Death's Echo

Chapter 7: The Edge of Fear

Agatha's heart pounded in her chest as she watched the damned souls slowly making their way toward the house. The black smoke moved with purpose, relentless and vengeful, and her pulse quickened with every inch it crept closer.

They were coming for Rio.

No, Agatha thought fiercely, I won't let them take her.

A protectiveness she hadn't felt in centuries surged through her veins, flooding her with a sense of purpose so intense it nearly knocked the breath out of her. It had been so long—too long—since she'd felt that fire, that instinct to protect, to shield. Agatha had always been at her most dangerous when the world dared to mess with the people she cared about. Thankfully for the world, that number had only ever been two, and then, after everything fell apart—none.

For centuries, she had lived with a heart hardened by loss, with nothing to protect but herself, no one to care for. The world only had to worry about not fucking with her, and she'd made it very clear over the years that she was more than capable of protecting herself.

But now...

Now, that empty space inside her, the one that had remained hollow after Nicky, after Rio, was slowly being filled again. Not fully, not like before, but enough. Rio's presence, fragile and fractured as it was, had begun to seep back into her heart, and even if it was just a sliver of what they once had, it was enough.

Agatha could feel it—just a drop in the ocean of love that had once been theirs. But she had lived in a desert for centuries, and even the smallest drop of that love was enough to stir something primal within her.

The ticking clock loomed in the background, reminding her that time was running out, but Agatha felt her resolve harden. She wouldn't let them take Rio. She had already lost her once.

Not again.

Agatha's thoughts burned with fierce resolve, but when she glanced over at Rio, her heart lurched. Rio's gaze was fixed on the approaching shadows, her eyes wide and distant, like she was caught in a trance, staring at the only thing in the world that could truly kill her. The air in the room felt heavier, as if the weight of that realization pressed down on both of them.

Agatha's breath caught in her throat. For all the strength Rio had shown, for all the power she wielded, there was a vulnerability in her now—raw, exposed—that Agatha hadn't seen in centuries. She looked at Rio, the woman she had once loved so fiercely, and felt that protectiveness grow even stronger, blazing hotter in her chest.

"Rio," Agatha said, her voice low but urgent. When Rio didn't respond, her eyes still lost in the sight of the looming darkness outside, Agatha felt a surge of frustration and fear. She stepped closer, grabbing Rio's arm firmly, and then turning her to face her. Without hesitation, she cupped Rio's face in her hands, forcing her to look at her.

"Look at me," Agatha stressed, her voice trembling with intensity. She held her breath, waiting for those dark eyes to focus, to snap out of the trance that the oncoming storm of souls had pulled Rio into.

"We need to complete the trial," she urged, her voice fierce, but laced with a hint of desperation.

Rio blinked, her gaze slowly sharpening as she looked into Agatha's eyes. For a moment, she seemed completely lost, her mind still trapped in the fog of what was coming for her. But then the weight of Agatha's words seemed to sink in, the fog in her eyes lifting just enough to bring her back to the present.

Still, Agatha saw it—the way Rio's eyes darted to the door. The fear was written in her every movement, in the way her body stiffened, and in the tension that radiated off her. It wasn't just the monsters outside, the vengeful souls clawing their way toward the cabin. No, that wasn't the true terror haunting Rio. Agatha could see it, clear as day.