Blood That Wasn’t Mine

The crimson color dripped from her hands as she stared at her reflection rippling across the pool’s surface. The blood wasn’t hers. She knew that much with a certainty that made her stomach twist. Still, it clung to her fingers as if it belonged there, dark and sticky, gathering beneath her nails.

Lucy dipped her hands into the pool. The water was shockingly cold, biting against her skin, and she sucked in a breath as she scrubbed her palms together. Red streamed away in thin ribbons, dissolving into pale pink clouds that vanished almost as soon as they formed. She rubbed harder, as if the water might take more than just the blood. As if it might wash away the feeling coiled tight in her chest.

When she finally pulled her hands out, they were clean, but they didn’t feel that way. She shook them dry, droplets scattering across the concrete, and slowly turned around.

The bodies were still there.

Four of them.

Two men. Two women.

For a moment, her mind refused to connect what her eyes were seeing. Then recognition hit all at once, sharp and merciless. These weren’t strangers. They weren’t intruders or monsters. They were people she knew.

Friends.

Her breath stuttered. “No…”

Her thoughts spiraled, tumbling over each other so fast she couldn’t grab hold of a single one. What have I done? The question slipped out of her in a whisper, her voice trembling as if it didn’t belong to her anymore. Her head began to swim, the world tilting at the edges as nausea rolled through her.

Lucy forced herself to look again, to ground herself in something real. She was in a backyard, wide and familiar, edged with carefully trimmed hedges. String lights hung overhead, some of them still glowing softly, swaying in the faint breeze.

Sarah’s house.

Her legs carried her forward before she consciously decided to move. She stopped beside the nearest body and slowly lowered herself to her knees. It was a girl about her age, dressed in blue shorts and a white tank top.

“Sarah?” Lucy’s voice cracked. “There’s… there’s no way I could have done this.”

Her chest tightened as tears welled in her eyes, blurring her vision until Sarah’s face became a smear of pale color and dark hair. Just hours ago, she had been alive, laughing and talking nonstop about acceptance letters, dorm rooms, and the future that finally felt real.

This was supposed to be a celebration.

Sarah had invited everyone over: Lucy, Ashley, Lucas, and John. A small get-together. Music, drinks, bad jokes. Sarah had just been accepted into the college of her dreams, and for once, everything had felt light. Normal.

Lucy squeezed her eyes shut, searching her memory for the moment everything went wrong.

There was nothing.

Just a gap. A blank space where time should have been.

A distant wail cut through the night.

Sirens.

Lucy’s eyes flew open as the sound grew louder, multiplying as it echoed through the neighborhood. Police. Ambulances. Close. Too close. Panic surged through her, hot and suffocating. Whatever had happened here, whatever she’d done or hadn’t done, she knew one thing with terrifying clarity.

She would be blamed.

Her gaze darted wildly around the yard, searching for somewhere, anywhere, to hide The hedges lining the fence caught her attention, and she took a shaky step toward them.

They rustled.

Lucy froze.

A figure emerged from the shadows, pushing branches aside with practiced ease. He was tall, broad-shouldered, his movements controlled and deliberate. Long black hair fell loose around his face, catching what little light there was.

“Lucy,” he whispered sharply. “Lucy!”

Her heart slammed against her ribs. “Who—?”

“It’s Nathan.”

She stared at him, confusion cutting through her fear. “Nathan?”

The new student. Quiet. Distant. The one who sat in the back of the classroom and never seemed to talk to anyone.

“What are you doing here?” she hissed.

“There’s no time to explain,” he said, already reaching for her hand. “You need to trust me. Now.”

Lucy hesitated, staring at his outstretched fingers. Something about the moment felt wrong, too sudden and too rehearsed. Before she could question it further, the sirens wailed again, right outside the house.

Decision made for her.

She lunged forward and grabbed his hand.

Nathan pulled her into the hedge, wrapping an arm around her and drawing her close. Leaves pressed against her cheek as he shielded her with his body.

“Shh,” he whispered, calm despite everything. “Don’t move. Don’t breathe if you can help it. Even if they’re standing right in front of us.”

Lucy nodded, clinging to him as footsteps flooded the yard.

Flashlights cut through the darkness. Voices barked orders. Three police officers entered the backyard, followed closely by paramedics. Lucy’s heart thundered so loudly she was sure they could hear it.

One officer moved along the hedges, sweeping his light low. Each step brought him closer.

Nathan tightened his grip, steady and grounding.

The officer knelt directly in front of them.

Lucy stopped breathing.

He pushed the branches aside with one hand. With the other, he raised his gun, pointing it straight at her face. Time stretched unbearably thin. Lucy caught a glimpse of the badge on his chest.

Officer Oliver.

Her pulse roared in her ears as their eyes met. She waited for the shout. The handcuffs. The end.

Instead, after a long, agonizing pause, he lowered his weapon. “All clear,” he called over his shoulder.

