The piercing scream of the monitor still echoed in the sterile room, long after Lena's voice had gone hoarse. Her father's hand lay limp in hers, cold creeping into his skin. Nurses whispered urgently. Someone called for a doctor. Someone else dimmed the harsh overhead light.
But none of it reached her.
She felt Moody's arms around her, but barely. Felt Bena's sobs in the background, but distantly. Felt Sela's shaking breaths, but like echoes through thick glass.
Everything was fading.
Like she'd been swallowed by a silence even grief couldn't fill.
Her father was gone.
Gone.
Lena bowed her head, forehead pressed against the back of his still hand.
"Dad… please," she whispered, voice shredded. "Please don't leave yet. You can't leave me now. Not after all this."
The monitor remained flat.
Moody held her tighter.
A nurse stepped forward with trembling sympathy.
"I'm so sorry—"
The lights flickered.
Once.
Twice.
Then every bulb in the room buzzed with a low, humming vibration—like the building itself had swallowed a breath.
"W-What's happening?" Bena whispered, frozen mid-cry.
Lena lifted her head, eyes red and unfocused.
The air grew heavy. Thick. Almost electric.
Moody stiffened instantly, pulling Lena back as he placed himself partly between her and the bed.
"Everyone… move back," he warned.
The nurses stared at him in confusion but obeyed instinctively.
A pressure—an invisible weight—settled over the room.
And then—
Mr Luke exhaled.
A long, ragged, unnatural inhale followed.
The heart monitor jumped.
Once.
Twice.
Then surged back into a rhythm too strong, too fast, too alive to be normal.
The nurses gasped.
"His heart—wait—he was—"
"What's happening?!"
Lena didn't blink. Didn't breathe.
Her father's eyelids fluttered.
Slowly.
Too slow.
But they opened.
Not fully.
Just enough to show—
Not the hazy brown she knew.
But a shimmer of silver.
The same colour that made Moody's jaw lock in place.
The same colour that froze the air around them.
The same color her father had feared.
Lena's blood ran cold.
"Dad?" she whispered, stepping forward despite Moody's restraining hand.
His body twitched, muscles jerking with strange, sharp tension. His fingers curled, knuckles whitening until the tendons threatened to snap.
Sela screamed and covered her mouth. Bena stumbled backward.
The nurses were frozen to the spot.
Only Moody moved, pulling Lena back again, this time with a force that bordered on fear.
"Lee—don't."
But Lena couldn't look away.
Mr. Luke's lips parted.
A breath escaped him—not warm, not living, but cold enough to fog the air.
His voice came next.
Not broken like before.
But layered.
Two tones at once.
Her father's…
And something beneath it.
"Lee… he's coming."
Lena's hands trembled violently.
"Dad—who?"
Mr. Luke's head jerked as if he were fighting himself.
"The man with the silver mark…"
His breath hitched, body arching off the bed as the monitor spiked wildly.
"…he's not who you think…"
Moody's grip tightened around Lena's wrist until she winced.
"Everyone OUT!" Moody barked to the nurses, to Sela, to Bena.
But Lena couldn't move.
Her father's hand—stiff seconds ago—shot upward and clamped around her wrist with iron strength.
She gasped.
"Dad—! You're hurting me—"
He pulled her closer, face twisting with agony.
"Listen… to me…"
Moody surged forward, trying to pry her free.
Mr. Luke's voice dropped to a whisper only she could hear.
"He's closer than I thought…"
His eyes flicked past her.
Right over her shoulder.
Straight to where Moody stood.
"…and he's already found you."
Moody froze.
Lena's heart stopped cold.
"What?" she choked out, shaking. "Dad—what do you mean? What are you saying?"
Her father's grip tightened painfully, the silver glow in his eyes pulsing.
"Don't trust—"
His body spasmed violently.
The monitor shrieked.
Lena screamed.
Moody tore her away with a force that sent them both stumbling to the floor.
Mr. Luke arched once—
Just once—
Then collapsed back onto the bed.
The silver faded.
The room fell silent again.
The nurses rushed back in, shouting orders, running checks, panicking—but Lena could hear none of them.
She was staring at Moody.
Moody, who wouldn't meet her eyes.
Moody, whose entire body was rigid with something she had never seen before.
Something close to…
Fear?
Her voice quivered.
"Moody… why did he look at you like that?"
He still didn't look at her.
Didn't move.
Didn't breathe.
And when he finally spoke—
His voice was barely human.
"Lena… I need you to trust me," he whispered.
But Lena's heart hammered with her father's last words.
Don't trust the man with the silver mark.
Moody slowly lifted his head.
And in the faint hospital glow—
A thin, shining crescent…
A silver mark…
Gleamed just beneath his left ear.
Lena staggered backward.
Her breath vanished.
Everything inside her shattered.
Because the person her father warned her about…
The one she was supposed to fear…
Was standing right in front of her.
And holding her hand.
She froze on her spot, her tiny feets barely breathing but forced her trembling lips to let out some words.
" Who are you?"
Moody moved closer trying to grab her hand slowly but she yanked it away, not believing her eyes. She moved closer toward the wall her eyes glued on her dying Dad. With all the hope she had in him, now everything is blurred. If she loses her father, she won't be able to face anything. She's nothing without him.
" Lena please! Please try to hear me out. You don't know anything at all. " Moody said finally after gathering up the courage to speak again.
' Stop! Just stop your pretence, I'm tired of hearing another bullshit Moo, I trusted you but....fuck! She cursed storming out of the room leaving him still stranded in his position.
He let out a shaky breath then lowered his head as if cursing himself for everything which of course he doesn't know all about. He never wished this to happen but still it did yet he doesn't know how to fix it. The grip he once hoped for, just slipped right from his eyes. Everything is ruined, totally.