The Rapture

Mia’s apartment is a small sanctuary amidst the urban bustle of Veritas. Mia's one-bedroom space is cozy, filled with personal touches that reflect her vibrant personality. Colorful throw pillows adorn the couch, bookshelves overflow with well-loved novels, and artwork lines the walls, showcasing her creative spirit.

Despite its modest size, the apartment feels warm and inviting, a stark contrast to the cold, sterile grandeur of Alistair's mansion. Sunlight streams through the window, casting dancing patterns on the hardwood floor, a reminder of the outside world that feels both distant and threatening.

Exhaustion finally claims me, the weight of the day's horrors crashing down upon me. In the safety of Mia's embrace, I surrender to the darkness, my tears staining her shoulder as I drift into a fitful sleep.

The harsh sting of sunlight jolts me awake. Panic surges through me as I scramble up, my instincts screaming for cover. I rush to the windows, frantically closing curtains and blinds, desperately trying to block out the burning rays.

Once the room is plunged into darkness, I retreat to the safety of Mia's bed, burying myself under the covers. The soft fabric offers a comforting cocoon, shielding me from the sun's relentless pursuit.

I glance at the clock, noting the late morning hour. Mia must already be at work, leaving me alone to grapple with the aftermath of last night's horrors.

The silence of the apartment amplifies the pounding in my chest. Fear mingles with exhaustion, leaving me feeling trapped and vulnerable. But I refuse to succumb to despair. I survived Alistair's clutches, and I will survive this too.

A few minutes later, the bedroom door creaks open, flooding the room with a sliver of light. "I made you breakfast, lunch, brunch. I made you brunch," Mia announces cheerfully. Her voice falters as she takes in the darkened room. "Do you... wow, you must like it dark?"

I manage a weak moan and a muffled, "Thank you, you're the best," as I sit up, still cocooned in the covers. The once-elegant dress, now reduced to tattered rags, clings precariously to my body, a painful reminder of the horrors I endured. I clutch the covers tighter, desperate to hide the evidence of my ordeal.

The delicious aroma of Mia's brunch fills the air, but my hunger runs deeper than any food can satisfy. The craving for blood gnaws at me, a primal urge that threatens to overwhelm my senses.

Mia sits beside me on the bed, her voice gentle and understanding. "Do you want to talk about it?" she asks softly.

I shake my head, the tears welling up again. "I will," I manage to choke out, "but I'm not ready yet. Thank you again for everything, Mia."

I pull her into a tight embrace, the warmth of her body a comforting contrast to the coldness that lingers within me. This time, my tears are a mixture of pain and gratitude. The joy of having a true friend, a beacon of light in my darkest hour, fills me with a profound sense of hope.

Mia's voice is soft, and hesitant as she breaks the silence, "Hey, Evie... would you like to do something? Maybe watch a show, play a board game, or just go back to sleep if you're tired?"

I blink back fresh tears, the warmth of her concern a stark contrast to the coldness that still clings to me. "I'm still pretty tired," I admit, my voice raspy, "And my head is pounding. But... maybe we could play some Disney Villainous? It's been ages." A small smile tugs at my lips, a flicker of the old Evie resurfacing amidst the darkness.

Mia's face lights up. "Oh my god, yes! I haven't played that in forever! Let's do it. I'll even let you be Maleficent." She hops off the bed, her energy infectious, and disappears into the living room.

I watch her go, a wave of gratitude washing over me. In this nightmare, Mia is a beacon of normalcy, a reminder of the life I once had, the life I'm fighting to reclaim. And for now, a game of Disney Villainous, a shared memory of laughter and friendship, is exactly what I need.

The insistent buzzing of my phone drags me from a deep sleep. The room is cloaked in twilight, the sun's harsh glare thankfully absent. I fumble for the device, my heart pounding with a mix of dread and anticipation.

"Arlo?" I answer, my voice thick with sleep.

"Evie, are you okay?" His voice is laced with concern, a familiar warmth that cuts through the lingering chill of the night.

"I'm... I'm alright," I reply, my voice catching in my throat. "What about you and Vivienne?"

"We're safe," he assures me, but there's a hesitation in his tone, a guardedness that sets off alarm bells in my mind. "But listen, Evie, it's important that you stay with Mia. Don't let her leave the house, and don't invite anyone in. Not even Vivienne or me, understand?"

Confusion washes over me. "Why? What's going on?"

"I can't explain everything right now," he says, his voice urgent, "Just trust me. Alistair is still out there, and he's looking for you. We need to make sure he can't use anyone to get to you."

A shiver runs down my spine. The memory of Alistair's control, his ability to twist minds and manipulate bodies, floods back to me. I nod, my voice barely a whisper. "Okay, I understand. Be careful, Arlo."

"We will," he promises. "And Evie... we'll find a way to get you back. Just stay safe."

The line goes dead, leaving me alone in the quiet apartment. I clutch the phone to my chest, a cold fear settling in my stomach. Arlo's warning echoes in my mind, a stark reminder of the danger that still surrounds us.

I glance around the darkened room, the shadows seeming to deepen. I'm safe here, for now. But for how long? And what will Alistair do when he realizes I'm not at the Obsidian Spire?