He stood, turned away, and walked back toward the house as if they’d never been there.

Lucy sagged against Nathan, barely holding herself together.

“Come on,” Nathan murmured. “We’re leaving.”

They slipped out through the opposite side of the hedge and sprinted across the street. A black car waited at the curb, its windows tinted so dark they reflected nothing. Nathan unlocked it and shoved the passenger door open.

“Get in.”

Lucy didn’t argue.

The engine roared to life, and within seconds they were speeding away.

“What happened back there?” Lucy demanded, her voice shaking. “One second I was with my friends. The next they’re dead—and my hands are covered in blood!”

Nathan kept his eyes on the road. “You were activated early.”

“Activated?”

“It wasn’t supposed to happen yet,” he continued quietly. “There must have been a malfunction. Or interference.”

None of it made sense. “Nathan, stop. What are you talking about?”

He exhaled slowly. “I can’t tell you everything. Not yet. But you’re not safe here anymore.”

“Where are you taking me?”

“Headquarters.”

The word settled heavily between them.

“What about my family?” Lucy asked. “My life?”

Nathan was silent for a long moment. “If you stay,” he said at last, “you’ll lose all of it anyway.”

Lucy stared out the window as the city lights blurred past, her reflection staring back at her—clean hands, haunted eyes.

“And if I go with you?”

Nathan finally glanced at her. “Then you’ll get answers. And a chance to make sure this never happens again.”

Lucy swallowed, her throat tight. “You keep talking like this was inevitable,” she said quietly. “Like you knew something was going to happen.”

Nathan didn’t answer right away. The silence stretched, heavy and deliberate, broken only by the low hum of the engine and the distant wail of sirens fading behind them.

“I’ve been watching you for months,” he said at last.

The words hit harder than any accusation could have.

Lucy turned toward him sharply. “Watching me?”

“You weren’t supposed to notice,” Nathan replied. “Most people never do.”

A chill crept up her spine. Fragments of memory surfaced unbidden—Nathan sitting in the back of the classroom, eyes lowered. Nathan always leaving before the bell rang. Nathan appearing in places she didn’t remember seeing him arrive.

“You were flagged after the aptitude screening,” he continued. “The one everyone thought was for college placement.”

Lucy shook her head. “That was years ago.”

“Yes,” Nathan said. “And you scored higher than anyone we’d seen in over a decade.”

Her pulse quickened. “So what? That doesn’t explain this.”

“No,” he agreed softly. “It explains why you were chosen.”

The city thinned as they drove, streetlights giving way to long, dark stretches of road. Lucy hugged herself, suddenly aware of how exposed she felt.

“You didn’t lose control tonight,” Nathan said. “Not completely. Something triggered you early. Someone rushed the process.”

Lucy’s stomach twisted. “You’re saying this like I didn’t have a choice.”

Nathan’s jaw tightened. “You did,” he said. “You always do. But choice doesn’t mean freedom.”

She looked down at her hands again. Clean. Steady. As if they’d never held death.

“What happens if I don’t go with you?” she asked.

Nathan didn’t hesitate this time. “You’ll be arrested. The evidence will point to you. And even if you survive prison, someone else will come for you eventually.”

“And if I do?”

“You disappear,” he said. “You learn the truth. You learn control. And you decide what kind of person you become after this.”

Lucy closed her eyes. Images flashed behind them, Sarah’s smile, the empty space in her memory, the officer who had looked straight at her and chosen not to see.

When she opened her eyes again, her voice was steady.

“Take me to headquarters.” Lucy said.

Nathan had a smile on his face. “Sure thing, Luce.”

The smile faded almost immediately, as if he’d put it on out of habit rather than comfort.

An awkward silence settled over the car.

Lucy waited for him to say something else—for reassurance, for explanation, for anything. None came. The road stretched out ahead of them, empty and dark, illuminated only by the steady sweep of the headlights. Mile after mile passed in quiet, broken only by the soft hum of the engine and the rhythmic click of the turn signal.

She shifted in her seat, folding her hands in her lap. Every question she wanted to ask felt too heavy, too dangerous to give voice to. So she stared out the window instead, watching familiar streets fade into unfamiliar stretches of highway.

Eventually, the city disappeared altogether.

Concrete gave way to forest. Trees rose on either side of the road, tall and dense, swallowing the night. The air seemed heavier here, the darkness thicker somehow, as if they were crossing a boundary she couldn’t see.

Lucy glanced at Nathan. His eyes were fixed forward, jaw set, hands steady on the wheel.

“Are we close?” she asked quietly.

“Soon,” he replied.

The car turned off the main road and onto a narrow stretch of pavement that hadn’t seen traffic in years. After several minutes, a pair of metal gates emerged from the darkness ahead, unmarked and imposing.

Nathan slowed the car as they approached.

Lucy’s chest tightened.

Nathan didn’t smile this time.

“Welcome to Fallen Inferno.”