Chapter 026: A fragment of her energy.

"Right, you've got to be kidding me," Oliver muttered under his breath, watching Paul's lifeless body rise from the earth. It bore the scars of the car's impact, the wounds were mending mending rapidly before his very eyes, the flesh knitting itself back together.

As the body stood upright, bathed in the harsh glare of Oliver's headlights, a primal fear clenched his gut. He slammed his foot on the clutch, yanked the wheel left, desperate to escape. But Paul's lifeless was relentless. With inhuman speed, it darted in front of the car, its hulking form an immovable barrier.

Oliver felt a cold sweat prickle his skin. This wasn't just some animal. Raw energy crackled around the body, its dead eyes boring into him with an unsettling emptiness. It held the car in place with an unnatural strength, as if defying the very laws of physics.

With a yelp, Oliver slammed the car into reverse, throwing it back a few distance, mindful of the cliff. He lurched forward again, only to be met with the same chilling sight – Paul's lifeless body, unwavering, blocking his path. This time, it wasn't waiting for pleasantries. It moved with an inhuman grace, reaching the driver's door in a blink and ripping it clean off its hinges.

Oliver felt himself yanked from the car like a ragdoll. Paul's bony fingers, cold and impossibly strong, wrapped around his throat, squeezing the air from his lungs. He gasped for breath, his vision starting to blur. Desperately, he clawed at the Paul's hand, his fingers fumbling for his sidearm.

He grabbed his gun tucked behind him.

With a bang that echoed through the deserted night, a shot rang out. The bullet slammed into the Paul's chest, jolting it back and momentarily releasing its hold. Oliver stumbled to the ground, scrabbling back towards the car. He fumbled with the ignition, but the gaping hole where the door once was offered Paul's easy access.

A guttural growl tore through the night as the he lunged. Oliver, as if anticipating the move, opened fire again. He emptied his gun into the Paul's lifeless hulking form, causing him to flinch with each bullet but refused to fall. The gun clicked empty in Oliver's hand, useless.

Sweat slicked his brow as despair threatened to consume him. He fumbled for his backup pistols, a last desperate act. He aimed them at Paul, firing one shot at a time, counting down his remaining bullets. Each shot propelled him further into a desperate gamble – Paul's cryptic advice about the bond, the energy it held.

He gritted his teeth, Ignoring the stinging pain in his left arm where a long bloody gash had appeared from Paul's grasp, he focused. He couldn't afford distractions. He concentrated on the bond.

With a surge of renewed determination, Oliver poured his focus into the bond, feeling its energy course through him like a jolt of electricity. His aim became unnaturally precise, each bullet finding its mark on Paul's chest and head.

Paul, once relentless, faltered. Its movements slowed, its once-fierce eyes dimmed. Oliver watched cautiously, the headlights casting long shadows that danced across Paul's unmoving form.

Taking a deep breath, Oliver climbed back into the car. His hand trembled as he turned the key in the ignition. The engine roared to life, and he eased his foot onto the clutch. But just as he was about to pull away, a wave of recognition washed over him. A feeling…familiar, yet unsettling. It hung in the air, thick and heavy.

Paul remained motionless, its empty eyes staring blankly ahead. But something had changed. The air crackled with a strange energy, and Oliver knew, with a chilling certainty, that this wasn't over.

A frown abruptly creased his brow as he wrestled with the unfamiliar pang of hunger gnawing at his gut. Ignoring it for now, he slammed the car into gear and peeled out, the screech of the tires echoing in the night.

His first stop was Ambers street. But as he drove, he cast a worried glance at Edward slumped in the passenger seat. The young boy seemed to be losing blood at an alarming rate, staining the upholstery a worrying crimson. Deciding not to waste another minute, Oliver pulled over a few blocks from the Sheriff's house.

He hopped out, the hunger pangs momentarily forgotten as adrenaline surged through him. Scooping Edward up in a fireman's carry, he navigated the dark street, stepping over ominous puddles with a grimace. Reaching the back gate, Oliver fumbled in Edward's pocket, his fingers slick with sweat, and retrieved a key. With a click, the gate swung open.

To his surprise, Sheriff Edgar was already there, pacing back and forth like a caged lion. The worry etched on his face deepened as he took in Edward's pallid complexion. "What in tarnation happened?" he boomed, his voice tight with concern. "Get him inside, quick! I'll call Doc Miller."

Oliver grunted in agreement and hurried towards the house. He was a few steps away from Edward's bedroom when a terrifying sensation washed over him – an unseen hand clamped down on his throat, squeezing the air from his lungs. His vision swam, and he stumbled, nearly dropping Edward. Gasping for breath, he propelled himself forward and deposited Edward on the bed with a thud.

Panic clawed at him as he crumpled to the floor, clawing at the empty air, desperately trying to dislodge the invisible assailant. His vision began to tunnel, the room blurring at the edges. Just as he thought he was about to lose consciousness, the pressure on his throat vanished. He inhaled a ragged breath, air flooding back into his starved lungs.

Coughing violently, tears stinging his eyes, Oliver reached for a glass of water on the nightstand and downed it in a single gulp. As his ragged breaths subsided, he wiped his mouth with the back of his sleeve, his heart hammering a frantic tattoo against his ribs. Footsteps sounded from the hallway, and Oliver, despite knowing it was likely the doctor, scrambled behind the thick curtain, the fabric muffling the sound of his ragged gasps.

He peeked through the material, watching as a kind-faced doctor fussed over Edward, his brow furrowed in concentration. Relief washed over Oliver as the doctor finished his examination and exited the room, his footsteps fading into the distance.

The hunger returned, a ravenous beast clawing at his insides. But with a grimace, he shoved it down. Stepping out from his hiding place, a wave of nausea slammed into him. The room spun, his vision blurring at the edges. He squeezed his eyes shut, willing the dizziness to pass.

Then, a voice, laced with chilling familiarity, sliced through the silence. "Couldn't resist any harder, could you, Oliver?" it said, footsteps approaching.