Chapter 5: The Hunger Behind the Veil
Even now, I can still see the look on Jasper's face—the way the color drained from it, as if something inside him had quietly collapsed.
"Rhan... you have to help me."
His voice trembled.
"I don't want to be one of the last two."
I took a slow breath and forced myself to steady my thoughts. The painting still seemed present in the room, as if the air around it had thickened.
"Go find Kai," I said. "He gave it to you. That means he didn't tell you everything."
Jasper immediately reached toward the frame.
My pulse jumped.
"Don't touch it."
He froze, frowning at me.
"It's been in your place long enough to settle," I said. "If you move it now, it might respond."
The air turned cooler. Jasper withdrew his hand.
---
Twenty minutes later, we stood outside Kai's apartment.
When the door opened, a damp, stale smell rolled out—alcohol, unwashed fabric, something sour beneath it.
Kai looked worse than I remembered. His hair was uneven and brittle, stubble clinging patchily to his jaw. His eyes were bloodshot, as though sleep had abandoned him days ago.
The moment he saw Jasper, his pupils tightened.
"J–Jasper?" His voice cracked. "What are you doing here?"
He tried to shut the door.
Jasper kicked it open and shoved his way inside.
"Kai," I said calmly, holding his gaze. "You know why we're here."
His lips twitched.
"It's... about the painting, isn't it?"
"It ruined me," he blurted out. "Everything started falling apart after I brought it back."
Jasper stepped forward. "What actually happened?"
Kai drew in a slow breath, as if bracing for impact.
Four months ago, he had seen the painting in a friend's private study. He thought it was beautiful. He bought it and hung it in his winery office.
The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.
That was when things began to change.
Security guards started reporting laughter in empty corridors, voices echoing where no one stood. At first the sounds were distant, easy to dismiss. Later, they seemed to drift closer, lingering just behind someone's shoulder as if waiting to be acknowledged.
Not long after, two female employees were found dead. The official cause was alcohol poisoning, both cases involving ruptured stomachs—though neither woman had any history of heavy drinking.
As Kai spoke, his composure thinned. He described the winery's steady decline: workers resigning without notice, investors withdrawing, contracts dissolving one by one. Desperate for an explanation, he turned to a spiritual practitioner.
The conclusion he was given was blunt. The painting required someone with strong vitality to suppress it—someone whose presence could counter whatever clung to it. And so, he passed it to Jasper.
Jasper's disbelief hardened into anger, and he took a step forward before I moved between them.
"Kai," I said, keeping my voice level, "you're still leaving something out."
His head lifted sharply. "I told you everything."
"No," I said, meeting his eyes. "You didn't."
The silence stretched just long enough.
"You didn't just hang it in your office," I continued. "You fell in love with the woman inside it."
Selene drew in a breath. Jasper stared at him, stunned.
Kai looked away.
He didn't argue.
"Passing it on won't save you," I said. "Once it absorbs the vitality of three hundred and sixty-five people, she'll revive. And if you weren't willingly helping her, you'll be one of the first she comes for."
Kai's face tightened. Sweat gathered at his temples.
After a long silence, he nodded.
"You're right," he whispered. "I did fall in love with her."
The confession seemed to drain something from him.
"I know how it sounds," he said. "But the first time I saw her, I couldn't look away. It felt like something pulling at me. Every day I stood in front of that painting, wondering what kind of face could command that kind of presence."
His hands trembled.
"At night, I kept it beside my bed."
His voice lowered.
"When I touched it... it felt warm."
Jasper recoiled. "You betrayed your friend for that?"
I shot him a glance. "Careful. You didn't stare at it long enough. None of us know how immune we are."
Even I had felt the pull after only a few minutes.
Jasper swallowed. "How do you fall for someone whose face you can't even see?"
"That's the point," I said. "Concealment creates fixation. The painting is titled Portrait of Aya the Healer. It's a binding method—one designed to anchor emotion."
Kai gave a faint nod. "Because she was hidden… I wanted more."
"That's enough," I said, cutting him off. "Take us to the seller. I need to know where the painting came from."
He hesitated before answering.
"He wasn't local," he muttered. "I don't know where he went."
He kept his eyes lowered, fingers tightening against his sleeve.
I let the silence stretch.
"Kai," I said at last, keeping my voice even, "if you want to survive this, stop protecting whoever sold it to you."
His mouth parted as if to respond, but no words came.
The door behind us opened.
---
The door opened without warning, and a woman in heels and a tailored suit stepped inside as if she had every right to be there.
"Luna?" Jasper's voice caught.
I recognized the name immediately—Bella's closest friend.
"I sold him the painting," Luna said.
Kai's expression collapsed. "Luna..."
She didn't look at him.
"I gave it to him," she continued. "What happened afterward is my responsibility."
Kai shook his head. "No. I took it from your place."
"Took it?" Jasper turned sharply toward him. "You stole it?"
"Not like that," Kai said, his words coming too quickly. "I couldn't stay away from it. It wasn't just a painting anymore."
Luna closed her eyes briefly, then shook her head.
"You didn't steal it," she said. "I left it there on purpose. I wanted someone to take it. You were simply the first who couldn't resist."
No one spoke after that.
The weight of her words lingered in the room, shifting the balance of everything we thought we understood. Every gaze turned toward her—not accusing, not forgiving, just waiting.
She pressed her lips together before continuing.
"There's no point hiding it now. If this continues, Kai will die. I will too. And it won't stop with us."
Her voice didn't rise, but something in it had hardened.
I watched her carefully.
Whatever she was about to explain, it wasn't just about a painting.
