Chapter 4 – Xelix's Interest in Enver
Xelix sat across from Enver. Her makeup had faded, her hair was tangled, and her face—pale as a dead moon. But her eyes... they remained wide open. Staring at Enver without blinking—as if falling in love, or... possessed by something older than that feeling.
"What do you see in me... that your eyes turned red?"
Enver's voice was like a cold blade dragging across breath. His hand propped his chin, eyes sharp—piercing through illusions.
Inside Xelix, two spirits wrestled. One—human. The other—a white serpent, an ancient spirit nesting quietly, guiding breath and desire without consent.
"You've been riding this body too long," Enver murmured.
"You've achieved your purpose. Leave… or I'll make you."
From within his coat, Enver pulled out tarot cards. One by one, he laid them on the table. The soft scraping sounded like a broken prayer—a curse-song for the trespassing spirit.
"Part of your energy has already been stolen by Ki. You should be weak now.
Miss Xelix, does your stomach… still burn?"
As if answering, the serpentlings inside her squirmed violently, churning her guts. She held back a scream, body trembling in the chair.
"I'm tempted to rip your stomach open right now," Enver hissed, stepping closer without mercy.
"After everything you did… the moment your disgusting hand first touched my name card. That's when I knew—you were disaster incarnate."
Enver's business card was never just an identity. It was a seal, a summons of fate. Anyone who touched it with a dark heart opened the door to their own judgment.
"Pick a tarot. Let me finish my task."
But Xelix smiled. A strange, twisted smile.
"Aren't you even a little tempted by me? My face… my body…?" she cooed, her voice dripping with seduction. She stood, approaching, twirling her hair with slender fingers.
"I could serve you. For free. Consider it a gift…"
Enver smirked—a curve that never reached his eyes.
"Disgusting…"
He reached for his weapon. A pistol drawn from beneath his belt. He fired.
But before the bullet flew, Marva's hand yanked his arm aside.
"Don't!"
Blood from Enver's body boiled—rushing beneath his skin, forming red cords—sharp, alive. They whipped Xelix's body, yanking her back to the chair.
Marva staggered back, her eyes wide with fear.
Enver stood—his gaze cold, like death itself.
"Never touch me," he said, voice like a curse from a sky tired of prayer.
He knew: his greatest taboo was to kill a human.
If Xelix died, the curse inside him would awaken.
That power—kept frozen and quiet—would crack.
But… revulsion and fury had already poisoned his blood.
The creature inside Xelix had to be purged.
And Enver… was her final executioner.