**New York, 1905**
The room was thick with the scent of cigars and burning oil lamps, their dim glow casting long shadows across the oak-paneled walls. Outside, the streets of old New York stretched endlessly, bustling with horse-drawn carriages and the hurried footsteps of workers. Automobiles were a rarity—only the wealthiest men owned them, symbols of power and status. Most of the city still relied on streetcars and carriages, while towering buildings scraped the sky, a testament to human ambition.
Inside the grand hall, the men sat in a tense circle, discussing the only name that mattered that evening—Dr. Elias Montgomery.
“Dr. Montgomery is an important man,” one of them said, breaking the silence. “His research... it was revolutionary. A medicine capable of curing all sickness, even death itself.”
A man in a dark suit adjusted his cuffs before speaking. “Dr. Montgomery wasn’t just any scientist. His work revolutionized modern medicine. He proved the existence of regenerative cells, led the team that created the first successful skin graft, and was on the brink of something even greater. A cure—not just for diseases, but for death itself.”
Another man leaned forward, nodding. “It was madness to some, but to others... it was the key to immortality.”
A third voice interjected, his tone skeptical. “And now he’s missing—He was following the theories of Dr. Newton Fill—a man obsessed with the impossible. And where did it lead him?” His voice dropped into a low whisper.
“Dead.”
Silence followed.
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“Are we truly willing to risk more men for a search that may already be hopeless?”
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Across the table, one man sat silently, his fingers tapping against the polished wood. His name was Mr. Aldrich, a longtime rival of Dr. Montgomery. He had spent years competing against him, always a step behind, always overshadowed. Now, with Montgomery missing, the world’s attention was finally shifting away from him. And he wanted it to stay that way.
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But others weren’t willing to let Montgomery be forgotten.
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“We must send a search party,” one of the men declared. “Dr. Montgomery has a wife and two children. His family deserves answers.”
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The mention of his family brought a solemn hush over the room. Eleanor Montgomery, his devoted wife, had stood by him through every trial, through every failed experiment and breakthrough discovery. Their children, Samuel and Lillian, adored their father, though they rarely saw him—his work consumed him. But despite his obsession with science, he was a good man.
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The room grew restless. Finally, a decision had to be made.
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A vote was cast.
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One by one, the men raised their hands. When the final count was tallied, the results were clear. The search party would go.
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Mr. Aldrich clenched his jaw. Montgomery had won again—even in his absence.
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THE SEA OF SORROWS
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“How long has it been?” Abaddon’s voice slithered through the air like a serpent, his laughter a haunting symphony against the bloodstained waves. “Humans... such fragile creatures, yet so eager to destroy their own.”
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The fog began to lift, unveiling a horrific sight—an ocean dyed crimson, the wreckage of forgotten ships strewn across the surface like broken corpses. The water groaned with the voices of the damned.
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"Save me!"
"My son! Please, someone find my son!"
"Free us!"
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The pleas of the lost echoed in Sophia’s ears. Torn limbs floated aimlessly, blackened by time and rot. The stench of decay coiled around her, yet she felt nothing—no revulsion, no fear. Only emptiness.
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Abaddon stepped forward, his many eyes gleaming. “Do you see it now? The truth of your kind?” He gestured toward the wreckage. “Greed. War. The endless hunger for power. It’s all the same. What did they do with their lives, Sophia? The rich feast while children starve in the gutters of New York. Men butcher each other in wars for borders drawn in blood. Lynch mobs hang the innocent, while factory owners drown the poor in sweat and soot. Humanity builds its own grave, decade after decade, century after century.”
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Sophia turned, her breath catching as a jagged piece of metal impaled her side. She gasped—but there was no pain. Slowly, she pulled it free, watching in horror as her flesh knitted itself back together, smooth and unbroken.
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Her hands trembled. “I’m... I’m not human anymore.” She tried to cry, but no tears came.
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Abaddon grinned. “Ah... do you feel it? The fire in your veins, the hunger gnawing at the core of your being? That, my dear, is the sound of your soul breaking... the last, fragile breath of who you once were.
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Rejoice! For you are no longer shackled by mortality. The weakness of flesh, the curse of time—they are nothing to you now. You are eternal. You are powerful.
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"Look at yourself—do not tremble, do not cower. What you see is your true form, unchained, magnificent. Every whisper of fear, every desperate prayer you ever uttered... meaningless. You were never meant to be saved. You were meant to become.
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"And now, you are one with me. No more pain, no more death—only hunger for power. The world will never accept you, nor should you accept it. You are beyond them now. They are
nothing but prey.
“So rise, my child, and embrace the darkness. It has always been waiting for you.”
Sophia’s scream cut through the heavy air. “I hate you!”
She staggered back, fists clenched, her eyes burning with something she refused to let go of.
"You may have taken my humanity from me," she said, voice steady, "but you will never take away my understanding of what makes us truly alive. Feelings, emotions—they are the essence of our existence. Without them, we are nothing but hollow shells, devoid of purpose.
"Pain... you think it’s weakness, but it’s what makes life matter. It’s what reminds us to cherish every moment, to hold dear those we love. And love—love is what gives us the strength to carry on, even in the darkest of times.
"You may have numbed me, but I remember. I remember warmth. I remember sorrow. And I know that without those things, we are just beasts pretending to be something greater.
"Demons, humans—we are not so different. We both crave connection, we both yearn to be understood. And it’s through our emotions that we find meaning, that we find each other.
"You have taken my heart, my capacity to love, but you will never take away my knowledge of what truly matters. Feelings are what make us human, what makes us demon. They are the spark that sets our souls ablaze.
"I may be a demon now, but I will never forget the beauty of being human. And I will never stop fighting for the right to feel, to love, to live.”
With a single swing of Abaddon’s hand, Sophia’s head fell to the ground, rolling across the blood-soaked deck. Her lifeless body stood for a moment before crumbling to its knees, yet there was no final breath, no release—only the eerie silence of a death that did not truly come.
Abaddon’s eyes gleamed with amusement as he watched. “Ah, what a fool ... even in death, you are still bound to me.”
Her head slowly healed up.
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As the Sea of Sorrows faded behind them, its cursed whispers drowned by beneath the crashing waves, the monstrous vessel carrying them surged forward, merging into the vast expanse of the Atlantic Ocean. The air was different here, fresher—untainted by the stench of decay. But the peace was short-lived.
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In the distance, the rhythmic hum of engines broke through the stillness. Ships loomed on the horizon, their flags whipping in the wind. The rescue team had arrived.
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Abaddon smirked, watching the approaching vessels. “Foolish mortals,” he mused, stepping forward as the ship’s cursed hull groaned beneath him. “They come searching for the lost, never realizing that some things should remain unfound.”
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