Blood Ties

The Storm Within

The storm outside raged, wind howling like a feral animal as rain lashed against the windows. Inside, the fire sputtered, casting an amber glow that seemed to highlight the unease crackling between Gabriel and Eve. They sat across from each other at the old table, silence stretching as thunder rumbled above.

Eve's fingers traced the edge of a journal that had been lying forgotten on the table. She flipped it open, eyes scanning the familiar handwriting. It was her grandmother's, each word penned with precision but frayed at the edges, as if her thoughts had trembled even as she wrote. "The pact we made will come back to haunt us. Blood demands payment, and secrets have their way of surfacing."

Gabriel's gaze followed hers, and he shifted uncomfortably. "What is it?" he asked, his voice low and gravelly.

"Pieces of a story no one wanted us to know," Eve replied, the firelight catching the flicker of anger in her eyes. "Our families' dirty secrets."

His eyes darkened, memories surfacing unbidden: hushed conversations, sudden silences when he entered the room, his older brother's disappearance like a wound that never healed. "I'm tired of secrets," he said, the words more vulnerable than he intended.

Eve's lips twisted into a bitter smile. "Funny. That's all you ever gave me—secrets and bruises."

He stiffened, guilt tightening like a noose around his throat. "I was a kid. Angry, stupid." The weight of years lay between them, filled with words they never said and truths they never admitted. "But I'm not him."

"No," Eve agreed, meeting his gaze with a challenge. "But you're still here, tangled in this mess."

A sharp knock at the door interrupted them, and they both froze. The storm shrieked outside, but this sound was deliberate, rhythmic. Gabriel reached for the hunting knife strapped to his belt, catching the subtle nod Eve gave him before they moved as one toward the door.

The knock came again, louder this time. Gabriel's fingers tightened around the knife's hilt as he threw open the door. The wind roared past, slamming the door against the wall as rain drenched them both.

But the porch was empty. No footprints in the mud, no sign of anyone. Just the whispering forest beyond, shrouded in mist and shadows.

Eve's breath came out in a shudder, and Gabriel felt the thrum of adrenaline spike higher. They exchanged a glance, the shared unease binding them in that moment more than any words could.

"Someone's playing games," she said, but her voice faltered, betraying the fear she was trying to suppress.

"Then we'd better play back," Gabriel replied, stepping into the storm and feeling, for the first time, that their shared history might be the only weapon they had against the darkness closing in.