Fred couldn't sleep.
The night clawed at him — it always did now.
Nia and Torin lay unconscious beside him, their shallow breaths the only sign of life. The storm outside had subsided, but it left an eerie silence in its wake, like the calm before an inevitable storm.
He'd been awake for hours, staring at the broken remnants of the fire, trying to calm his racing thoughts. The cabin, or whatever that thing had been, still haunted him. Its whispers echoed in his mind, each word a chilling promise of what could come.
> "You will die like the rest."
He couldn't shake it. The threat lingered like a shadow, stretching far into the future.
Fred knew that something had changed in him that night. Something inside had snapped, but also solidified. He had resisted the temptation. But how long could he keep resisting? How long could he keep running before the darkness he'd narrowly escaped caught up with him?
---
By morning, the world had changed.
The forest was no longer just a tangled wilderness. It was a place of dread. The trees stood like towering sentinels, their bare branches reaching toward Fred as if they had been waiting for him.
He stood up, dusted off the frost from his clothes, and checked on Nia and Torin. They still weren't fully awake, but they were breathing — shallow, yet steady. Fred knew he had to keep moving. The forest wasn't safe. But where could he go?
His feet carried him toward the edge of the clearing when he heard it.
A voice.
Low. Gravelly.
"Fred."
Fred froze.
The voice was familiar, but it sent a shiver down his spine.
He turned slowly, eyes scanning the trees.
Out of the mist emerged a figure. A silhouette at first, but as it drew closer, Fred recognized him. The man wore a dark leather jacket, his long black hair tied back in a messy ponytail. His sharp eyes locked onto Fred with an intensity that felt like fire.
It was Ronan.
Fred's heart skipped a beat.
Ronan.
The name alone was enough to make Fred's skin crawl.
---
Ronan had been a shadow from Fred's past — a past Fred desperately wanted to forget. They had once been friends. Once, they had fought side by side. But that was before betrayal, before lies, before everything had gone to hell.
Ronan had disappeared for years, leaving Fred to fend for himself in a world that became increasingly dangerous. Fred never thought he would see him again. And yet, here he was, standing before him like a specter.
> "What the hell are you doing here?" Fred demanded, his voice harsh with disbelief and anger.
Ronan's lips curled into a twisted smile.
> "I was about to ask you the same thing," he replied, his voice low and mocking. "But I see you've been busy, Fred. I'm not the only one who's changed."
Fred's fists clenched, but he forced himself to remain calm. He couldn't let Ronan get to him. Not now. Not after everything that had happened.
> "I don't have time for your games," Fred spat. "I've already got enough problems."
Ronan stepped closer, his gaze fixed on Fred. "You always did. But this time, it's different."
Fred tensed, his instincts screaming at him to run, but something held him there.
---
Ronan's eyes flicked over to Nia and Torin, his gaze calculating.
> "Are they with you?" he asked, nodding toward the unconscious bodies.
Fred nodded curtly, still keeping his distance.
> "Why should I trust you?" Fred asked, his voice tight with suspicion. He knew better than to trust anyone from his past, least of all Ronan.
Ronan chuckled darkly, stepping back and crossing his arms.
> "You don't have to trust me, Fred," he said. "I'm not here to make friends. But I do have something you want."
Fred's heart sank. He had learned long ago that when someone said that, they meant trouble.
> "What are you talking about?" Fred asked, the words slipping out before he could stop them.
Ronan smiled, as if Fred had already fallen into his trap.
> "I know who's behind the events that led you here," he said, his tone like honey, thick and dangerous. "I know who's been pulling the strings all along."
Fred's breath caught in his throat.
He couldn't breathe.
The cold air seemed to freeze in his lungs.
He knew what Ronan was offering — information. But it came at a cost. There was always a cost.
> "I don't need your help," Fred replied, but even to himself, his voice sounded weak. He wanted to believe that. But deep down, he knew he needed answers.
Ronan's eyes gleamed with malice.
> "You can't survive alone, Fred. You never could. But I can help you… if you're willing to make a deal."
Fred shook his head, his mind racing. A deal? What could Ronan possibly offer him that Fred didn't already have?
> "What kind of deal?" Fred asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
Ronan took a step forward, his smile widening.
> "You want to find out who's really behind all of this," he said, his words heavy with meaning. "You want to take them down. But to do that, you need the right tools. And I've got them."
Fred's stomach churned.
He didn't know whether to run, to fight, or to take the bait.
> "What do you want in return?" Fred asked, his voice strained.
Ronan's gaze was ice-cold.
> "Your loyalty, Fred. That's all. Your loyalty. And a promise that you won't try to double-cross me."
Fred stared at Ronan, trying to read his intentions. There was something in the way he spoke — the way he smiled — that made Fred uneasy.
But there was also something in Fred's chest — a desperate hunger for answers, for revenge, for closure.
And he knew, deep down, that he would never find peace until he knew the truth.
---
Fred nodded slowly, his voice barely audible as he said the words he never thought he would say.
> "Deal."
Ronan's smile widened, his eyes gleaming with a dark promise.
> "Good. You won't regret it," he said. "But be careful, Fred. You've just made a deal with the devil."
Fred didn't answer.
He didn't need to.
He could feel the weight of it already — the weight of the choice he had just made.
---