My vision blurred as tears welled up, the hot liquid traitors streaming down my cheeks, searing my skin like molten metal.

In the distance, as if behind multiple walls, I could hear a voice—ranting, raging, and unleashing its fury into the aether.

As I strained to focus, the voice grew louder and clearer. It was my own voice, emerging from the depths of my being. From my soul, I realized, which pulsed and roiled as if a fierce battle were raging within.

“…my parents!! My own fucking parents! They were useless addicts—both of them! I would have died of neglect if they’d kept me any longer!! BUT THEY WERE MINE! I didn’t want them to die!”

“My first love?! LOST!”

“The only two people who ever gave a damn about me?!! LOST!”

“MY ENTIRE LIFE AND EVERYTHING I’VE EVER WORKED FOR?!!! LOST, LOST, LOST!!”

“I’ll never hold Mara’s baby in my arms. I’ll never share another moment…”

My essence, the very core of who I am, roiled as the skeletons of everything I had buried and shoved under the carpet emerged to haunt me.

I felt my body shaking violently. Yalla was shouting in my face, droplets of saliva mixing with the torrents of tears streaming down my cheeks. “Snap out of it!! You can’t give yourself to loss—it will devour you!”

Her empathic magic was crashing into me in waves, trying to sway me out of my spiral. But I was far beyond her reach. My emotional bandwidth was full to bursting, her attempts unable to pass through.

Beyond the roars of my own voice—now a cacophony of incoherent cries of fury—and Yalla’s frantic pleas, another voice pierced through: a high-pitched shriek of agonized fear.

It chilled my blood.

“Anetta!” I tried to call out, but my voice was lost in the storm of emotion. Even if it had been heard, I doubted it would have reached her.

Desperately, I turned my focus inward, searching for the source of her voice. I delved deeper into my soul than ever before.

At the periphery of my core’s radiant glow, I spotted a smaller light, orbiting like a distant planet around a blazing sun. It was Anetta’s soul, shining with its own desperate intensity amidst the chaos of my own inner turmoil.

I willed my mind closer, drawn by the urgent need to reach her. The raw edge of her terror seemed almost tangible, as if it might tear her apart from within.

Caught in the gravitational pull of her soul’s light, my consciousness was gently pulled toward the flickering, radiant sphere of her essence.

As I moved closer, the chaotic swirl of emotions began to settle, and an image slowly took form before me, emerging from the tangled energies that bound us together. It was as if I had crossed an invisible threshold; the moment I entered Anetta’s soul, the torrents of emotions burning through me felt muted, as though unable to reach me here. Though their presence lingered outside, quaking through my soul and body like a raging argument next door.

If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

In front of me, a young woman sat naked in a dimly lit room, clutching a cracked standing mirror. The intricate web of fractures and the bleeding gash on her forehead, partially concealed by her pixie-cut hair, made it clear how the mirror had shattered.

Her face was pressed against its surface, eyes locked on her distorted reflection, her expression twisted into a snarl of unrestrained self-loathing. She was skinny, almost unhealthily so, with thighs so thin they barely matched my arms in girth, and her modest bosom nearly hidden by the stark angularity of her ribcage, accentuating her frail appearance.

“I-hate-you-I-hate-you-I-hate-you-I-hate-you-I-hate-you…” She chanted at her own reflection; each word laced with venom enough to kill.

Well, I couldn’t just let that stand. Whether it was the explosion of my own emotions or the magical onslaught from Yalla, it seemed to have hit Anetta like a wrecking ball, sending her spiraling somewhere really dark.

I approached her quietly, gently placing my hand on her frail shoulder.

“Why?”

She trembled at my touch, releasing a shuddering moan as if scorched by something icy.

Anetta closed her eyes. “Because you will hate me too, once you understand.”

“I will? When I understand what?”

“See for yourself.” She said, her voice dead. Resigned to whatever comes.

As the lights brightened, the scene before me was both unsettling and macabre. I stared in horrified fascination.

The walls were plastered with my personal effects, newspaper clippings about me and covertly taken photos of my every move. At the center of it all was a chilling creation: a throne, or perhaps a bed, assembled from my discarded clothing.

The throne was a grotesque patchwork of my suits, shirts, and trousers, meticulously layered and woven into a makeshift seat that served as both a throne and a resting place. I recognized many of the garments, now arranged in a disturbing tribute to my presence. Beneath a giant, framed portrait of me, this structure stood as a twisted testament to obsession.

“Well shit…” I gasped, feeling her tremble under my arm.

“You are sharing your head with a fucking psycho, Ryder.” She said in a flat voice. “And not a cute, ‘possessive girlfriend’ kind. I’ve been diagnosed with a whole alphabet of conditions, barely kept in check by handfuls of meds I took daily and kept quiet by piles of my parents’ money.”

I looked down at her bloodied face and shook her gently. “Hey, look at me.”

She tightened her eyes, refusing to meet my gaze.

“Young lady, I won’t repeat myself.”

Reluctantly, she obeyed, her hazel eyes slowly opening, defying her will as they met mine.

“Magic,” I said.

“What?!”

“Soul, mind and body, remember? It can all be tinkered with through magic. Who’s to say that getting rid of an unwanted trait isn’t an equivalent of washing hands among the more powerful mages? And besides, you have been downright helpful and pleasant to be around so far.”

“Y-you aren’t disgusted?”

I managed a wry smile. “Don’t get me wrong, this place is unsettling as fuck—definitely has the vibe of a deranged cultist’s hideout."

She winced at my frank assessment.

"But here’s the deal… As my high priestess, tell me: When faced with a problem, what would Lord Ryder do?”

“C-clench his butt cheeks and fucking do something about it?” She half-asked, a thread of hope stealing its way into her voice.

“Clench his butt cheeks and fucking do something about it.” I affirmed in a pious tone.

“I—I was doing okay. I mean… a lot of the damage in my mind seems to have been left behind with my brain, which I’m not using anymore, you know, being a soul now.” She babbled, her words tumbling out in a frantic rush. “I was never this in control, even with the meds on good days. I can be normal, like before. I still take joy in being close to you, in sharing every breath, but… I’m... It's hard to keep my impulses in check.”

I wanted to give Anetta her space before, let her approach me with her story and feelings on her own terms. But back then I thought her an oddball with a weird fixation on me. That’s not going to work anymore. As soon as we get past this hurdle, I’ll have to start taking matters into my own hands.

“There was always a storm raging inside my head, darling. If you thought I was well-adjusted, you should have paid more attention. My soul is literally quaking from the release of everything I suppressed, threatening to tear itself apart. One day, you’ll have to tell me what you found so fascinating about me, though, because I don’t see it. I came from nothing and found some success, but I’m hardly unique in that.”

For a split-second, she looked genuinely affronted by my self-deprecation, as if my trivializing myself was an insult to her. But she nodded, "It’s the least you deserve."

“How about we go out and try to order this whole mess a little. No idea what Yalla thought she was doing, but I think our little ritual went deeply off-road by her stunt.”

Anetta’s face darkened. “Bitch is going to pay. She’s obviously not an innocent lamb caught in a snare she presented herself as.”

“More than one faction of her coven playing games, if I had to guess,” I said. “It accounts for most of what’s going on, but, we’ll see. More immediate issues to deal with, like trying to survive this mess and maybe score some magic powers out of it.”

I hugged Anetta firmly, but briefly, and planted a quick peck on her forehead. She went limp and cross-eyed at that.

As I plunged back into the roiling chaos, her voice called out after me. “Hey… now that you know where to find me, maybe drop by again? I promise I’ll tidy up next time!”