Page 104 of Eternal
I’m learning things now, things I didn’t know, this is deeper than I thought, bigger than what I imagined she was fighting for. And now... my curiosity is stronger than ever.
She sees the shift in his eyes, the twist, and she sighs.
Then, in a single, fluid motion, she drives the knife into his knee, Donovan screams.
I watch as she twists the blade slowly, savoring it, she always does this when they refuse to answer.
Her voice is still quiet, calm. “Talk.”
His jaw clenches, sweat beading at his temple, his hands grip the armrests, knuckles white. I know this game, she’ll carve him up piece by piece until she gets what she wants.
And yet, I’m not sure what exactly she wants.
What is she chasing? What happened that night? Who died? Why is Donovan involved?
I should stop this, I should intervene, end it before it goes too far.
But I don’t, I stay where I am, and I watch.
He chokes on a scream, his chest heaving, sweat dripping down his face. “P-please?—”
“Please what?” she lets out a soft chuckle, pulling back enough to let him breathe before dragging the blade up, slicing into muscle. “Please stop? Please let me go?” Her breath brushes against his ear. “Or please kill me quickly?”
His head falls forward, his body trembling. I watch from above, my grip tightening around my phone. She’s playing with him, and I don’t know whether to stop her or let her push further.
“You knew my mother,” she says, her voice sharp now. “That’s a fact. And you also knew she was smart enough to find your buried secrets.”
His breath hitches.
Bingo.
Her mother died, one night, she died, and in that moment, she died with her.
Grief transformed her into this monster, grief broke her. I understand now, it broke me too. But where she chose vengeance, I chose loneliness.
What makes us so different, if we both walked different paths?
No matter the route, we ended up in blood. Why do I have to end her grief?
I catch her smile, cold and savage, as she drags the bloodied knife up his chest, letting the steel hover above his throat. “She wrote about you,” she continues, her voice eerily calm, almost casual. “Not much. But enough.”
The journal… Her mother’s?
“What did she find?” she presses, her voice soft, almost sweet. “Where is that young girl, Donovan?”
No reply.
Voron sighs, a breath of frustration, then, without hesitation, she buries the knife into his other leg. He screams, I watch as his body trembles, his fists clenching, but still… he remains silent.
That’s when I realized, he knows. He knows exactly why she’s here, but he’s too terrified to say it.
Voron steps back, casually wiping the blood off her knife on his shirt, her gaze settling on him with a mix of boredom and amusement.
“She found some secrets, didn’t she? Secrets she never should’ve known. Secrets someone like you didn’t want her to have.”
His eyes squeeze shut, a faint shake of his head. “I—I don’t?—”
“Continue,” she urges, her foot pressing against his thigh, right over the wound, forcing him to gasp. “Don’t remember? Don’t you want to remember?” She leans in close, her smile widening, as her blade grazes his cheek. “My mother was lookingfor something. Something dangerous. And you…” Her voice drops low. “You were part of it.”
