Jeremias’s fortune was a silent monster, fed by centuries of accumulation. To humans, he was an enigma in a tailored suit. To me, he was the door to a world I wasn't supposed to touch. I stole his black card—a cold, plastic weight in my hand. I bought that $942 silk dress. It didn't just feel like fabric; it felt like a transformation. A mistake woven in old money.
We ascended beyond the logic of the living. The second floor was a nightmare of ageless reptilian things, their beauty as sharp as their claws. But the third floor... it was a sanctuary of Emerald White Marble. So white it burned my eyes. Handprints of "fake" blood stained the walls—a warning whispered in the language of predators. I was the only thing there that still had a beating heart.
Nature broke that night. In the luxury of our shared silence, I became pregnant. The Law of Sacrifice is a cruel math: If a human stains the line, the parents must fall by the children's hand. His sisters knew. They watched us from the corners of the mansion, their greed sharper than any ritual knife, waiting for their parents to bleed so they could reign.
The elixir tasted like copper and old earth. "Become him," his mother whispered. I entered the hall as a ghost of Jeremias. Under the skin, we were two souls fighting for space in one vessel. When our bodies fused, we were no longer man and woman. We were a singularity of ancient blood magic. Even the Patriarch laughed, thinking it was just a twisted game of possession.
The expulsion was not a birth, but a tearing of reality. Jeremias prayed to a God his race had long forgotten, and in the violence of the separation, my body gave up. I emerged as a monster and died before I could breathe. Now, the emerald mansion is rotting brown. The marble is decomposing. The sisters scream at the walls, and I... I am the ghost that finally ended the era of White Marble.