Page 1 of Monstrous Grave

Prologue

ARCANE

AGE 21

The night sky looms ominously overhead, shrouded in darkness and devoid of stars—a foreboding shadow cast over this sinister mansion.

I wonder if he has sensed it—the tug-of-war between the realms of good and evil, balancing on that line between right and wrong, knowing that one misstep could plunge him into a horror so profound, it threatens to corrupt him.

It’s there, isn’t it? That festering darkness staining his soul, tearing away at its flesh piece by piece. It’s why he seeks solace in my darkness. We’re two halves of a cracked mirror, bound by the agony of our shared existence. He slices into my skin with every glance, only to leave me bleeding in his aftermath.

Another sound shatters the stillness, and I snap to attention, the peaceful rhythm of my heart transforming into a wild cadence against the cage of my ribs—almost as if I can feel it beating outside my chest. With fists closing around the duvet, I wait, terror thrumming through my veins. My gaze fixates on the balcony perched on the second floor of this sprawling mansion.

Is it an intruder? If it is, the guards patrolling the perimeters would take care of it. But my foster parents have never cared, especially not my father.

Tonight, even the moon’s light fails to calm me, knowing that someone dangerous is waiting outside those doors. Like a warning alarm, every nerve ending in my body buzzes with apprehension.

I glimpse a shadowed figure standing motionless, a silent sentinel with a menacing aura. With wide-open eyes, I stare at him, afraid that if I blink, I’ll miss his actions. A force thrashes against the confines of my ribcage, desperate to break free, while I anticipate his strike.

I know it’s him; he’s always entering my room uninvited.

Yet his presence offers a sense of protection, knowing I’m secure in a world filled with predators. Even with how much I want to deny it, he makes me feel safe in a way no one else can, though we’re both corrupted. It’s sick, wrong, twisted—are siblings supposed to act like this?

Is it wrong to seek solace in each other after fourteen years of living under the same roof, even if he’s only my foster brother?

The shadowy presence observes me, his gaze piercing through the sheets surrounding my resting frame, and I instinctively pull the duvet tighter around me.

A silent presence in the night, he stands there, merely waiting, watching, observing.

He’s lingering outside, not only protecting me but also anticipating the moment when terror will strike me. Then, he will pounce without hesitation.

He wasn’t always like this—he used to be kind, with a smile that could shatter your heart with the beauty of it, like a rainbow splitting the sky. Now, his demeanor has grown colder, marked by broken bones and bruises. His once warm manners have been replaced by a chilling one, giving way to an unwavering intensity. He’s dangerous. Our father changed him with the family’s shady business—dealings I’m not privy to. But, in the dead of the night is where he thrives, and that’s when he can truly be himself.

He craves the fear he instills in me. His predatory smirk makes beastly insects fly around my stomach, highlighting the crush I can’t have on my fucking brother. I wish there were some way to cut the emotions out, bleeding me dry so I wouldn’t feel safe with this predator.

“We’re going to play a little game, you and I,” he had whispered earlier in the morning, his words laced with mystery.

He refused to elaborate more and left me both intrigued and hesitant, never knowing the true extent of his intentions.

Ever since we met at the orphanage when I was seven and he was nine, there has been an enigmatic force around him that slithered its way into my soul, gripping my heart and refusing to let go.

Our foster parents, who adopted us two years later, remain oblivious to the intricate threads that bind us together. They will never understand the connection we share, nor the despair of being homeless with no one to care for you or keep you safe. They simply see us as two children they took in, expecting our close bond to be severed now that we’re adults.

My brother’s warnings about our foster parents rang true the moment we first stepped foot into the manor and I saw everyone discreetly wearing guns for the first time. I instantly knew something was off. Our new father’s eyes glinted with malice, his jaw ticking with unrelenting anger. Within a month of our arrival, my brother’s demeanor shifted, and he became more lethal and aggressive—the hidden traits of his personality filtering through the façade he constructed around me. Other times, he accompanied our father to the shooting range. I never understood the reason for it until years later.

They had shattered his innocence, replacing it with something far more lethal. Days would pass, and I’d catch glimpses of bruises littering his skin, serving as haunting reminders of how much my life had changed since living at the orphanage. We were thrust into a treacherous world, forced to navigate a place where enemies lurked in every corner we hid.

Now, as the years have unfolded, the opulent manor we inhabit is secured by a plethora of guards scattered across the perimeters of our lawn. I find myself sheltered, like a pawn in a game much bigger than I will ever be able to comprehend. All the while, my brother is condemned to endure all the horrors that come with living here.

My eyes land on the figure outside once more, his head tipped back, bathing half of his face in the glowing moonlight. His sharp cheekbones emerge, tracing a confident path against his face—a magnificent masculine elegance.

He observes me the same way I’ve observed him for the past few weeks, with a sense of foreboding hanging thick in the atmosphere, an intensity that could slice through the air like a knife, and a lethal curiosity.

He watches me with those deep brown eyes that see through the depths of my soul, able to tell my own emotions even when I cannot decipher them myself.

After what feels like an eternity, the balcony door eventually creaks open. The sound echoes within my mind, my heart a madman inside my chest. I can’t breathe; the anticipation of what’s going to happen wreaks havoc inside of me.

As the door opens all the way, he slips through the opening and steps into my room without making a sound.

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