Author's Note:
Hi, and welcome to The Collector's Game! This dark fantasy story is filled with mystery, power struggles, and hidden dangers. If you enjoy suspenseful twists and morally grey characters, I hope you'll join Kieran on his journey.
🌙 For mature readers (18+).
🌟 Please like, comment, and follow if you enjoy — it really helps!
The night was heavy, the air thick with smoke and fear.
A girl lay bound to a rotting bed, the ropes biting deep into her wrists. Her skin glistened with sweat, her voice hoarse from crying out.
"Help! Please — somebody, help me!"
The door creaked open. Smoke drifted through, curling like ghostly fingers.
From the darkness stepped a man — tall, cloaked, his eyes burning with a hunger that made her blood turn to ice.
She shrank back, trembling.
"No... no, stay away! Don't come near me!"
But he did, his smile cold, satisfied.
"Because of you, I've become unstoppable. And yet, you deny me now?"
She sobbed, shaking her head.
"It wasn't me. It was her — the one inside. Not me!"
"Ah, but you carry her, don't you?" His voice dropped to a whisper. "Let her out. Or I'll take what I came for."
"Never! You won't win!"
His shadow fell over her as he climbed onto the bed.
His hands explored her body — not with desire, but with dark intent. His mouth found her skin, her curves, and he drew from her as if drinking in the very essence of what he sought. He moved hungrily, desperately, his lips lingering where her strength hid.
Her body betrayed her, the black, viscous substance seeping out as if forced free. He consumed it greedily, his form trembling as power surged through him, his eyes burning brighter, his breath ragged with triumph.
When it was done, he rose without a word, his hunger sated for now.
The girl lay still, her body limp, her spirit drained — abandoned as empty as the ruin that surrounded her.
And he was gone, vanished into the night, leaving only the echo of her final, broken cries behind.