Still on our way to his vehicle.
I broke the silence with the question that had long tormented my thoughts.
"You have a brother...?" I asked slowly, my eyes fixed on the dimly lit walkway leading to the garage. My steps echoed softly, tapping against the tiled floor in an uneven rhythm, betraying the anxiety in my chest.
"Yes, I do. Lucien," he replied, staring straight ahead.
I was stunned he even responded this time. I had expected one of his usual proverbs, or worse, that frustrating silence cloaked in nonchalance.
But not this time.
This time, it felt like he wanted to talk.
"So why don't you ever mention him? And why isn't he ever in the news with you?" I asked, trying to keep my voice steady, though it trembled slightly. I wasn't just making conversation. I was drawing answers.
This moment felt rare, like a crack in the wall he usually kept so firmly shut.
We reached the car. He opened the driver's side and got in, and I followed. Before starting the engine, he spoke again.
"Lucien isn't the kind of man he pretends to be. And whatever he told you… is probably a lie."
His voice was low and cold. He stared out through the tinted window, his face illuminated briefly by the overhead garage light.
"He's a green snake."
He turned the key, and the engine growled to life.
I didn't say anything else. I knew those were the last words he was willing to give, and I didn't want to push him further. I turned toward the glass, pressing my forehead lightly against the cool surface, watching the city blur past as we drove.
Ukraine.
A beautiful, haunting place. At night, its charm deepened. The buildings were washed in soft amber light, casting shadows that danced like ghosts. The streets, even in stillness, pulsed with secrets. It was a land that breathed mystery, and now, fear.
I didn't know it then, but that fear would grow like a weed.
— — —
Eventually, we arrived home. We had dinner in quiet coordination, like strangers in a well-rehearsed play.
Afterward, we retreated to our room.
I took my bath first. Then Luthor went in.
And that was when it happened.
The moment I had been waiting for dreading, but needing.
With trembling hands, I reached beneath the drawer and pulled out the envelope. My heart pounded like a warning bell.
I tore it open.
Inside were two photos… and a letter.
The first photo showed a man and a woman sitting on a car, holding a baby between them. My breath hitched. They felt familiar
The second image nearly made me drop the envelope.
It was Luthor. But not the man I knew.
No.
It was him… transformed.
His eyes glowed a haunting yellow. Blood streamed from his hands like water from a mountain spring. His body was barely human covered in fur, his muscles twisted and bulging beneath unnatural skin. His face was contorted with rage, lips curled back to reveal teeth meant for tearing, not speaking.
A beast.
A monster hiding beneath skin I once found comfort in.
I backed away instinctively, my body rejecting what my eyes had seen.
Tears blurred my vision as I unfolded the letter. My hands shook so violently I could barely hold the paper still.
"I know you must be wondering if that's really him. Yes. Yes, it is. Ever wonder how he was strong enough to save you that day?
Because this is his true form.
With that form, he killed your parents.
the ones in the first photo.
He destroyed your hometown, Setvastl.
If you ever consider escaping from that hell, like I did, call this number:…"
My heart dropped.
Fear wrapped itself around me like cold chains.
I couldn't breathe.
I didn't want this to be true.
No. It couldn't be.
Luthor wasn't that kind of man… was he?
I tried to convince myself, whispering empty reassurances into the silence, but the words fell flat. The evidence screamed while my heart tried to muffle it.
Everything pointed to one truth.
Except my love.
He emerged from the bathroom then. Steam followed him like a ghost.
I scrambled to hide the envelope and its horrifying contents, shoving them beneath the bed as quickly and quietly as I could.
If he found out I knew...
If he even suspected...
Would he kill me too?
— — —
The next morning, after he left for work, I moved on instinct.
I packed my things with quiet desperation. Every item I folded into the bag felt like an act of rebellion. An act of survival.
I couldn't stay.
Not with him.
Not with the devil.
Not after everything I'd seen.
I couldn't unsee the beast in the photo. I couldn't sleep in the arms of the man who might have murdered my family.
Even if I had no home, no money, no plan…
I had to run.
I had to believe that there was safety outside these walls, that somewhere out there, I could start over.
And now, I had someone.
Someone who said he could save me.
Lucien.
Or so I thought.
If only I had known…
That by following him, I was walking straight into the arms of hell.