The basement door screamed as Matthew forced it open.
Rust flaked from the hinges. Dust choked the air. A sharp, metallic scent flooded out a mix of mildew and old blood. The stairs beyond disappeared into pitch-black silence.
Noah paused at the threshold, heart pounding. Every instinct screamed at him to turn back. But the look on Matthew's face told him there was no other way forward.
"Stay close," Matthew said to him , lighting a lantern from his coat. "And don't speak unless I tell you to."
"I wasn't planning on chatting."
They descended slowly. Each step groaned beneath their weight, echoing louder than it should have. As the light from the room above vanished, the walls seemed to close in tight, suffocating, alive.
At the base of the stairs was a stone chamber, damp and cold. Strange symbols lined the walls some etched, others carved in with fingernails. Noah's breath fogged as he stepped forward.
"This was a ritual room," Matthew muttered. "Old magic. Blood-binding. Caleb used this place to anchor his soul to the physical world."
Noah's skin crawled. "So… what now? You exorcise me?"
Matthew turned to him. "Not yet. If we force the spirit out before weakening it, Caleb could take full control and burn your soul in the process."
"Comforting."
Matthew walked to a circle drawn on the floor in dried blood and black ash. It pulsed faintly beneath the lantern light, like a heart just beneath the skin of the earth.
"I can suppress him temporarily," Matthew said. "It'll buy us time. But I need something from you."
Noah narrowed his eyes. "What?"
"A link. A willingness. You have to allow me to tie your soul to mine just enough to shield you from him."
"Like… a soul pact?"
Matthew nodded once. "It's temporary. But it's intimate. If you break it if you lie or resist it could backfire."
Noah hesitated. "You want me to trust you, when five minutes ago you were planning to destroy this body?"
"I don't want to trust you either," Matthew said quietly. "But you're not him. Not yet. And I can't watch him destroy another life through the face I once loved."
That last part struck harder than Noah expected.
He stepped forward. "What do I have to do?"
Matthew knelt in the center of the circle and held out a small silver dagger. "A drop of your blood. And your name your true one."
Noah took the blade, pricked his palm, and let a few drops fall into the center of the circle.
"Noah Clarke," he said, voice shaking.
The moment the blood touched the ash, the floor shivered. The symbols on the walls began to glow faintly red.
Matthew closed his eyes and began to chant.
The room darkened not from the light dimming, but as if the shadows themselves thickened. A low hum filled the air. The kind of sound that made bones ache.
Noah felt it first in his chest a sharp pull, like a cord being tugged. Then a weight settled on his back. Something was watching. No… something was crawling beneath his skin.
He screamed.
A flash of Caleb's memories hit him all at once a boy in a coffin, eyes open. A woman chanting. A kiss that ended in blood. Chains. Fire. Matthew's name, whispered like a prayer and a curse.
Then silence took place .
When Noah opened his eyes, he was on the floor, gasping. Matthew was beside him, pale and trembling, but alive.
"It's done," he whispered. "The bond is formed."
Noah wiped the blood from his mouth. "What now?"
Matthew looked at him, truly looked at him, for the first time. Not with hatred. Not with suspicion.
With fear.
"Now we pray Caleb doesn't notice."
Later, back in the room upstairs, Noah lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling.
Matthew sat near the window, his coat draped over the back of a chair. The silence between them was heavy, but less hostile.
"Why did you love him?" Noah asked quietly.
Matthew didn't look up. "Because he made me feel needed. Wanted. He saw the darkness in me and kissed it instead of running."
Noah turned his head. "And now?"
"Now I wonder if he ever saw me at all."
A long pause.
Noah exhaled. "You're seeing me now."
Matthew finally met his eyes. And something passed between them not warmth, not trust but recognition. A shared understanding.
Two haunted men. One cursed body.
Bound, for now.