Flashback – 11:30 PM – Benjamin's Penthouse
Water dripped from Benjamin's hair onto the shattered glass littering the floor. Rebecca Barker stood before him, arms crossed, her detective's gaze piercing through his defenses.
"You weren't just meditating," she accused, kicking a shard of mirror with her boot. "You were gone. Like, not-here gone."
Benjamin smirked, wringing out his soaked sleeve. "And you broke my door. I'd say we're even."
Rebecca stepped closer, her voice dropping. "While you were off in la-la land, I did some digging. Ethan Cole? He's got a thing for Dr. Thorne. And he hates how much she favors you."
Benjamin raised an eyebrow. "Ah. So the restraining order was a jealous tantrum. How... petty."
"Petty men do dangerous things when scorned," Rebecca warned. "Watch your back."
Benjamin's smirk faded. "Noted."
Present Day – 7:15 AM – Hospital Parking Lot
Ethan Cole adjusted his tie in the rearview mirror of his Lexus, the morning sun glinting off the polished chrome. As he opened the door, a flash of blue caught his eye.
A woman stood nearby, her cornflower-blue dress hugging every curve, the fabric shimmering under the sunlight. The neckline dipped just enough to tease, the slit along her thigh revealing smooth skin. Her dark hair cascaded over one shoulder, a strand brushing the faint scar on her chin.
"Lost, handsome?" she purred.
Ethan smirked. "Just admiring the view."
She stepped closer, her perfume wrapping around him—jasmine and something darker. "Maria," she introduced, extending a hand.
Ethan took it, expecting a shake. Instead, she yanked him forward and kissed him.
Fire erupted in his mouth.
He stumbled back, gagging. "What the hell was that?"
Maria licked her lips. "That burning, Ethan? That's your soul. And soon, my master will wear it like a second skin."
Ethan wiped his mouth. "You're insane."
She laughed, trailing a finger along his jaw. "Oh, darling. You have no idea."
As she walked away, her hand brushed his car door. Where her fingers touched, the metal blackened.
Ethan stared. Then shook his head. Psycho.
11:30 AM – Emergency Room
Benjamin was suturing a laceration when the scream echoed through the ward.
"SOMEBODY HELP ME!"
Ethan Cole staggered into the ER, his face flushed scarlet, veins bulging. He collapsed onto a gurney, writhing.
"IT BURNS! MAKE IT STOP!"
Benjamin was at his side in seconds. "BP?"
"190/110! Temp 107 and climbing!" a nurse shouted.
Benjamin grabbed Ethan's chart—no allergies, no illnesses. Just sudden, excruciating internal burns.
"Cooling blanket! IV lorazepam, now!"
The team worked frantically, but Ethan's temperature kept rising. 109°F. His skin blistered. Then, he went still.
Coma.
The monitors showed no brain activity. Yet his heart kept beating—strong, steady, wrong.
Like something's puppeteering him.
12:30 PM – Parking Lot Explosion
Rebecca was parking her cruiser when the world exploded.
Ethan's Lexus erupted in a fireball, the shockwave rattling hospital windows. Flames licked the sky, hot and bright.
Benjamin sprinted outside, skidding to a halt beside her.
"Jesus," Rebecca breathed.
Benjamin didn't answer. He was staring at the flames.
Blue.
Only he could see it.
Two Days Later – Ethan's Hospital Room
Rebecca paced while Benjamin checked Ethan's vitals. "This isn't a coincidence. Maria did this."
Benjamin adjusted the EEG leads. "Prove it."
"The kiss. The car. The coma—"
"All circumstantial," Benjamin countered.
Then—
A gasp.
Ethan's eyes flew open—but they weren't his. The pupils were void-black, the irises flickering.
Rebecca drew her gun. "Cole?"
Ethan—no, not Ethan—smiled. "Detective. How predictable." His voice was layered—human and ancient.
Benjamin's blood ran cold. "Wrath."
The thing wearing Ethan's face laughed. "Ah, Hades' boy. Always the last to know."
Rebecca's finger hovered over the trigger. "Last warning, Cole."
Wrath sighed. Then pointed at Benjamin.
"He's the one who blew up my car."
1 Hour Later – Hospital Lobby
Rebecca clenched her jaw as she snapped cuffs around Benjamin's wrists. "I have to bring you in."
Benjamin didn't resist. "You know this is bullshit."
"I know Ethan's car exploded after you parked beside it," she muttered.
As they passed the recovery ward, Ethan—no, Wrath—stepped into view.
"Thank you, Detective," he simpered, then whispered to Benjamin:
"Poor little godling. Did you really think you could win?"
Benjamin's breath caught.
Ethan's body was wreathed in blue haze, pulsing like a living thing.
Then Rebecca was pulling him away, shoving him into a squad car.
As the door slammed, Benjamin's last sight was Ethan's smile—too wide, too many teeth.