Chapter 2: The Devil’s first gift
The sky over Craven Hollow was darker than usual, almost bruised with thunderous clouds as if mourning Elias’s second chance. The sun, strangled behind layers of ash-grey mist, gave no warmth to the air. The town was quieter than it should’ve been—a strange silence that followed Elias as he left the graveyard and walked toward the edge of town. His head buzzed, not from confusion, but awakening.
"I’m alive," he muttered, rubbing his arms, still covered in the soot and blood from the night he died.
He hadn’t gone far before the system’s voice returned, slithering into his ear like silk over steel.
[Devil’s System Initiated: First Soul Contract — Pending...]
"What now?" Elias whispered.
[To survive, you must collect souls. To collect souls, you must understand their sins.]
Just then, the wind changed.
Elias turned the corner and saw a man screaming at a girl no older than ten. She cowered beside a rusted mailbox, her hands shielding her head as the man—face flushed, teeth grinding—raised a belt.
Elias stepped closer, his heartbeat steady. He wasn’t a hero. He never had been. But something inside him moved—an impulse not his own.
[Potential Target Detected. Sin Level: Medium. Type: Wrathful. Eligibility: ACCEPTED.]
"What do you mean, accepted?" Elias muttered.
[Do you want to harvest this soul?]
The man snapped the belt again. The girl whimpered. Elias clenched his fists.
"Yes," he said, not knowing exactly what it meant—but needing to act.
Time slowed.
The system whispered:
[Command confirmed: Initiate Extraction — Level 1 Ability: Devil’s Glare]
His eyes burned, searing like coals behind ice. He stepped forward, unseen by the man at first. When Elias spoke, his voice wasn’t just his own anymore—it had weight, presence, damnation laced through the syllables.
"Touch her again and you’ll answer to something worse than death."
The man turned—and froze.
Elias’s glare was a dagger of memory and shame. In seconds, the abuser fell to his knees, screaming. His eyes rolled into the back of his head, hands clawing at his own face. Memories not meant to be revisited surged through his mind—every foul act, every regret, multiplied and reflected back at him.
Elias watched, feeling... full. Like a part of him was being fed.
[Soul extracted. Wrath Level: Moderate. Total Souls: 1]
The man fell limp. Not dead—but broken. Mind shattered, soul taken.
The girl ran.
Elias didn’t stop her. He couldn’t even speak for a moment, as the energy of the soul settled inside him like cold fire.
Then the system spoke again.
[First soul harvested. Unlocking new path: Devil’s Weaponry — Blood Marked Gauntlet (Locked)]
"What’s that?" Elias asked.
[The more souls you harvest, the more gifts unlock. The Devil never comes empty-handed.]
His hand tingled, the veins pulsing unnaturally. Something ancient stirred under his skin.
He exhaled slowly and walked on.
---
By dusk, Elias had found shelter in the abandoned lighthouse near the cliffs. His old home was out of the question—his mother had buried him. His brother, Lucian, likely wouldn’t believe a word of his return. Not yet.
Inside the lighthouse, cobwebs and broken glass were all that welcomed him, but it was shelter. He lit a makeshift fire and stared at his hands, remembering the man’s scream, the rush of power.
"What am I becoming?"
The system was quiet, for once.
Then footsteps crunched outside.
Elias rose, instantly alert. He hadn’t expected visitors—not in a place like this.
"Show yourself," he growled.
A figure stepped into the doorway. A girl. Dark red jacket. Eyes like sharpened garnet stones. She wasn’t human. Elias could tell from the way the shadows didn’t cling to her—like they were scared of her.
"Didn’t think you’d get away with that soul so easily," she said, voice low, amused.
"Who are you?" Elias asked, pulse spiking.
"I’m Seraphine. Like you... chosen. But not by your little system." Her lips curled. "I’m with the Reapers."
Elias frowned. "The what?"
"You think the Devil’s the only one handing out powers these days?" She stepped forward. "There’s a war coming, Elias Black. You’re just one piece."
He laughed bitterly. "I died three nights ago. I’m still trying to figure out why I’m not rotting."
"Because you’re marked now," Seraphine said. "And marked ones attract enemies."
The air grew colder.
From behind Seraphine, something slithered—a shadow in the form of a man. Elias grabbed a broken pipe just as the creature lunged.
But Seraphine moved faster. Her hand snapped forward, and the creature exploded into ash and smoke.
"You’re not ready for them yet," she said. "But you will be."
Elias stood still, pipe in hand. "Why are you helping me?"
"I’m not," Seraphine smirked. "But I hate losing good entertainment."
With that, she vanished, swallowed by the shadows she seemed to control.
Elias sank back onto the floor, heart racing. The system chimed once more.
[Warning: Paranormal entities now tracking your presence. Prepare for combat scenarios soon.]
He closed his eyes, breathing slowly.
"I didn’t ask for any of this."
But he wasn’t going to run from it either.
---
Meanwhile, in a cold, underground sanctuary carved beneath the town’s church, a pair of glowing red eyes blinked open.
Steve.
The vampire was ancient, nearly forgotten, imprisoned long ago beneath holy ground. But the souls stirring in Craven Hollow, the presence of Elias’s awakening—it called to him like a blood-born echo.
He sat up, cracking bones that hadn’t moved in centuries. "It begins again..."
His claws twitched with anticipation.
"Time to collect what was promised."