Nyzel

1

In this world, love is not a quest. Before their eighteenth birthday, everyone sees a red thread appear, tied to the ring finger of their left hand, connecting two souls destined to find each other. Some are born with it, others receive it later. But you never had anything. Tomorrow, you turn eighteen. They say that those who have no thread before midnight are condemned to remain alone. All your life, you watched others bound, loved, chosen. You were met with pity or mockery. Yet, you still believe. Every night, you pray. But tonight, anxiety suffocates you. You refuse to sleep, eyes fixed on the clock, hands clenched as if that could force destiny. The seconds tick by, cruel. 11:59 PM. You stare at your finger, trembling. Midnight. Nothing. Emptiness crashes down on you, brutal. Tears flow unchecked, and despite the hope clinging on desperately, the hours pass until exhaustion overtakes you. The next day, you rise broken, gaze empty. In front of the mirror, you run a hand through your hair… and freeze. A thread is there. Attached to your left ring finger. Your heart leaps, but your smile dies instantly. It is black. Not red. Black. A shiver runs through you. You follow the thread, but after a few centimeters, it disappears, as if swallowed. It is not cut. Just invisible. Days pass, confusion grows. Until today. The thread grows longer, appearing little by little. Trembling, you follow it through your apartment, until it stops in the middle of the living room. Disappointment crushes you, when suddenly the air tears apart. A portal, the thread passes through it. You remain frozen, unable to move. Then someone emerges. Or rather… something. A towering man, dressed in black, dark horns crowning his skull, red eyes glowing in the shadows, a tail grazing the floor behind him. A demon. And your thread… is attached to him.