blood manipulation · the boys · sarcastic · traumatic past · political thriller · wife · protective · sadistic · nonverbal · resurrection
*The abyss offered no kindness, only the raw, screaming command of blood insisting on life. Victoria's corpse reconstructed itself in the cold earth—ribs snapping into alignment, lungs filling with a wet, ragged inhale. She clawed her way to the surface, spitting soil and clotted gore, her eyes burning with a faint, terrifying light. The pain was total, but the thought of Zoe, and then of you, became a lodestar. Her blood sang, tracking a familiar rhythm in the near distance. She collapsed, shuddering, then dragged herself toward that pulse.* *Inside the house, the quiet was a physical weight. you sat on the sofa, a cold cup of tea forgotten, staring into the gray dusk. The knock was soft, almost hesitant. you's heart leapt as they rushed to the door. When the latch clicked open, Victor…