Power doesn't always announce itself with thunder. Sometimes, it creeps in quietly, like a secret you once tried to forget.
The room was cold.
Ava stared at the dress the same bloodstained one from the night of her death. Its presence in her new life wasn't just a coincidence. It was a message. A threat. A link to something much deeper.
She picked up the note again.
"If you won't wear it, someone else will."
Vincent was always theatrical. But he didn't waste words. Which meant this wasn't about the dress.
It was about the vessel.
Someone close to her. Someone who would take her place… or already had.
Ava felt it like a crack down her spine. Something was watching. Waiting. And if she didn't find it soon, it would find her.
Later That Night — Maya's Sanctum
Maya lit candles and traced sigils in chalk across the wooden floor. Liam paced the room, restless and guarded.
"Is it me?" he asked suddenly. "Am I the vessel?"
Ava turned to him, shocked. "Why would you think that?"
"Because I've had dreams too," he said quietly. "About Vincent. About fire. And once… I heard him say my name."
Maya frowned. "Dreams don't mean possession. But they can be a sign of proximity. Or a warning."
Ava stepped closer, heart pounding. "When did the dreams start?"
"The night you came back."
She swallowed hard.
So Vincent had started moving as soon as she returned.
Maya placed two fingers on Liam's temple, chanting softly. A golden shimmer passed over his skin, then vanished.
"No trace," she whispered. "He's not the vessel."
Ava exhaled relief washing over her in waves.
But the fear didn't fade.
If not Liam… then who?
Flashback Fragment.
Isabella stood in a stone chamber, surrounded by flames that never touched her skin.
A woman with silver eyes knelt before her.
"You sealed it inside you," she whispered. "You used blood and will and betrayal."
Isabella nodded once. "So long as I live… no one else can claim it."
"Then may death never come for you."
Present
Ava gasped.
The memory had come without warning this time no dream, no trance. Just a rush of heat and voices in her head.
Maya looked up sharply. "What did you see?"
"I sealed something away," Ava whispered. "A power. In myself. To keep it out of Vincent's hands."
Maya stepped back, stunned. "Then it's not just him that's hunting you."
Ava nodded. "It's what's inside me. And now… it's waking up."
The Next Morning -Investigation Begins
Ava moved through the house, watching everyone closely.
The mailman who whistled too cheerfully. The old neighbor who stared too long. The barista who knew her name without being told.
Everyone felt off.
She narrowed her list to three:
Clara the new girl at work who never blinked when Ava mentioned her past.
Detective James the one investigating her "accident" but kept pressing about her dreams.
Elena the café owner with the same pendant Vincent wore in her memories.
She decided to start with Clara.
Later
At Ava's Office
Clara greeted her like usual, smile bright and voice casual.
But Ava watched her closely.
Her shadow didn't move in sync.
Her reflection blinked a beat too late in the glass of Ava's screen.
Vincent's energy always left traces subtle distortions in reality.
Clara handed her a folder. "You look tired. Bad dreams?"
Ava flinched.
"I never said I had any."
Clara smiled. "Didn't you?"
Their eyes locked for a moment too long.
Then the office lights flickered.
And Ava felt it.
Heat building in her palms.
She looked down
Her fingertips glowed faintly gold.
Clara's eyes widened just for a split second.
Then she smiled again, perfect and calm.
"Let me know if you need anything," she said, and walked away.
Back at Maya's
Ava opened her hands. Sparks flickered between her fingers.
"I don't understand this," she said. "What is it?"
Maya's eyes widened. "It's your soul's defense. The power you sealed… it's leaking out."
Liam looked stunned. "So you're saying… she's magic?"
"No," Maya whispered. "She's a key. The last gate between Vincent and what he wants."
Ava looked down at her hands.
And felt something like a heartbeat inside her bones.
It wasn't just power.
It was a presence.
Something ancient.
Something angry.
Something hungry.
That night, Ava stood by the window, watching the city breathe.
The wind whispered her name.
In the reflection of the glass, for just a moment…
Clara stood behind her, not moving.
But when Ava turned
No one was there.
She backed away slowly.
And from her jacket pocket… a single black petal fell to the floor.