THE HEIRESS VOW - Chapter 187

Chapter 187: Shattered Truths
The void swallowed them whole, a suffocating mass of darkness swirling, tugging, separating. Ava’s screams echoed into the abyss, but her voice was lost, drowned by the haunting silence that surrounded her. The air, thick and oppressive, seemed to pulse with life, taunting her with its cold, relentless grip.

She was alone.

Again.

Her body floated, weightless and disconnected, as the shadows circled, pulling her deeper into their embrace. This void, this nothingness—it was more familiar than she cared to admit. It was the very essence of the emptiness she had fought her entire life to escape. And now, it had found her once more.

“You thought you could run from me?” a voice whispered, soft and sinister. Ava’s heart stilled. That voice. She knew it.

But it wasn’t a stranger. It wasn’t the future Ava. It was her own. Her voice, broken and twisted, dripping with the bitterness of failure.

“You failed. Again.”

The words slithered around her, binding her, dragging her back into the darkest corners of her mind. Ava struggled, her limbs thrashing against the unseen chains, but the more she fought, the tighter they gripped.

“You couldn’t save her, could you?”

No.

The image flashed before her, vivid and cruel—a young girl, her face pale, eyes wide with terror, blood spilling from her lips as she reached out, pleading for help that never came. Ava had tried. She had screamed, fought, bled for that girl, but in the end, it hadn’t mattered.

She had failed.

Ava’s chest tightened, and she gasped for air that wouldn’t come. Her lungs burned, her vision blurred, and the weight of her guilt crashed over her like a tidal wave. It crushed her, suffocated her, dragging her down into the abyss.

“You let her die,” the voice hissed again, relentless, unforgiving. “And now… now you will suffer the same fate.”

A child’s scream pierced the darkness, cutting through Ava’s soul like a jagged blade. It was a scream she could never forget. It haunted her dreams, her every waking moment—a constant reminder of the life she had failed to protect.

“No!” Ava cried, her voice hoarse, her throat raw from the effort. She clawed at the void, desperate to escape the relentless nightmare, but the darkness only tightened its hold. The scream grew louder, more desperate, and the shadows twisted, forming into the shape of a small figure.

The child.

Her child.

The girl stood before Ava, her once-bright eyes now hollow and empty, filled with a sorrow that Ava could never mend. The child’s lips parted, and from them came a soft, accusing whisper. “You left me.”

Ava’s breath caught, her heart shattering into a million pieces as the words pierced her soul. “No… no, I didn’t—”

“You did,” the girl insisted, stepping closer. Her small, fragile hand reached out, grasping Ava’s wrist with an iron grip. “You left me. You let me die.”

Ava tried to pull away, but the child’s fingers tightened, her cold touch sending icy shivers down Ava’s spine. “I didn’t mean to. I tried—I tried to save you.”

“But you failed,” the girl whispered, her voice laced with a quiet, damning finality. “Just like you failed him. Just like you failed everyone.”

Ava’s knees buckled, and she collapsed, her hands trembling as she reached out, desperate to hold the child, to somehow make it right. But the child stepped back, her face hardening with disgust. “You are weak. You’ve always been weak.”

The words were venom, seeping into Ava’s mind, poisoning every corner of her being. She had been weak, hadn’t she? Weak, broken, incapable of saving the people who mattered most. Her failures were carved into her very bones, each one a painful reminder of what she had lost, what she could never get back.

The void twisted again, shifting, distorting, until the child was gone, replaced by another figure. His figure.

The man.

But this time, his face was different—colder, distant, filled with disappointment. He looked at her as though she were a stranger, as though he had never known her at all. His lips curled into a cruel sneer, and his voice, once warm and steady, was now sharp and cutting.

“You couldn’t save me either, Ava.”

The world trembled beneath her, his words like knives, cutting through the last shreds of her defenses. “No… don’t say that.”

“You were never enough,” he continued, stepping closer. “You were never strong enough, never smart enough, never brave enough.”

