The things I do for love

“JAMES, STOP!” Daniel shouts, grabbing James’s bony wrist. The hammer slips from James’s grip, dropping with a crack against the concrete floor.

“GET THE FUCK OFF ME!” James hisses, yanking his arm free and stepping back from Daniel.

“Why would I stop?” James’s voice trembles. “This pain… it has no end.” His hands clench into fists, and tears rim his eyes. “I have to do something.”

“I know you’re hurting. I miss her too,” Daniel says, voice strained. “But you have to understand—what you’re doing is taboo. Resurrections never go as planned. You know this.”

“And who decides what’s taboo?” James snarls. “The gods who damn us to suffer on this earth? Or those hypocrites in the church, who'll twist anything to fit their narrative?”

Daniel stands in silence, stunned.

“Huh!? So what is it, Danny boy?”

Daniel exhales heavily and steps closer. He places his hands gently on James’s shoulders, his eyes full of sorrow.

He gazes into James, hoping—desperately—that his eyes might serve as a mirror to show James just how far gone he is.

“You know Cassandra would have never wanted this.”

James chuckles, bitter and broken, and brushes Daniel’s hands away.

“Why don’t we ask her? She’s right here.”

From his belt, James unclips a lantern lit with a flickering blue flame and holds it up to his face.

Daniel’s eyes widen. “Oh my gods… what have you done?”

“I made a deal,” James replies flatly, tear streaks drying on his cheeks.

“You... fucking... BASTARD!” Daniel lunges, tackling him. The lantern crashes to the ground. Daniel pins him, throwing punch after punch.

“I KNEW YOU WERE NEVER TO BE TRUSTED! I’VE ALWAYS HATED YOU!”

James’s vision blurs. He begins to fade until he feels something familiar brush against his hand—the leathery grip of the hammer.

CRACK.

The hammer connects with Daniel’s jaw. He howls in pain and collapses. James kicks him off and climbs to his feet, spitting out blood and mucus.

Daniel groans, struggling to get up, one hand holding his dislocated jaw as blood gushes between his fingers. He wobbles, then falls to his hands and knees.

“I never meant to hurt you, Daniel,” James says, catching his breath. “I know you loved her too.”

He turns his back and retrieves the lantern, walking toward a chalk-drawn pentagram at the center of the basement. Three dogs lay atop the symbol, still breathing, their ribs barely raising.

“Yo… nev… lov… he...”

James pauses, glancing over his shoulder. “Excuse me?”

Daniel, jaw barely holding together, forces out words through the blood.

“You… never… loved… her.”

“How the fuck would you know?” James’s voice cracks. “I fucking knew it, you were always jealous of what we had.”

“Ritual… calls… out… human… sacrifice…”

James scoffs. “Guess someone forgot to do their homework. The forbidden text only says ‘a sacrifice is needed.’”

He steps onto the edge of the symbol. “Can’t you see, Daniel? Humans, dogs, rats—we’re all the same under the neglectful eyes of our gods.”

“You… couldn’t… even… kill… for… he—”

Daniel’s eyes roll back. His body collapses, slumping into the pool of blood beneath him.

James doesn’t notice—too caught up in his spiral.

“REFUSING TO USE HUMAN SACRIFICES IS PROOF ENOUGH OF MY LOVE FOR HER!” he shouts, voice shaking. “SHE WOULD HAVE NEVER WANTED THAT!”

Silence.

James, chest heaving, turns back to the pentagram. He grips the hammer tighter and takes a long breath.

“The things I do for love.”

He raises the hammer. One by one, he brings it down. Each blow crushes a dog’s skull, blood and brain matter splattering across his arms, hands, and shirt. He swallows hard, trying not to retch.

The blood begins to move on its own, snaking along the chalk lines. It fills the grooves of the pentagram until not a single stroke remains untouched.

He knows what this means. The sacrifice has been accepted.

James lifts the lantern and opens it.

The blue flame drifts out, hovering just above the bloody symbol. He stares, mesmerized.

Then—the room begins to quake.

Chunks of the ceiling rain down. The basement walls crack. The dogs rise into the air, orbiting the flame.

Their flesh unravels like yarn, sinew peeling away. Bones twist like wet clay, reshaping, fusing. Blood, flesh, and marrow swirl around the flickering flame.

It all collects, merging into a strange new form. The flame remains at the core.

James watches, unable to look away. Perturbed emotions wash over him in waves.

And then, silence.

“Cassandra?” he whispers.

The being’s eyes open—strange and upturned. Its head jerks as it sniffs the air. It locks onto Daniel’s limp body.

Its tongue slithers from its mouth, licking its lips. Sharp fangs glint in the lamp light.

Without hesitation, it scrambles across the floor and sinks its teeth into Daniel’s face.

Tearing flesh. Devouring.

James drops to his knees. “No. Oh gods, no.”

His hands tremble and his breath quickens; he lets out a scream—long and ragged—as the creature with his lover’s face consumes his friend.

“CASSANDRA, PLEASE STOP! IT WAS NEVER SUPPOSED TO BE THIS WAY!”

The creature stops feeding.

It turns its blood-matted head toward James. Sniffs. Crawls.

He doesn’t move. Just trembles.

The creature stands over him.

It lets out a soft, almost loving coo.

James looks up—his cheeks soaked, his eyes raw and red.

And in the creature’s glossy black eyes, he sees his reflection.

But he doesn’t recognize himself.

The creature lunges, sinking its teeth into his neck. It’s agony—until it isn’t. The pain fades into something warm, almost like an embrace. James brushes the back of the creature’s head as it gnaws into his shoulder.

“I’m so sorry, Cassandra,” he whispers.

His limbs grow heavy. The warmth drains from his body along with his blood. Looking up at the cracked ceiling, clutching the creature to his chest, he thinks only of the first time he held Cassandra—and how he should’ve never stained that memory.

Then: blackness.

Nothingness.

Until—

James opens his eyes.

White. As far as the eye can see.

“What... is this place?”

From the blank ground, a white orchid sprouts. He leans closer—and an eye opens at its center.

He stumbles back. “What the fuck?”

“Ah, yes. Hello, newcomer.”

“Who are you? What are you?”

“I am your liaison.”

“My liaison? For what?”

“Hell.”

A long silence.

“Hell? This can’t be right. Where’s the fire? The demons? The torment?”

“No need.”

“Why not?”

“Because your eternal damnation is this: realizing you’re just as narcissistic and hypocritical as the gods and holy figures you curse.”

The eye narrows.

“And knowing you have only yourself to blame.”

James sneers. “Go to hell.”

The flower giggles.

“You first.”

It fades, leaving James alone. Completely.