The vision

MADILYN'S POV

I could get caught, and everything could go wrong, but the worst that could happen was seeing a death shadow behind Lyander Tharlos.

***

I gasped and tried to look away, but it was too late. I had already been caught in webs too strong to escape.

His back was still turned to me. The dark eyes of the death shadow caught mine, and I felt my soul being ripped out of my body. I let out a loud scream, and then everything went dark.

Just me and the death shadow. That familiar darkness, that strong, dark, and cold aura. His was darker and more dangerous, like it knew I could see it.

It was so close that I could feel the hair on my skin stand. The deep hum and dark fog made my stomach twist in terror.

Then I saw it, the door to the subconscious.

I forced myself to stay rooted to the spot. Maybe if I didn't try to look into it, the vision would pass, and I could pretend like this had never happened.

But my legs had a mind of their own, and I could not gain control of my thoughts when my power took full control.

I stepped closer, muttering something my mind couldn't even make sense of.

Slowly, I approached the door and pulled it open.A bright light flashed into my eyes, almost blinding me… And there I was on his death day.

July 7th, 2029. Four days from now.

I walked into what looked like an office.

His office.

It was empty. My eyes roamed around the room, but there was nothing until he walked in.

Lyander walked in, and he wasn't alone. A young man was with him. He took his seat in his chair as they spoke.

I could not make sense of what they were saying, but midway through the conversation, a masked man attacked him from behind, put him in a headlock, and placed a towel over his face, choking him as he struggled.

The young man watched him, a bright smile lighting up his face as Lyander tried to free himself from the attacker's grip.

Lyander tried hard, but the young man stabbed him in the chest.

He stopped struggling, barely even breathing as he collapsed into his chair.

The attacker let go of him. His mask still on, he pulled the knife from Lyander's chest and wiped it clean.

There was an argument between the masked man and the young man who had stabbed Lyander.

I could not make out what they were saying, so I curiously walked closer to them, trying to pick up something… Anything.

Then, like a whisper, I heard him speak.

“It was supposed to be clean, no blood! He instructed us to make it look like a suicide!” the masked man said. He was angry, maybe panicking.

I could barely understand what was going on.

Who was he?

Who wanted Lyander dead?

“Burn it down, then. No evidence.”

Before I could fully grasp what was going on, the masked man lit up the office with a lighter, and they both escaped through the window.

Lyander sat there, weak, stabbed, and bleeding, unable to move… He sat there helpless as the fire grew wider.

I knew better than to touch anything, but I tried to reach for him… Maybe help him.

But the closer I stepped, the farther I was pulled back until I was dragged out…

My eyes snapped open, and they immediately met the same pale green eyes.

His tall frame towered over me as he held my shoulders.

I stood there, unable to move, my body shivering from the impact of the vision I had just seen. My head ached as his death date rang loudly in my ears.

His brows raised, and his face twisted into a frown.

He was confused.

His eyes, which had once looked at me without any emotion at all, had changed. They were now filled with curiosity and a little hint of worry.

I stared at him, desperately pleading that my mouth would remain shut.

I was definitely going to get caught the moment i opened my mouth to speak.

Marilyn wasn't a psychopath who saw people's deaths.

Madilyn was.

And fucking hell, things were going to get way worse if Lyander found out I was a fake.

“Are you okay?”

His voice was calm. Not curious, not pissed or irritated like Dad or Mom whenever something like this happened, but just genuinely concerned.

I kept quiet, even when the voice in my head screamed at me to tell him what I had seen.

“Marilyn, can you hear me?” he called, shaking me a little.

And that was it I couldn't control it anymore 

“July 7th, 2029,” I muttered, lost and defeated by my powers.

His frown deepened. He pulled me a little closer to him and leaned in.

“What are you talking about?”

“Your death date. July 7th, 2029. Suffocated, stabbed, and burned… Lyander Tharlos, that's how you would die.”

My voice sounded different, a bit haunting and terrifying even to my own ears.

I couldn't stop the prophecy. I wasn't sure how to control it. And no matter how I fought, I never won against my powers.

Once a death is seen, it is told. That was the rule, and fuck, I hated it.

Lyander looked at me, his eyes darkening in a dangerous way.

He pulled me closer to him, our faces inches apart, so close that I could feel his hot breath on my face.

“I'm dying in four days? How the fuck do you know that?”