Shadow's Embrace

Chapter 12: Shadows of Departure

Ren had been sleeping better lately, her once restless nights now giving way to longer, more peaceful slumbers. The darkness that had plagued her dreams seemed to have loosened its grip, allowing her to find some semblance of peace. But tonight, as the clock neared midnight, Azrael was visited by a presence from beyond—a Spirit, just a white mist hovering in the corner of the room.

The Spirit's voice was like a whisper carried on the wind, barely audible but clear in its message. "Azrael," it intoned, "there is a soul tonight that you will want to collect yourself. Not one for another, but one that will be yours."

Azrael's brow furrowed as he listened, his curiosity piqued. The Spirit detailed the time and place where the soul would need to be collected, an unusual event that stirred something deep within him. Without a second thought, Azrael knew he had to go. Shadows began to swirl around him, forming a dark passage that would take him to the appointed location.

He glanced at Ren, still peacefully asleep, her breathing steady and calm. Azrael hesitated for a moment, feeling a pang of regret at leaving her side, even if just for a short time. He convinced himself she would be alright—she had been strong, growing stronger each day. He stepped into the shadows, vanishing from the room.

But what Azrael didn't anticipate was that Ren would wake up just minutes after his departure. Her eyes fluttered open, and she reached out instinctively, expecting to find him beside her. When her hand met the cold, empty sheets instead, her heart skipped a beat. She sat up, glancing around the room.

"Azrael?" she called softly, her voice filled with sleep. When there was no response, a sense of unease began to creep in.

She got out of bed, her bare feet padding across the floor as she made her way through the house. The silence was oppressive, thick like a fog that clouded her mind. Ren checked every room, her anxiety mounting with each passing moment. "Azrael?" she called again, her voice a little louder this time.

But there was still no answer.

Ren's heart pounded in her chest, the echoes of abandonment from her past clawing their way to the surface. She had been left behind before, ghosted without explanation, and those memories came rushing back, threatening to overwhelm her. The house that once felt like a sanctuary now seemed vast and empty, each shadow a reminder of her fears.

"Azrael!" Her voice broke as it rose into a scream, tears streaming down her face. She ran from room to room, her desperation growing with each cry. "Please, Azrael, where are you?"

But the only response was the hollow silence of the empty house.

Ren collapsed in the middle of the living room, her body wracked with sobs. The weight of her past, the fear of being alone, pressed down on her like a crushing wave. She felt like she was drowning in it, each breath a struggle as she choked on her tears.

The panic began to overwhelm her, Ren's breathing grew erratic. She started gripping her arms, her nails digging into her skin—a familiar, self-destructive habit she had developed during past anxiety attacks. The pain was a desperate attempt to ground herself, to stave off the flood of memories and fear. Her arms began to bleed from the intensity of her grip.

But before she could spiral further, a familiar sensation washed over her—a cool breeze, a faint whisper of shadows. She looked up, her eyes red and swollen, and saw the darkness in the room shift, coalescing into a form.

Azrael stepped out of the shadows, his expression unreadable as he looked at Ren, crumpled on the floor. The sight of her pain struck him like a physical blow, and he rushed to her side, gathering her into his arms.