Chapter 2; A Promise

Brielle POV.

My body went rigid, my eyes wide with a terror so profound I couldn't even scream. My legs felt fused to the ground, useless anchors in a sea of panic. My breath hitched, caught somewhere between my lungs and my throat, as my mind raced: Who is this person? Why is he here? My heart hammered against my ribs, a frantic drumbeat threatening to drown out all thought.

Hesitantly, I lifted my head, my eyes darting nervously, scanning the shadows for any hint of danger. The figure before me was tall, cloaked in darkness, yet exuded an unnerving calm. His face was mostly hidden, but I could sense the quiet resolve in his gaze.

I recoiled instinctively, wrapping my arms tightly around my trembling body. My parents' words echoed in my mind, a desperate mantra: 'Never trust anyone you don’t know. Not even if they say they’re here to help.' My entire frame tensed, my mind screaming at me to stay alert, to run if I had to.

He seemed to sense my fear. He took a slow step forward, his hands raised in a gesture that was meant to be reassuring, but only amplified my unease. His voice, when he spoke, was steady, gentle yet firm. "Hey. I’m not here to hurt you. My name is Elion Zaphiel. I was a friend of your father’s."

My eyes flickered with suspicion, my body still locked in fear. The warning rang in my ears—never trust too easily. Questions swirled in my mind, a chaotic storm, but my lips remained sealed.

Elion saw my hesitation and added quickly, "Your father and I… we were close. I'm here because I promised I'd look out for you. I've come to keep you safe."

For a long moment, I just stared, trembling, caught between the primal urge to flee and a desperate, fragile hope that maybe, just maybe, he was telling the truth.

He noticed the flicker of suspicion in my eyes, the way I tensed, clutching myself as if I could melt into the shadows. Without a word, he reached into his pocket and slowly pulled out his wallet. He opened it carefully, revealing a worn photograph.

In the picture, a tall man with kind eyes and a warm smile stood beside a younger version of Elion, their arms around a woman and a little girl. Elion’s voice was soft, almost trembling, as he said, "This is your father… and your mother. I knew them well. I promised I’m not here to hurt you."

My breath hitched. A memory, faint but undeniable, flickered through my mind. Hope, a tiny, dangerous spark, ignited in my eyes.

I tried to stand, but my knees betrayed me, buckling beneath my weight. My legs shook uncontrollably, and I would have fallen if not for Elion’s steadying hands. He caught me gently, holding me close.

"T-Tell me," I whispered, trembling with a mixture of fear and desperate hope. "Tell me about my parents. Are they… are they safe?"

Elion’s face darkened, his jaw clenching. He shook his head slowly, regret heavy in his eyes. "I’m late," he said quietly, thick with sorrow. "Too late."

My world imploded. My knees buckled again, and I sank to the ground, clutching my chest as if the pain could physically rip me apart. "No… no, you’re lying," my voice cracked, trembling with disbelief and a grief so profound it felt like a physical blow. "You’re lying. They can’t be dead. They… they promised me they’d come back. They promised I’d see them again."

Elion knelt beside me, his face etched with a pain that mirrored my own. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I wish I could have saved them. I wish I could have done more..."

My body went rigid, my breath catching in my throat as the crushing weight of the truth finally settled. I already knew—deep down, I’d known all along. My parents were gone. I’d seen the blood, felt the terrifying emptiness, heard the silence in my heart. But hearing it spoken aloud, hearing Elion say it so softly, made it infinitely worse.

My knees buckled, but I didn’t fall this time. Instead, I clenched my fists, my nails digging into my palms as a tidal wave of despair and rage threatened to consume me. I looked up at Elion, my eyes blazing with a fury I didn't know I possessed.

"You're late," I spat, trembling with anger. "It's your fault! If you'd come sooner—if you'd just gotten here—"

Without thinking, I drew back my fist and punched him as hard as I could in the chest. My small hand struck with a force that made me gasp, tears blurring my vision. My knuckles hit him with a sharp, painful impact, and a surge of raw anger and helpless despair washed over me.

"I hate you," I whispered with a volatile mix of rage and grief. "My father told me you were coming to help us! But you're late!"

Finally, utterly exhausted and trembling, I sank to my knees, tears streaming down my face. My chest heaved with ragged breaths, and my shoulders shook with uncontrollable sobs. I pushed myself up, staggering forward and shoving Elion gently but firmly.

"I can save them," I utter fiercely, raw with desperation. "I can bring them back. I just need… I just need to see them again."

Elion watched silently as my trembling fists loosened, my rage dissolving into a heartbreaking despair. He hesitated for a moment, then gently but firmly took my shoulders. "Go," he said softly, heavy with regret. "You need to see them. Say goodbye."

Without another word, I turned and ran. My legs carried me, a desperate instinct guiding me toward the wreckage where my parents’ bodies lay—still, silent, gone. My breath hitched as I reached them, collapsing to my knees amidst the twisted metal and shattered glass. I threw my arms around my mother’s cold form, clutching her tightly, as if sheer force of will could bring her back. Tears streamed down my face, sobs wracking my body in a way that felt like it would tear me apart.

Then, in a surge of desperate, primal instinct, I bit into my own wrist. Pain, sharp and searing, flooded my senses. Blood welled up, dark and thick, dripping down my arm. I didn't know what I was doing, only that I had to do something. Without conscious thought, I pressed my bleeding wrist to my father’s lips, whispering, “Wake up… please, wake up…”

Elion’s heart must have lurched watching me. I didn’t understand what I was doing, didn't know if it would work, but I couldn’t stop. My desperation was raw, a primal scream tearing through me. His eyes must have widened as I suddenly grabbed a jagged piece of metal nearby and slashed deeper into my wrist, the blood spilling faster, a dark offering.

“Stop!” Elion’s shout was a raw burst of panic. He rushed forward, his voice strained. “Brielle, no—stop!”