Page 78 of Presence

“We’re here,” he says.

“What is this place?” I manage to ask, my voice barely above a whisper. I rub my arms, looking around the chamber.

The walls are completely unpolished. They look like they could cut my skin open if I pressed against them. They appear slick as if the night dew has permanently settled upon them, and I imagine they’re just as cold as they look.

In the center of the chamber lies a large, circular pit. Something moves within it, but I can’t make out what it is from where I stand.

The ceiling arches high, vanishing into darkness. That faint moonlight filtering through a hole in it casts long, distorted shadows that dance across the walls, creating the illusion of movement. It looks a bit like light filtering through water caverns, reflecting off the surface and casting halos on the walls.

Around the edge of the chamber, I see little alcoves carved into the stone, each holding creepy statues. They are twisted and nightmarish, showing a demon creating scenes of torment and anguish.

Echo, I think. They’re showing Echo.

There’s one of him creeping toward a terrified human, a malicious grin on his face. Another captures him choking that human—the human’s hand is rigid and their spine is sharp against Echo’s defined abs, their face contorted in pain, tears streaming down their cheeks. The next one shows Echo feeding on him.

“Think of this as my home,” he says suddenly, making me jump.

“Why bring me here?” I ask, trying to keep my voice steady.

He glances at me briefly before moving toward the pit. I follow, peering into the abyss. Shapes move beneath the surface, their forms indistinct, like pale, creamy neon light mixed with darkness. Echo dips a single claw into it, capturing a piece of the light on his hand. He licks it off with a long, deliberate motion, groaning with a sound all too familiar.

It’s the same kind of noise he made while having sex. It doesn’t differ at all.

A shiver runs down my spine. My body responds against my will.

“We’re negotiating a deal,” he sighs. “I’ve told you my terms. Until you tell me yours, I can’t leave you for long. We’re… bound.”

A tremor of dread coils within me, mingling with the flicker of desire his presence ignites. I force my gaze away from him, focusing instead on the pit and the shifting shapes within.

He just ate one of those things. My heart races wildly.

“And if I refuse the deal?”

His smile is a cruel slash in the dim light. “You won’t refuse. You can’t. Not anymore.”

For a moment, silence hangs heavy in the air, the only sound the faint, unsettling ripple of whatever lies beneath the surface of the pit. Then, Echo steps closer, his presence overwhelming, suffocating.

“I told you you’re mine. I wasn’t lying. The deal may never come to fruition, but you’re staying with me regardless.”

The words hang between us. Terrible. Tantalizing. I stare into his eyes, searching for any hint of deception, but all I see is the dark, unfathomable depths of his intent.

You’re dead, Claire. If he’s telling the truth, then rejecting him isn’t an option. He owns you.

“Why would you want me here for eternity?” I ask. “Wouldn’t tormenting the same soul over and over get boring for you?”

Echo’s eyes stay locked on mine, not looking away for a second. He doesn’t say anything at first, just watches me. The silence is creepy to say the least. Finally, he speaks in this low, rumbling whisper that echoes through the room.

“Maybe,” he purrs. “I’m willing to try it though. Are you?”

His smile widens. My heart skips a beat.

This is impossible. He’s really trapped me. I’m completely fucking bound to him. My life as I know it is over. And it’s… my own doing, too.

A bitter laugh slips out, harsh and grating. I didn’t mean to let it escape, but it does. Echo cocks his head, eyes flicking to my stretched lips, amusement dancing in his gaze.

“You’re still thinking like a mortal,” he muses, voice smooth and deadly. His hand reaches out, brushing a strand of hair from my face. The cold touch sends a bolt of electricity down my spine.

I close my eyes, struggling against the surge of emotions within me. A part of me wants to surrender, to let his darkness consume me. I desired it even before I knew what he’s done to me. Another part is strangely rebellious. It’s as if only after death did I finally find a will to live. It doesn’t make any sense.

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