FRAGMENTED IDENTITY

Chapter Five
Flickers in the Dark

Elira didn’t sleep.

The bed was warm, the linens luxuriously soft, and the hush of the room should’ve wrapped her in peace. But none of it reached her. Her body hummed with unease, nerves wound so tight they might snap. The silence wasn’t soothing—it was oppressive, too perfect. Like it had been manufactured to hide something lurking beneath it.

Every distant mechanical whir, every faint pop of settling glass, sent her heart jumping. Her thoughts looped endlessly, memories and questions tangling like thorns. Sleep hovered at the edges, brushing lightly against her mind, but never truly settling in.
Then, sometime past three in the morning, something shifted.

It wasn’t a sound. Not really. More like the absence of one. A subtle disruption in the air, like a ripple moving through still water. Her body reacted before her brain did—sitting upright in bed, pulse thudding in her ears.
Bare feet hit the floor. Cool, quiet. She crept to the door, fingers trembling slightly as they wrapped around the handle. Slowly, she cracked it open. The hallway stretched before her, dim and still. Only the faintest nightlight glowed down the corridor. But then—there it was.

A muffled sound. A gasp. A broken, breathless noise that sent a chill down her spine.

A man’s voice. Strained. Caught somewhere between a sob and a scream.

Kael.

She froze, heart leaping into her throat. Her hand hovered just above her chest like she could calm it with a touch. For a brief moment, she debated turning back. Retreating to safety. But something in that sound—raw and unguarded—dragged her forward. She padded softly down the hallway until she reached his door. It was slightly ajar, the faintest strip of shadowy light escaping into the hall.

She pushed it open.

Kael’s room was stark. Nothing like hers. No art, no comfort. Just a single bed, white sheets twisted and half-kicked off. Shadows loomed in every corner like they were hiding secrets. On the bed, Kael writhed—his muscles tensed, his breath catching in ragged bursts.

His face, usually so guarded, was twisted in pain. Sweat clung to his skin, gleaming at his temple. His hands clutched at the sheets like they were the only thing tethering him to the world.

And then—

“E… Elira…”

He whispered her name. Not someone’s name. Not a coincidence.

Her name.

She stepped into the room before she even realized it, drawn like a moth to something she should’ve avoided. The air felt thick, charged with something electric and broken. She hesitated beside the bed, eyes locked on him.

“Kael…” she said softly, barely above a breath.

He flinched, like her voice was a gunshot. His eyes flew open, wild and unfocused. A strangled cry tore from his throat as he jolted upright, breathing hard, his whole body trembling with the aftershock. He didn’t see her. Not at first. But then he did. His gaze locked on hers, and something in him cracked—not loudly. Just a hairline fracture that revealed the man beneath.

Not the mask. Not the killer. Not the idol.

Just Kael.

For the first time since she met him, he looked… small. Not broken. Not weak. Just terribly, achingly human.

“What are you doing here?” he rasped, voice rough, wrecked by sleep and fear.

“You were… I heard you,” she said, her voice gentle. “You said my name.”