haides Anastos, began. Her words breathed life into a man who was both a stranger and intimately familiar. She had not merely fallen in love with a figment of her imagination; she had fallen in love with the essence of who I was, the parts of me that I had kept hidden beneath a veneer of violence and control.

It was a peculiar sensation, being adored not for my physical form or the fear I could instill in others, but for the complex web of my psyche, for the broken pieces of my soul that I had always believed were beyond repair. Cora’s affection for the character she knew as Haides was unconditional, unmarred by the depravity that clung to my reality.

The realization that she saw me, truly saw me, was both exhilarating and terrifying. It was as if she had reached into the depths of my being and laid bare all my secrets, all my fears, and all my desires. She had taken the time to understand me, to peel back the layers of my persona and find the man beneath the monster.

I found myself replaying scenes from the novel in my mind, each one a testament to her perception of me. The way she described Haides’ struggle with his past, his longing for connection, and his reluctant admiration for Sofia’s strength and kindness—it was as if she had been writing about my own hidden yearnings.

The warmth I felt from her words was a stark contrast to the coldness of my existence. For a moment, I allowed myself to imagine what it would be like to be loved by someone like Cora, to be seen as a man worthy of redemption and capable of feeling the depth of emotion that she had poured into her characters.

But the fantasy quickly shattered as the reality of my actions came crashing down upon me. The woman who had seen the best in me, who had envisioned a future where I could be more than the sum of my past, lay somewhere in the forest, her life extinguished by my own hands. The irony was not lost on me; I had destroyed the very person who believed I was capable of change.

I closed my eyes, the weight of my remorse pressing down on me like a physical force. Cora’s book, her vision of a man who could transcend his demons, was a mirror that reflected the parts of myself that I had long denied. It was a painful reminder of what could have been, had I not been so consumed by my own darkness.

As the first light of dawn crept into the cabin, I found myself torn from my thoughts to the sound of my phone alerting me to a text message.

The text message on my phone was a cold splash of reality, the walls I had carefully constructed around my dual life were crumbling. “A school counselor, huh?” the message read, the words mocking me from the screen. I didn’t recognize the number, but I could feel the familiar prickle of danger crawling up my spine.

Without wasting time on pointless questions, I tried to trace the origin of the text. My fingers flew over the keyboard, employing the same skills I used to track down the troubled souls that crossed my path. But as I dug deeper, I found that the number was a VOIP, cleverly encrypted to obscure any hint of the sender’s location.

This was no mere curious onlooker. Whoever was on the other end knew about my other life, the one that existed in the shadows, away from the guise of the upstanding citizen that I presented to the world. They had caught wind of Cora’s book, and that meant they were too close for comfort.

The unknown sender was playing a dangerous game, one that could potentially unravel every precaution I had taken to keep my two worlds separate. My mind raced with possibilities, each more unsettling than the last. Had one of my followers turned on me? Was this the work of law enforcement, baiting me into a trap? Or perhaps it was another predator, one who saw me as competition in this sick, twisted game we played?

Before I could even begin to formulate a plan, another text buzzed through, piercing the silence of the cabin. “lol u done?” it read, the flippant tone of the message that clashed with the gravity of the situation. I could feel my grip tightening around the phone, my composure slipping as the reality of my predicament set in.

I was in deep waters, and without knowing the identity of my taunter, I was at a significant disadvantage. This unknown threat held all the cards, and I could do nothing but wait for their next move. The realization that I might be outmatched sent a shiver down my spine.

For the first time in a long time, I felt true fear. Not the thrill of the hunt or the satisfaction of a well-executed plan, but the gut-wrenching terror of the unknown. The feeling was alien, and I fucking hated it.

I glanced around the cabin, my sanctuary, now tainted by the intrusion of this mysterious texter. The walls seemed to close in around me, and the silence that followed was deafening. I was trapped, caught in a web of my own making, and I had no idea how to extricate myself without falling victim to the very destruction I had embraced for so long.

The weight of my choices pressed down on me, heavy and unyielding. My heart pounded in my chest as I realized I had lost all control, my once steady hands now trembling with uncertainty, my breath shallow and ragged. I knew that the next move in this perilous chess game was mine to make, but I was paralyzed, uncertain of which path to take.

As the sun crept higher in the sky, casting long shadows across the cabin floor, I realized that the game I had been playing had taken an unexpected turn. I was no longer the hunter; I was the prey. And as much as I wanted to deny it, I knew that my life—or at least the life I had come to know—hung in the balance.

“What do you want?”