To Become The Monster
“Those standing at the edge of something irreversible. Grief sharp enough to cut. Rage heavy enough to drown in. Love strong enough to rot the bones.”
My breath caught. I did not look away.
“That is how we know who can survive the change,” she said. “And who will burn from it.”
She lifted one pale finger and touched just beneath her eye.
“Our eyes,” she said, “keep the color we had in life. Blue remains blue. Brown remains brown. Green remains green.”
Her gaze sharpened.
“But blood remembers.”
The candles trembled as if responding to her words.
“When we feed,” she said, “or when emotion overwhelms restraint, the red rises.”