Arranged To The Beast Alpha
Something dark and unfamiliar

SOMETHING DARK AND UNFAMILIAR

LEAH

I carefully sat down on the floor, placed the bag close to me, and took out my sketch pad. I opened the bag and a gasp escaped out of my lips. The paintbrush felt heavier than it should have like it was holding a secret.

My hands shook as I stared at the blank page, the thick smell of paint filling my nose as I glanced between the wall painting and my sketch pad Damien's voice echoed in my mind,*I want the recreation as payment.*

I had various types of paintbrushes, palette knives, canvas pencils, charcoal, spray bottles, and everything I needed in one bag.

I could create paintings for a lifetime with this much supply of instruments. My child will come and buy it.

Now I had to paint and recreate the replaced woman; she seemed like someone who liked it.

But did it matter? I just wanted to give it my best and see how it turns out. I took a breath and made the first few strokes, trying to match the patterns, but the tips of my fingers began to tingle, then ache, and soon enough, a tremor overtook my entire hand.

"Oh no..." I whispered, feeling the surge roll through my body like a thunderstorm trapped under my skin. Panic shot through me, seizing my breath as my hand, now moving on its own, began sketching furiously. The brush dragged itself across the paper as though it had a mind of its own like some invisible force had latched onto me, using me.

Fear crept in, prickling the back of my neck. I should've known better. I should've known that this wasn't worth the transaction with Damien, why did I give in? Why did I listen?

I didn't know what I was drawing, but the image forming on the page filled me with dread. The strokes were wild and chaotic, and as my hand strained, the pain set in a searing burn that spread from my fingers to my wrist, as if my veins were twisting, ready to burst.

"Ahhh!" A scream tore from my throat, and I clutched my arm, desperate to make it stop. The door of the Gallery swung open, and Damien and Andy rushed in, their faces blurring as I tried to make sense of what was happening. "What's going on?" Andy asked, her eyes darting from me to the sketch pad. But before she could do anything, Damien stepped forward, his intense gaze locking onto mine.

"Leah, stop," he said, voice low and steady, though I could see the hint of concern in his eyes. He crouched down, reaching for my face, forcing me to look at him

"It's okay. You're safe."

"N-No..." I whispered.

I wanted to believe him, but the pain was relentless, tearing through me like I was being ripped from the inside out. Tears streamed down my face as I struggled to breathe. "Leah, breathe, calm down, you can do this. Think positive, think positive." Andy said ever so calmly. I wanted to listen, to calm down but to no avail.

"I can't! I just can't!" I screamed, "Help me! Please!"

Andy came by my side trying to make my hand stop writing, but it felt like she couldn't lift it."Take deep breaths, take deep breaths. I can hear Andy's voice now, I just need to be able to hold on to it. "Look at me!" Damien said like a warning, but I couldn't, I was in control of my body, so I failed to heed.

And then, suddenly, Damien's lips crashed against mine, a shock so sudden it pulled me out of the agony, grounding me in that unexpected moment. For a split second, everything stilled, the pain dissolving like mist.

I pulled away, gasping, my hands trembling as I glanced down at the sketch pad, heart pounding. The page was a mess of frenzied lines and smudges, but within the chaos was a clear image: a hand holding a pendant, reaching out, offering it to someone unseen. The pendant looked eerily familiar... the same one I'd seen in Damien's room. Just a hand, with no face or body attached, but its meaning felt heavy, like it was meant for me to understand.

I looked up, my tear-streaked face meeting Damien's. His expression was blank, but confusion flickered in his eyes. He didn't know what to make of it, either.

Without a word, he slipped an arm around me, lifting me as if I weighed nothing, and carried me out of the room. I couldn't even bring myself to protest, my mind still whirling with what had just happened. I buried my face against his shoulder, feeling the strong, steady beat of his heart beneath me, grounding me even as everything else felt like it was falling apart.

He carried me back to the bedroom and laid me on the bed, his eyes lingering on me for a moment longer than I expected. Then, without a word, he turned and walked out, the lock clicking softly behind him.

I lay there, feeling the weight of my own body pressing into the mattress, too weak to even think about getting up. I glanced toward the door, which locked from the outside, trapping me in there.

I stared at my hand, and my veins were pulsing. This was getting scarier for me.

Why would I lose control and draw a creepy, strange image that leaves me in stunned silence, searching for answers?

I drew Damien's pendant, yet I didn't know why; there was no collective memory to link this event to other than the day I first saw it.

Goddess, what is going on?

I relaxed on my bed, my hands supporting and protecting each other from colliding.

My hands felt cold, trembling slightly, and when I looked down, I saw the thin, blue lines of my veins pulsing beneath my skin. Each beat was slow, heavy, like a warning.

Something dark and unfamiliar was stirring inside me, something I couldn't control. It was terrifying, this sensation of slipping out of my grasp.