Ink and Blood

Time in the Echo Zone was fluid. It felt like they danced through the neon city for weeks, but Val’s watch—which was spinning backward—said only hours had passed.

They sat on the edge of a clock tower, watching a sun that was a burning cube of blue plasma set below the horizon.

Val wiped her nose. Her hand came away black.

She looked at her fingers. It wasn't blood. It was ink. Viscous, shimmering, black ink.

"What is this?" Val asked, panic flaring.

Caspian didn't look concerned. He dabbed at her nose with a silk handkerchief. "It’s just the acclimatization. Your body is shedding its mundane nature. You’re becoming part of the story."

"Val!" Elias’s voice was screaming now, piercing through the mute she had put on him. "Val, listen to me! Your nose is bleeding in the elevator. Your O2 sats are crashing. You are dying. You have to cut the connection."

"I feel fine," Val said to the air. "I feel better than fine."

"You are hallucinating!" Elias yelled. "He’s feeding on you! Look at him! Really look at him!"

Val looked at Caspian. For a second, the glamour flickered. The handsome prince shimmered, revealing something beneath—a skeleton made of wire and broken glass, a mouth full of too many teeth.

Then the image stabilized. Caspian was beautiful again.

"He’s jealous," Caspian sighed. "He wants you back in the grey box. He wants you sad and small."

Caspian stood up. He walked to the edge of the tower.

"I can make it stop, Valerie. The noise in your head. The sadness. I can make you the Queen of the Echo Zone. We can rule this chaos together. No rules. No gravity. No pain."

"What do I have to do?" Val asked. She was so tired of the pain.

"Sever the tether," Caspian pointed to the earpiece. "He is the only thing keeping you real. Cut him off, and you stay here forever."

Val reached for the earpiece.

"Val, wait," Elias’s voice dropped. He wasn't yelling anymore. He sounded broken. "Please. Before you do... just listen."

A click. Then, audio played.

It was the sound of rain on a tin roof. The clatter of silverware. And laughter. Val’s laughter.

*"Stop it, Elias! You’re getting ketchup on my nose!"*

*"It’s a look, Val. Very avant-garde."*

More laughter. Warm. Genuine. Unglamorous.

It was from three weeks ago. They were at the 24-hour diner after a failed ghost hunt. They were eating soggy fries. Val remembered it. She remembered feeling safe. She remembered looking at Elias across the booth and thinking that maybe, just maybe, she didn't need to jump off a crane to feel something.

The memory hit her harder than the neon lights. The Echo Zone flickered. The purple sky turned grey. The floating buildings shuddered.

Val pulled her hand away from the earpiece.

"That’s real," she whispered.

Caspian’s face contorted. The beauty cracked like porcelain.

"Real is boring!" he hissed. "Real is pain! Why would you want that?"

"Because it’s mine," Val said. She stood up, backing away from the edge. "I’m not staying, Caspian."

Caspian laughed. It wasn't charming anymore. It sounded like metal grinding on metal.

"Oh, darling," he said, and the world twisted. The clock tower elongated, turning into a cage of spikes. "You don't get to choose. I’m not asking for a partner. I’m asking for a replacement."