THE MONSTER INSIDE ME (#ONC2024)

CHAPTER ELEVEN: A HOPE

I'm stunned.

An uncle?

For a moment, I wonder if my grandmother has finally lost her mind.

"I don't have any uncles," I say. "What are you talking about, Grandma?"

She smiles gently, as if she expected this reaction.

"It's natural that this sounds impossible to you. He lives on Ablington Island. He's your father's brother. In truth, he knew nothing about Fenton—nor about you—until recently. When he learned about your situation, he wanted to help. He's a good man."

A good man.

The words feel foreign. Almost dangerous.

Is this real? Can someone from my bloodline be... decent? I don't know. But I do know this: I can't stay in a place where my truth is treated like a symptom. I have nothing left to lose.

From here, the only person I will miss is Selby.

"I accept," I say finally. "But I want to say goodbye to my friend first."

"That's perfectly fine," my grandmother replies. "I'll ask a nurse to bring her."

I don't describe the farewell. Some moments deserve silence.

Today, I leave.

I get into a car with my grandmother and a man whose job is to make sure I don't run. I have no intention of escaping. Escape to where? There is nowhere left.

After a short flight, Ablington Island appears beneath us—green, wild, surrounded by restless water. It reminds me of Ireland. Alive. Breathing.

The air smells different here. Salt and earth instead of antiseptic.

The complex rises in the distance, enormous and imposing. At its center, a wide terrace. Around it, an asylum, a hospital, a prestigious college, and the headquarters of something called the Order. I don't yet know what that means.

An elderly blonde woman greets us.

"Welcome, Arabella. I'm Georgiana. I'll be your therapist."

Her voice is calm. Too calm.

She walks me through corridors lined with paintings and statues. The place feels old, powerful, deliberate. When she opens the door to my room, sunlight floods in through a large window overlooking gardens.

It's beautiful.

I don't care.

"I want to see my uncle," I say.

A voice answers from behind me.

"I'm here, Arabella."

I turn.

Ryan Dagon.

The world tilts.

Blue eyes. The same eyes that watched me from the darkness. The same eyes that spoke when no one else would. Something inside me breaks open.

"You're the one," I whisper. "You're the man who saved me."

I rush forward and wrap my arms around him. He freezes for half a second, then embraces me gently. Warm. Solid. Real.

Tears spill without permission.

Behind us, my grandmother and Georgiana exchange glances and quietly leave, closing the door.

I step back and study him. The worry in his face. The kindness. The recognition—something unspoken but present.

"I'll help you," he says softly.

"You already did," I reply. "You spoke to me when I was alone."

Confusion clouds his expression.

"Arabella... I've never spoken to you before."

I shake my head. "Yes, you did."

He sighs, troubled. "I wish I could say that's true."

"When I was about to drink that man's blood," I insist. "You told me not to."

He goes very still.

After a long pause, he speaks.

"I had a recurring dream years ago. I even told Georgiana about it. I was in an esoteric shop. A young woman stood over a wounded man. She wanted to drink his blood. I told her not to."

My breath catches.

"I never saw her face clearly," he continues. "But... it could have been you."

The air between us tightens.

"You reached me," I say. "In dreams, or something else. You did."

His eyes widen.

"It was you," he murmurs. "You were the woman in my dream."

I grab him again, desperate now.

"Please," I whisper. "Help me."

His arms close around me, firm and protective.

In that moment, I understand something terrifying and beautiful: whatever binds us is older than fear, deeper than blood, and stronger than the darkness chasing me.

And for the first time in my life, I believe I might not be alone.