Chapter 28: On the seventh night
If Mikel were to describe the feeling of feeding the Blood Chain, it wasn't just satisfaction—it was relief.
A terrible, all-consuming relief.
As the Chain fed on the ghost, the crushing weight in his chest lifted, but only for a moment. The aftermath hit harder—disbelief, shock, and a numbing horror at what he'd done... and worse, how he was already trying to justify it.
Telling himself the ghost was already dead. He, on the other hand, still had his. His decision was necessary.
But it felt like a punch to the gut all the same.
Because of that, sleep never came. Even after he nearly collapsed back at the cafe, his eyes stayed open, haunted not only by what he had done but also by the terrifying reminder of just how thin the line was between control and submission.
A brutal reminder that neither the Blood Chain nor Doom was merciful. And if he ever gave them the slightest opening... they would take everything.
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The visit to the public bath wasn't a daily necessity for him—especially with how much the ongoing renovations drained his energy. Worse, the Blood Chain had been quietly feeding on him, stealing little sips of his strength and doubling his fatigue.