Ava shook her head, her tears falling freely now, her entire body trembling with the weight of her guilt. “I tried. I tried to be enough.”

“But you weren’t,” he whispered, his hand reaching out to caress her cheek, though the touch felt more like a blow. “And now it’s too late.”

The void shifted once more, the darkness swirling around them, thickening into tangible shapes—monsters, grotesque and twisted, each one a reflection of Ava’s deepest fears. They circled her, closing in, their laughter echoing in her ears, a cruel chorus of mockery.

“You are nothing,” they hissed. “Nothing but a failure.”

Ava’s breath hitched, and she fell to her knees, her body shaking as the monsters closed in. They were right. She had failed. She had always failed. There was no escape from it, no redemption, no second chance. This was her fate.

“You don’t have to fight them.”

The voice—his voice—cut through the darkness like a knife, sharp and clear. Ava’s head snapped up, her eyes wide as she saw him standing there, the man she thought she had lost forever. His figure was strong, unyielding, a beacon of light in the endless void.

“You don’t have to do this alone, Ava,” he said, his hand outstretched, waiting for her to take it. His eyes—those same eyes that had always seen her for who she truly was—were filled with an unwavering determination.

“I—” Ava’s voice cracked, the words caught in her throat. She wanted to believe him. She wanted to take his hand, to trust him, to let him save her. But the doubt, the fear, it was still there, gnawing at her insides, whispering its cruel lies.

You’ll fail again. You’ll lose him, just like you lost everyone else.

“Trust me,” he whispered, his voice soft but firm, a quiet plea beneath the storm. “Please, Ava. Trust me.”

The monsters snarled, circling closer, their eyes gleaming with anticipation. They could smell her fear, her hesitation. They were waiting for her to fall, waiting for her to give in, to let the darkness swallow her whole.

But the man—he didn’t waver. He didn’t flinch. His hand remained steady, his gaze never leaving hers. “You are not alone, Ava. Not anymore.”

The words echoed through the void, and for the first time, Ava felt something shift inside her. It was small, almost imperceptible, but it was there—hope.

Hope that maybe, just maybe, she wasn’t doomed to repeat her past. That maybe, she could find the strength to fight, to stand, to believe in something more.

Slowly, painfully, Ava reached out, her fingers trembling as they brushed against his. The moment their hands connected, the void shuddered, the darkness recoiling as if burned by the light of their touch.

The monsters screamed, their twisted forms unraveling, disintegrating into the air, their cries of rage and despair fading into nothingness. The ground beneath Ava’s feet solidified, the swirling void around them cracking, breaking apart.

“Ava,” he whispered, pulling her to her feet, his hand warm and strong against hers. “You’re not alone. Not anymore.”

For the first time in what felt like forever, Ava believed him.

But the darkness was not finished.

The void shifted once more, and the man’s grip on Ava’s hand tightened as the ground beneath them began to crumble. The world was collapsing around them, the nightmare threatening to pull them both back into its cold, suffocating embrace.

“We have to move,” he said, his voice urgent but calm. “Stay with me, Ava. Don’t let go.”

But even as he spoke, the shadows rose, thicker and darker than before, swirling around them like a living storm. Ava’s heart raced, her breath coming in short, panicked gasps as she clung to his hand, her fingers digging into his as if he were her lifeline.

The shadows reached for them, their tendrils curling around Ava’s legs, pulling her back, dragging her into the abyss. No. Not again.

“Ava!” His voice was sharp, cutting through the rising chaos, and she felt his hand tighten around hers, pulling her forward, pulling her out of the darkness.

But the shadows were relentless.

They wrapped around her, their icy fingers sinking deep into her skin, tearing at her, dragging her down. And for a brief, terrifying moment, Ava felt her grip on his hand slip.

“No!” she cried, her voice breaking as the darkness closed in, threatening to pull them apart.

But he wouldn’t let go.

“You are stronger than this,” he whispered, his voice a steady anchor in the storm. “You are stronger than them.”

Ava’s breath hitched, her chest tightening as she fought against the pull of the shadows. She was strong. She could be strong.