I emerge from the bedroom, the comforter wrapped tightly around me like a protective cocoon. It trails behind me, a makeshift security blanket against the vulnerability I feel. Mia looks up from the game board, her brow furrowed with concern. The Villainous game is set up, the green Maleficent figurine waiting expectantly.

"Thank you again for everything, Mia," I say, my voice thick with emotion.

Her gaze lingers on my shrouded form, her concern deepening. It's a look I thought I knew, but never with this intensity. I force a smile, trying to reassure her. "Everything's okay," I lie, "But there's something I need to tell you."

The air thickens with anticipation. It's time to reveal the truth, to share the burden I've carried alone for so long.

Mia remains silent, her hazel eyes filled with a mix of worry and understanding. She gives me the space I need to gather my thoughts, a testament to her unwavering friendship.

A whirlwind of doubts swirls within me. Should I tell her everything? Should I keep her in the dark? The weight of the secret I carry feels suffocating, but the fear of dragging her into my dangerous world is equally heavy. Have I already involved her too deeply?

Finally, I decide to give her a choice. "Mia," I begin, my voice barely above a whisper, "do you want to know everything? I need to warn you, there's no going back once I tell you. Your world will change, and not necessarily for the better."

Mia's playful demeanor fades, replaced by a seriousness that I've rarely seen in her. Her hazel eyes lock onto mine, unwavering. "Evie," she says, her voice firm, "what good would it do to not tell me?"

Her words hang in the air, a challenge and a plea. She's not backing down, not shying away from the potential darkness that lurks beneath the surface. It's a testament to her strength, and her loyalty, and it fills me with a renewed sense of hope.

"You're right, Mia," I admit, my voice thick with emotion. "I should have told you sooner. The first night Arlo and I were here... I was foolish, thinking that keeping you in the dark would somehow protect you, protect me."

I pause, taking a deep breath. The words feel heavy, laden with the weight of my guilt and regret. But it's time to face the truth, to share the burden I've been carrying alone for far too long.

"But I was wrong," I continue, my voice firmer now. "Keeping secrets only isolates us, and creates barriers where there should be trust. I'm sorry, Mia. I never meant to hurt you."

Taking a deep breath, I begin to unravel the tangled threads of my story. I tell Mia about the night Arlo saved me from death, turning me into a vampire. I explain my quest to harness my aura, the manifestation of my soul, and the power it holds.

Then, I recount the horrors of the previous night - the attack at the ball, Alistair's sinister control, and our desperate escape. My voice cracks as I describe Vivienne and Arlo's sacrifice, their willingness to face Alistair's wrath so that I could flee.

The words tumble out, a torrent of pain and fear. I tell her about the bullet, the blinding light, the agonizing healing process. I confess my worry for my friends, and my determination to rescue them from Alistair's clutches.

As the weight of my story settles upon us, tears stream down my face. Mia, her eyes wide with shock and concern, rushes to my side. She wraps her arms around me, her warmth a comforting anchor in the storm of my emotions.

I bury my face in her shoulder, the sobs wracking my body. It's a release, a catharsis after days of holding it all in. And in Mia's embrace, I find a strength I didn't know I possessed.

Between choked sobs, I confess my deepest fear. "I'm so sorry, Mia," I whisper, my voice raw with guilt. "I'm so sorry for bringing you into this mess. It's all my fault."

The words tumble out, a torrent of self-reproach. I cling to her, my grip tightening as if I could somehow shield her from the darkness that now threatens to engulf us both.

Mia's eyes widen, her shock momentarily eclipsing her usual warmth. The gravity of my confession hangs heavy in the air, the silence punctuated only by the soft sounds of the city outside. Then, her voice, firm and resolute, cut through the tension. "Evie," she says, her gaze unwavering, "this isn't your fault."

I shake my head, the tears flowing freely now. "But I brought it here, to you. I endangered you, Mia. I should have never-"

She interrupts me, her hands cupping my face, forcing me to meet her gaze. "No, Evie. You didn't ask for this. None of this is your fault. You were attacked, and violated. You're the victim here, not the perpetrator."

Her words pierce through the fog of self-blame that has clouded my mind. I open my mouth to protest, but she silences me with a gentle shake of her head.

"Listen to me," she insists, her voice unwavering. "You did nothing wrong. You were targeted, and manipulated. You fought back, you protected your friends, and you survived. That takes incredible strength, Evie. Don't you dare blame yourself for something that was done to you!"

Her words, spoken with such conviction, begin to chip away at the wall of guilt I've built around myself. A flicker of hope ignites within me, a small voice whispering that maybe, just maybe, she's right.

"You're not responsible for Alistair's actions," Mia continues, her voice softening. "You're not responsible for the darkness that exists in this world. All you can do is fight back, protect those you love, and never give up. And I'll be right here with you, every step of the way."

Her words wash over me, a soothing balm on my wounded soul. The guilt doesn't disappear completely, but it lessens, replaced by a sense of shared burden, a newfound strength in the face of adversity.

I look into Mia's eyes, seeing not pity or fear, but unwavering support and love. And in that moment, I know that I'm not alone in this fight. I have Mia, as my anchor in this storm, and together, we will face whatever darkness comes our way.